Page 77 of Unforgettable

We should, but I just don’t want to. Not now. Not when my dick is aching in my pants, and I’ve spent the better part of the week wondering if I was ever going to see him again, let alone get the chance to touch him.

I tug his pants down, taking his briefs with them, and he dutifully steps out of them. Despite the hesitation in his words, his cock is thick and hard, the tip glistening.

Chancing it, I glance up, relieved to find nothing but desire dancing in his eyes. The apology is gone and the remorse is replaced with nothing but a thirst for more.

Holding on to his waist with both hands, I turn him around so his tight ass is right in my face. Gripping both his cheeks, I lean forward and softly bite the left one.

“Fuck,” he cries out.

I lick his reddened skin before doing it again a little harder, giving his other cheek a soft, contradictory caress. His body falls forward with a groan, his hands flattening against the mattress, keeping him steady.

Standing, I push his shirt up his back and kiss my way down the knobs of his spine. A small, almost imperceptible tremor rolls through him as I make my way down his body, my mouth and tongue tasting and sucking his skin.

Back on my knees, I guide his legs apart and lower my head. Pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the back of his legs. I move up and down the length of both his thighs before spreading him wide and giving myself a beautiful view of his perfect hole.

“Oz,” he whimpers, looking back at me, his face cherry red with both desperation and embarrassment.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” I say, my voice thick and needy, my eyes darting between him and his entrance. “But fuck, there isn’t a single part of you I don’t want.”

Leaning forward, I glide my tongue teasingly along his taint, loving the hitch in his rapid breathing. I do it again and again and then switch gears, continuously circling his rim till all I can hear is him chanting my name.

I slip my hands in between his legs, rolling his balls in my palm while mercilessly spearing his hole with the tip of my tongue.

Surprisingly, fingers wrap around my wrist and he drags my hand to his stiff and needy cock.

“Make me come,” he breathes out. “I need you to make me come.”

Together, we move up and down, loving the way his pre-come coats both our hands and the length of his shaft.

“Don’t stop,” I command, reluctantly pulling my hand away from his dick. “But don’t come.”

Another whimper echoes off the walls, and my cock strains painfully against the cotton of my briefs. Trying to ignore the throb, I glide my come-coated fingers into my mouth, slicking them up as best I can before slipping two of them inside Reeve, joining my tongue.

I find his prostate and rub at it with precision and purpose, needing nothing more than to watch him fall apart at my hands. I watch as his arm moves faster, and it’s the cue I need to know he’s about to unravel.

Messy and manic, my tongue and fingers relentlessly fuck Reeve, and I welcome all the small, telltale signs that he’s about to explode.

“Mmmmhmm,” Reeve hums, as his body shudders in euphoria. “Fuck,” he cries. “My legs… fuuuuck.”

Slowly, I turn him around, his hand still around his softening cock, come painted all over his fingers. His voice trails off as we face each other. Keeping his gaze on mine, I use one hand to unzip my own jeans and free my aching cock and the other to bring Reeve’s mess to my mouth.

Licking and sucking, I clean his finger while I fuck my own fist into a quick and hard orgasm.

Feeling overwhelming satiated, I fall back on my haunches and Reeve limply sits down on the edge of the bed, our breathing the only remaining exchange between us.

In. Out. In. Out.

The minutes pass, and I see the moment his post-orgasmic haze has worn off and the reality I was trying so hard to ignore slips back between us.

Watching him avoid my gaze is too painful, so I concentrate on the Adam’s apple that dances in his throat when he announces, “I’m going to clean up.”

There’s no invitation to join and no second glance back, he just fumbles with his pants on the floor and retreats as quickly as he can.

When I hear the door lock, a furious “fuck” leaves my mouth.

I’m sitting here covered in my own come, feeling like I completely ruined what was left of us. He didn’t exactly object, but maybe touching at all wasn’t the best call.

The door opens a few minutes later and Reeve walks out with his head down, in nothing but a towel, holding his dirty clothes.

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