Page 63 of Tameron

He was fucking beautiful like this—his mouth a perfectly roundO, his cheeks dark with a flush, his hair mussed because—oh. I’d done that. My other hand was gripping him by the back of the head, and I hadn’t even realized it.

‘Sorry,’ I signed quickly. I moved to take my hand away, but he grabbed my wrist, guiding my fingers back to where they’d been.

“Please,” he said, pulling away from me to speak. “Guide me.”

My body gave a single, almost violent shudder. A moan lodged itself in the back of my throat, and my knees felt weak as I nodded and gripped him again. The more I tightened my hand, the more his body relaxed into mine.

His lips softened and then they were on me again. I gave him a moment to adjust—to taste—then I gently began to push. He moaned, the sound vibrating against me as he sank lower. I watched him for any tension, any fear, but there was none.

He kept his eyes on my face as his jaw opened wider, and he rolled his tongue as I slipped almost all the way into his mouth.

“Fuck,” I gasped. “Like that. Tam, baby?—”

He moaned again, then swallowed. The sensation had my balls going tight, and it took me a moment not to spill right there. I would come down his throat someday, but not tonight. I wanted to take him with me right now.

Giving three short thrusts past his lips, I gently tugged him away. He went easily, releasing me with a pop, and didn’t protest when I urged him to his feet and pulled his own pants down to his knees.

He looked at me as he kicked them away, then he yanked me to my feet and jerked his chin toward the bed. I nodded, grabbing both hands, and I backed up until my knees hit the mattress and I collapsed. Tameron’s strong hands guided me down, and he swung his leg up and over me as I shuffled to sit against the headboard. His weight settled on my thighs.

I lifted his hand, licked his palm, and then guided him down to grip us both. “Just like this,” I told him, then grabbed his hips.

He nodded and held me tight. His hand was smaller than mine, so he took himself in his other one, keeping the same motion—a firm, fierce stroke. The room suddenly filled with the sound of skin slapping skin.

“Let me hear you,” he gasped. He tipped his head forward and nipped at my lips. “Please, Day. Let me have your voice.”

I didn’t hold back. I groaned loudly, thrusting into the circle of his fingers, and he sped up his hands even more. “Uh, uh. Yes. Just like that. So fucking good. So perfect. Love this so much. Tam, love this, love?—”

He kissed me. Maybe he was afraid of what I might say next. Hell,Iwas terrified. I sucked on his tongue and bit at his mouth as my orgasm crashed through me. With a heavy moan, I let go, spilling over his knuckles, and he stroked me as my dick kicked and emptied my balls onto us both.

He followed seconds later, letting my cock go to pin my shoulder to the bed. His moan was deep and thready, and as hecame, he sobbed. It took me a moment to break out of the haze to realize that he was actually crying, and when he let his own dick go, he collapsed against me.

My arms gripped him tight, pressing him hard into my chest, rocking him back and forth. Shit, had I fucked up?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he was whispering.

I waited until his breathing evened out a bit, then I eased him back and tipped his chin up to look at me. “Was it the sex?”

He shook his head. His eyes were still red-rimmed, his cheeks stained with tear tracks.

The answer offered no relief. No peace. He still looked shattered. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He swallowed thickly, then shook his head again. His eyes grew worried, like maybe he was afraid I’d force the issue.

I lifted a hand and signed, ‘Do you want to stay with me tonight?’

After a long, long beat of silence, his grip on me tightened, and he nodded.

I nodded and brushed the hair back from his forehead. “Okay. That’s fine. As long as you need.”

After another pause, he lifted his fingers to his chin and tipped them forward. ‘Thank you.’

I didn’t think I needed to tell him in that moment that he would never need to thank me for this.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TAMERON

Two a.m. I stared at the bright-red numbers on Dayton’s alarm clock, watching them mock me. Next to me, Dayton slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. His face was relaxed in sleep, all the usual tension gone from his features. One arm was thrown casually over his head while the other rested on his stomach, his fingers occasionally twitching. Every now and then, he’d let out a soft snore, and even without my hearing aids, I could feel the gentle vibration of it through the mattress.

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