Sloan had never felt so awed and so powerful, all at the same time.
So he drew a wave on one thigh. And then another heart.
Lance grinned. “I love you too.”
He spelled out letters next.
I.
K.
N.
O.
W.
Lance started, almost in shock. That was the expression—pure shock. “Me too. I know too. Do it again.”
So he spelled out. I want you.
“I’ve never been anyone else’s. I’ve always been yours. You’ve always been mine.”
He put his hand flat on Lance’s heart. “I know. I never gave up on you.”
Lance reached out to him, finger spelling outI knowon his chest.
Then Lance took Sloan’s hand and put it on his lightly scarred, fully hard cock. “I know.”
“Oh, honey.” He stroked, his palm fitting to the hard flesh, his thumb rubbing happy circles at the tip when he got there. He stroked down with his fingers, then up with his fist.
He gave Lance all the sensation.
With his other hand, he just kept on touching, skating over Lance’s nipples, his scarred ribs, his tense thighs.
Then he leaned in and gave Lance long, drugging kisses, lingering over them as he touched and teased.
Before long, Lance was putting a hand over his to squeeze. “Harder, babe.”
“You sure?”
“God yes.” Lance showed him the way, and Sloan gave what he asked for, pulling and pushing, rubbing good and hard.
Lance moaned, his hips rocking, all that muscle that was filling in again, rippling. He’d never been more beautiful to Sloan because he was alive and there and willing to fight for this, and he couldn’t believe how fucking amazing it was.
They moved together, Sloan’s cock trying to rise again, even if he wasn’t sure it could, and finally, Lance cried out, the sound loud and almost shocked, as he came all over Sloan’s fist.
They laid there for a long moment, both of them panting, the heat around them intense.
Then Lance laughed, the sound low and a little shocked. “Is there a ceiling fan?”
“Yeah. I’ll get it.”
“Wait.” Lance pulled him down for a kiss. “I did it.”
“We did it, huh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we did. Stunning, babe.”