Page 130 of The Pairing

“Is this the manhandling you were talking about?”

“Yes,” I say, standing between their legs, tugging them closer so their hips are nearly at the edge. “Come here.”

“Zut alors, I feel like a sack offlour— Ohfuck.”

I cut them off with a touch, the flat of my thumb drawing a blunt, smearing circle just the way they like, the way I did to that peach in Monaco. I bite back a swear when I feel how astonishingly wet they are, even though it’s the first they’ve been touched tonight. All this melting softness, all because of how much they enjoyed fucking me. I’m kneeling before I know it, half hunger, half supplication.

“What are you doing?” they demand, watching me on their elbows. “You’re supposed to fuck me.”

“Let me taste,” I say. “Please.” And God knows Theo will never deny me a meal.

I fill my mouth with that innate, vital bittersweetness of them, pull them between my lips and savor. My tongue dips briefly, indulgently—Theo moans—and I decide that’s enough to satisfy the craving.

“Thank you,” I say, adoring the crease of annoyance between their brows as I stand. I grip their hips, not quite pressing where they want me. “Did you want me to keep going?”

“Fucking cocktease,” they whine. My heart sings. “Dosomething,please.”

“I will, if you can be a good—” I pause. “What should I call you?”

Theo blinks, like I’ve asked them to solve my riddles three in the middle of sex.

“Uh—definitely not girl.”

“No, obviously. Boy?”

“Sometimes,” Theo says. They lower their gaze to the point where our bodies nearly meet, biting their lip at the sight of us. In a quiet, raw voice, they say, “I could be your bottom, if you want.”

My body answers for me, visibly twitching.

“Yeah?” I breathe out. “You want me to top you?”

Theo looks up with wide eyes, something wild and new in them. They nod fast and hard.

I press the condom packet to their lower lip.

“Then be a good bottom for me.”

With no further instruction, they rip the packet open with their teeth.

When I’m ready, I guide their hands to the backs of their own thighs, pushing their knees up toward their chest, and they catch on quickly to this too. A vulnerable blush spills like wine down their throat, but they don’t look away. They hold my gaze and open themself to me.

“That’s perfect,” I say, taking them by the waist, voice shaking. “God, I fucking adore you.”

The ease of the first push shocks a gasp from us both, as if their body has kept a place for me. One roll of my hips and I sink to the hilt, and we’re there together, fluid and engulfing andknown.

“Fuck me,” Theo begs. So I do.

It’s furious and desperate and deep, the sounds of our bodies filling our little half-dark room. Theo takes it beautifully. They hold their head up to watch as long as they can, stomach muscles shaking with the effort, lip bitten between their teeth, hair bouncing across their brow. When they collapse onto the bed, they fall back in glorious surrender. I’m barely in control of my body, but I’m so absolutely inside of it, aware of every nerve, every rippling touch, the most of everything.

I always loved how similar our bodies were, that we were almost the exact same height and size, as if we were so entwined that we grew to mirror each other. I loved how easy it was to touch myself and pretend I was touching them, how we had the same insatiable appetites. And in this bed, in our bodies, I’m overwhelmed with the understanding that we never stopped reflecting each other. We’ve become a perfect match, two lovers with equal capacity and equal desire to fuck and be fucked.

I surge onto the bed, catching one of Theo’s legs to hold them open as I crush our mouths together.

“I love you,” I say, trembling all over, our faces close enough to share breath.

They wrap their arms around my neck and press their forehead to mine.

“I love you,” they answer. “I love you so fucking much.”

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