Page 149 of Pucking Strong

“Henrik—”

His teeth scrape over my skin, drawing a sound like a whimper from my throat. “No one touches you but me, mitt hjärta.Say it.”

“No one,” I pant, moving my hips against him, desperate for some friction.

He drops a hand between us, cupping my dick, and I wanna die. Oh god, he’s never been so deliberate before. His hold on me is firm as he presses in, practically lifting me off the ground. His other hand stays twisted up in my hair. I’m on my toes, pressed against the side of this damn truck, with Henrik holding my cash and fucking prizes like a dragon clutching his treasure.

“Baby, please.”

“What do you want?” He kisses along my neck, nipping and nuzzling my ear. “Speak. Tell me what you want from me.”

“I want more.”

“What more?” He squeezes my crotch tighter, and I think I might just come. Is there such a thing as a seismic orgasm? Because this isn’t biology anymore—it’s geology. Like how compression makes diamonds.

Fuck, I can’t even think.

I cling to his shoulders. “Henrik, baby, please. I want more. I wantyou. I want—god, I want everything. Anything you’ll give me.”

His hold on me relaxes a little. “I’ve never been with a man before.”

I turn my face to his, my nose brushing his cheek. “I know. But you’re already so good at everything we’ve tried. And you can’t fake chemistry like this,” I add, pressing my hand over his heart. “What we have? How this feels? Do you know how fucking rare this is? Not to get too cheesy, but in the immortal words of Kiss, I was made for lovin’ you, baby.”

He chuckles, leaning away with a shake his head.

“What?”

He cups my cheek, smoothing his thumb over my freckles. He likes to do that, following the line of my cheekbone. “Du är så vacker.”

I grin, feeling nervous. “What does that mean?”

Leaning in, he kisses me. “It means, I’m taking you home now.”

I perk up. “Yeah? And then what?”

“And then I’m taking off all your clothes,” he says against my lips. “And I’m putting you in my bathtub.”

Teddy sits naked in my lap, straddling my legs. His hands are braced on my shoulders while mine frame his narrow waist. This bathtub is meant for total immersion, so there’s a seat inside, wide enough for us to fit comfortably. Hot water covers us to mid-chest, steam misting our cheeks. His locs are tied up on the crown of his head. A spray of thin end pieces stick out on the sides. I wish I had a camera now. I would capture him just like this—naked, and glistening, and perfect.

This feels like a timeless moment. You get so few of them in life. Moments when every part of you is set to record. It’s not just something you see with your eyes or feel with your hands. Your soul takes a picture too.

And human memory is such a fickle thing. Mom taught me that. You can’t rely on just your eyes and ears to record the passing of time. That’s all we get in this life: memories that fade over time. Like photographs, the edges become warped and discolored, sometimes damaged beyond all repair.

But a truly timeless moment? Moments even your soul sits up and takes notice of? Those make an imprint deeper than a photograph. Those last forever.

Reaching my hand out of the bath, I touch Teddy’s face. Water slips down my arm, dripping back into the tub. All the while, he looks at me, breathing with me,beingwith me. This beautiful man,made of sharp angles. His hard cock waits in the water. I haven’t touched it yet, but I’m going to. Tonight. And soon.

For now, it’s enough just to look at him.

This man came crashing into my life with all the subtly of an earthquake. He shook me to my very foundation. In the span of weeks, I’ve been remade. There was the Henrik Karlsson before Teddy. And there will be the Henrik Karlsson after.

“What are you thinking?” he whispers, breaking our silence. He lifts a hand too, his wet fingertips brushing over my brow.

I lean back against the wall of the tub, smiling up at him. “I’m thinking I want to photograph you, sitting here just like this, looking down at me with that look in your eyes.”

He shifts on my lap, water sloshing. “Do you do that a lot?”

“What? Take pictures of beautiful naked men on my lap? No. Never.”

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