Page 37 of The Vines Between Us
Hugo's fingers trembled as they worked at my shirt buttons. The first brush of his fingertips against my bare chest sent electricity coursing through me. When my shirt fell open, he groaned low in his throat, a sound of raw hunger that hardened me instantly.
"Fuck, I've missed this," he breathed, pushing the fabric from my shoulders.
I yanked his sweater over his head, desperate to feel skin against skin. Hugo's body had transformed in our years apart. The slender boy I'd known had become a man with broad shoulders and a taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading tantalizingly downward. New scars marked his skin—a burn on his forearm, a thinwhite line across his shoulder. I traced each one with my tongue, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling him shudder beneath my mouth.
His hands fumbled with my belt buckle, our breathing ragged and uneven. I helped him, then attacked his jeans with equal urgency. When we finally stood naked before each other, I couldn't help but stare. His cock stood proudly erect, thicker than I remembered, the head glistening with pre-cum.
"Christ, you're beautiful," I whispered, dropping to my knees before him.
I took him in my mouth without preamble, moaning around his length as his hands fisted in my hair. The familiar taste of him flooded my senses—salt and musk and pure Hugo. I started slow, working him with my tongue before taking him deeper, relaxing my throat as I'd learned to do. His breath hitched as I took him fully, my nose pressing against the coarse hair at his base.
"Fuck, Alexandre," he groaned, his grip tightening in my hair as I held him there, throat working around him before pulling back to breathe.
I repeated the motion, taking him deep again and again, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the intensity. His hips jerked forward involuntarily as I alternated between the deep taking and hollowing my cheeks to suck harder, my hands gripping his firm ass to control the rhythm.
"Alexandre," he gasped, tugging me upward with shaking hands. "Stop or this ends too soon."
I allowed him to pull me up, my breath coming in ragged pants, my body trembling with need. Hugo guided me backward until my legs hit the edge of Hugo’s bed, his eyes never leaving mine. The hunger I saw there made my throat go dry.
"Lie back," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "Let me look at you."
I complied, sinking onto the soft bedding, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze. Hugo stood at the foot of the bed,drinking me in. The intensity of his stare was almost physical—I could feel it like a caress across my skin.
"Do you have any idea how many times I've dreamed of having you like this again?" he said.
Staring at him, I reveled in the lean muscles of his torso. My fingers itched to trace the contours, to relearn the body I'd once known so intimately.
"Tell me," I managed, my voice embarrassingly hoarse.
Hugo crawled onto the bed, hovering above me without touching. "Nearly every night for fourteen years." He lowered his head, his breath warm against my neck. "Every. Single. Night."
When his lips finally made contact with my throat, I shuddered violently. He took his time there, exploring the sensitive skin with lips, tongue, and the occasional scrape of teeth that sent electricity coursing through my veins. My hands clutched at the bedding, desperate for an anchor.
"Hugo," I pleaded, not even sure what I was asking for.
"Patience," he murmured against my collarbone. "We've waited fourteen years. I'm not rushing this."
His mouth continued its torturous journey downward, mapping my chest with deliberate care. When his tongue flicked across my nipple, I arched off the bed with a strangled cry. He chuckled against my skin, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through me.
"Still sensitive here," he observed, not a question but a statement of remembered knowledge. He lavished attention on first one nipple, then the other, until I was writhing beneath him, my cock painfully hard and leaking against my stomach.
"Please," I gasped, reaching for him.
Hugo caught my wrists, pinning them gently beside my head. "Not yet." His eyes held mine, searching. "I want to remember every centimetre of you."
He released my wrists and continued his downward exploration, his mouth tracing the lines of my abdomen, his hands stroking my thighs, carefully avoiding where I most wanted to betouched. The anticipation was excruciating, a sweet torture that had me trembling and incoherent.
When he finally settled between my legs, his breath ghosting over my aching cock, I was nearly delirious with need. He looked up the length of my body, his eyes dark with desire.
"Watch me," he commanded softly.
I propped myself up on my elbows, unable to look away as he slowly, deliberately ran his tongue from base to tip. The sight combined with the sensation tore a desperate moan from my throat. My arms threatened to give out as he took me into his mouth, the wet heat overwhelming.
"Hugo," I warned, my voice breaking. "I can't—if you keep—"
He pulled away, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. "Not yet," he said, his voice ragged. "I'm not done with you."
When Hugo finally moved up to pin me beneath him, I was a quivering mess of need. His mouth claimed mine in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperate hunger. I arched against him, our cocks sliding together in delicious friction that had me seeing stars.
