Page 49 of Loving Trent
I want to be a mess because I know Trent will be there to hold me.
I want to no longer be in control, to feel the freedom of letting someone else carry my weight, if only for a little while.
I suck on his tongue and then pull back. “Then we are the same. The same thing happened to me earlier. Something came to life inside me…” Trent’s hands tighten on my ass. “Fuck, Baby. It’s absolutely insane how much I want you.” My hands tighten in his hair, and a low moan falls from Trent’s parted lips. The blackness of his pupils is consuming the brown, and a lust-fueled fire burns bright. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but that doesn’t matter to me.”
A cocky grin grows, and Trent tilts his head to the side. His hands tighten as he brings me even closer to him. I moan and thrust my hips slightly, needing some relief. “I’ve never dated before, but I think that is what people do, right? They get to know the other person.” Trent’s breath skates over my wet lips. A shiver of anticipation for what is going to happen next wrecks me.
Chuckling, my teeth nip his bottom lip. “Yes, they do. So…” I tense my arms, hoping it will give him a clue about what I’m about to do. I bounce on my toes, and I’m in his arms a second later. My legs wrap around him as my back presses against the truck. This position is so much better because now I feel his dick pressing fully up against mine. “We’re?—”
“You’re mine, Shawn. I don’t care what label we put on it,” Trent says darkly. He attacks my neck, biting, sucking, and licking his way from my Adam’s apple up to my chin. I lean my head back to give him more room.
“Only if that means you’re mine,” I say breathlessly.
Trent nips my chin and demands, “Look at me, Baby Boy.” He waits until I lower my head, and our gazes collide. “I’ve always been yours.”
Twenty-Four
TRENT
"That's so fucking hot," Shawn says before I shut him up for good by slamming my lips against his. Did I do it a little hard? Probably, but I don't care right now.
All evening, I've been battling that stupid beast inside that demands I tell Harley to go into her room while I pull Shawn to ours and ravish him. Learning how his exes treated him last night was a reason for me to pump the brakes and take this slower. Had I had any indication that he was scared of pushing me too far, I would have never calmed myself down while cleaning up for supper.
It was surprising when Shawn's touch didn't trigger any bad memories of Sandy and her hands on me. But I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. I won't overanalyze it either because that will just be putting more wins in her column, and she has enough. She has taken enough from me and tainted me enough. I fucking refuse to allow her to taint this. To taint him. I finally opened up and told someone the one thing that I never allowed myself to admit until I was free of that fucking place.
Every single time Sandy touched me, I fantasized that it was Shawn. Back then, I hated that my mind always conjured himup, but once Maria got me to see that there was nothing wrong with being gay, I accepted it.
And now I have the real fucking deal in my hands. It's so much better than my fucking fantasy. That's for damn sure.
Shawn is a withering, moaning, and almost begging mess in my arms. I'm sure he has now pulled out a handful of my hair. But I don’t mind it one little bit. “Why don't we take this somewhere more private and have that talk about limits?” Our chests brush against each other as we try to suck in lungfuls of air, and I swear if he just touches my dick, I'm going to shoot off like a teenager.
Shawn's eyes are glassy as he nods. Without putting him down, I stalk to the house, through the front door, and down the hall. Before I went to find Shawn and talk about the tension between us, Harley told me she was going to bed and reminded me that she slept with her radio on. Once we’re in the bedroom, with the door shut, I place Shawn on the edge of the bed and back up. We definitely need space between us to have this talk. Even though I'm sure we don't have to have this talk. Limits… with Shawn? What are those?
Shawn is still staring at me with those glassy, come fuck me eyes, and I'm about to rip through my jeans to get to him. “Okay, you were afraid of pushing me too far,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall. My hands are tightly clenched to keep myself from reaching out to touch him.
"Right," Shawn shakes his head and scoots back. "You glossed over what happened at that place, and I was?—”
Keeping it very clinical, I tell him what happened. "I was raped by a woman who may or may not have been a doctor. She performed oral sex on me and made me perform it on her. She would force me to have penetrating sex with her."
Shawn's muscles bunch up, and his jaw ticks. "When we find her, I'm going to enjoy watching her life drain out."
The darkness radiating off him only adds fuel to my lust and need for him. "Me too, Baby Boy."
"So, what do I need to know when touching you?"
Leaning up, I take a small step toward him. Grabbing my shirt at the base of my neck, I pull it over my head, leaving me in only my black tank. "Nothing, because when you touch me, I don't see, feel, or hear her."
Shawn's eyes trace over my arms and down my chest, and it feels like a physical caress, leaving behind nothing but a gut-wrenching need to feel his hands on me. "You said outside that that was the first orgasm you've had that didn't leave you feeling dirty."
I flick the button on my jeans and step out of them, stepping closer to him. "I've never been with anyone willingly. I've already told you this."
Shawn's eyes are glued to my dick, and I push him a step further. I stroke from base to tip, giving it a harsh squeeze to starve off my orgasm. But then his eyes drop down to my exposed thighs, and I freeze. Like lightning, Shawn is off the bed and on his knees right in front of me. "What the fuck are these?"
"The one part of my body that I hate more than anything," I say. Automatically, my hands move to cover the scars, but Shawn stops me.
He places his hands over two of the worst burn scars. "Don't hate them," he whispers before bending forward and placing a kiss on each scar. My once flagging erection springs back with vigor as his mouth travels up my thighs. "They prove that you went through something traumatic and came out the other side."
With my throat tightening, I open myself and become vulnerable with the one person that I don't want to run away from me. "They…" I swallow and try again. Shawn looks up at me, and I know he sees the moisture in my eyes. "They aren't the only?—“
