Page 39 of Gravity
Everything I don't know—about this world, about my life—could fill the oceans, but there are a few things Idoknow: Bryce and I, together, mean something. There is something between us, something that maybe has always been there, waiting to be discovered and unearthed. Is this what falling in love really is? Discovering pieces of yourself inside another person? Finding that half of your heart lives within another? Having all your questions and wonders and worries from before answered through the shape of someone else's smile?
Bryce is answering a lot questions for me—ones I didn't know to ask, ones I never thought of before him. Why haven't I fallen head over heels for a woman? Why have my relationships been measured in weeks, or even single nights? I used to think it was me and how I quiet I was, and how my inner world seemed to be something I was never able to share with someone else. I've never spent a whole night talking beneath the stars with anyone… except for him.
Twenty-two years old, the pursuit of a dream, and not a lot of time to date women. Not a lot of inclination, either, and maybe that should have been a clue. Mix all of that up, and it's a recipe to make a guy unaware of a few things that maybe I should have known before Bryce's lips closed over mine in that hotel room.
I am not unaware now.
My eyes are open. He is my North Star.
I don't have answers for the world, but I have an answer for Bryce. I want this, and I want him.
Kissing him is like a first morning skate on fresh ice, or a perfect shot on goal that bends the net. It's a rush, jolts of perfection sliding up my veins and burrowing into my brain. I kiss him once and instantly want more, and more. Bryce grips the front of my hoodie in his fists and sags into me. His tongue brushes across my lips.
He's trembling. I slide my hands into his hair and he groans. I kiss the sound away. Our tongues tangle, and then our lips, and then our tongues again.Never stop. Never, ever stop.
He takes me with him as he walks backward out of the living room and down a hallway toward an open door and a dim room. His bedroom.
Our kiss never breaks. We move as one and start stripping on the way, tearing off hoodies and locking our lips back together an instant later, then pawing at belts and pants and toeing off boots. We're both naked when we reach the edge of his bed.
He falls back, and I follow. His legs spread, and my knees land on the mattress inside his thighs. His arms wrap around my neck, and we're kissing again as I grind into him. We're both rock hard, and this time, it’s me who groans as he deepens our kiss.
We could make love like this again, like we did twice last night. I'm all for it. I'd spend the next eighteen hours in his bed if I had my way. We don’t need to be anywhere until practice before tomorrow's game. Let's while away those hours here in each other's arms. Every moment we're together is another answer for me, and, hopefully, for him. Yes, this is right. Yes, this is what I want. Yes, he is who I adore.
Yes, I could fall in love with him.
His hands touch me everywhere. His fingers caress my shoulders, stroke down my arms. He throws his legs around my waist and pulls me to him, and his thighs clench and hold as he arches into me as I rock into him.
Then we're rolling, and I'm on my back as he straddles me. It's like Vegas: him on top, his legs outside of mine. But this time, we're naked, and I feel his ass against my cock. I break our kiss as I grab hold of his hips in both of my hands and grit my teeth together.
Bryce kisses the corner of my jaw. “Mon coeur,” he breathes. “Je t'adore.”
His lips move down my neck, across my collar bone, and down to the center of my chest. He sinks his fingers into my chest hair and runs his thumbs across the hard nubs of my nipples. I throw my head against the mattress and moan his name.
He crawls between my legs, his lips still moving down my body. He's exploring, trailing his tongue over my ribs and sucking gently on my skin. His thumbs drag from my hips to my thighs.
And then he'sthere,kneeling between my spread thighs. His hands are shaking where they're holding onto my legs. He looks up. Our eyes meet. I can barely see any blue at all. His pupils are so huge and dilated his eyes look black.
Bryce drags his cheek over my cock. “S'il te plaît?” he whispers.
I should be the one sayingplease, but I can't speak. I can't form a single word in my mind. I nod. My toes curl, and my fingers dig into the loose blanket beneath me.
Bryce shivers from his head to his toes, and he looks at my cock like a starving man offered a juicy slab of steak. He presses his face against the shaft. Exhales, and then drops a line of kisses from my tip and down, all the way to my root and then to my balls. He buries his face in my crotch and breathes in as I clench my teeth and try desperately to hold back from coming.
He takes his time exploring me, as if he's dreamed of this and wants to savor every moment. He suckles at the skin where my thigh and hip join, then kisses his way up and down my shaft again and again. Noses my balls, and then sucks on each, and licks away the precome that's weeping from my slit.
Finally—finally—he wraps his lips around my cock head, and his eyes lock on mine as his cheeks hollow and he takes me deep into his mouth.
I keen. Grasp his blanket and his bedsheets so tightly the corners pop free. My heels dig into Bryce's mattress, and Bryce's fingers, in turn, dig into my thighs. He sucks me almost all the way to the root, and his tongue glides up the underside of my shaft before he moans and his eyelids flutter, as if he's tasting his most favorite thing in the world.
I’m not going to last long. Not with him sucking me like this or looking as blissed out as he does. He's sucking, bobbing on my cock, trying to take more of me into his mouth. He's got almost all of me, but still, he wants more. My cock head hits the back of his throat. He groans and looks me, again, right in the eyes. And swallows.
I gasp, something that sounds like part of his name and part of a curse, or maybe a cry to God. There's no holding back anymore, and I grip his shoulder and try to pull him off before I explode. He takes my hand and pins it to the mattress, holding me down as he sucks harder, deeper, and—
I burst, my back arching, toes curling, thighs quaking. My come bursts out so fast and hard it's like he's sucked it from my balls. Bryce does his best, but I've just given him a geyser, and this is his first time. He makes a valiant effort, but his lips and chin are soaked when he pulls back, and, fuck, I want to lick him clean.
I'm on him in a heartbeat, tugging him to me as I kiss him. I thought he was shaking before, but that's nothing compared to how he is now. My arms wrap around him as I hunt for my taste in his mouth. He's chanting my name, calling out French I can't translate, whimpering against my lips as he bucks and grinds. I get a hand between us and take hold of his cock. A few strokes, and then I'll go down on him. He'll be the first man I've ever blown, and maybe, he'll be the only man I ever blow, too. If we can hold on to this, then he'll be all of my tomorrows and my forever.
But I only get two strokes before Bryce stills. No breath, no movement, nothing at all, except for the way he stares into my eyes and searches the depths of me. His lips part, and he holds my face in one hand—
