Page 42 of Drifting Hearts
“It would.” I exhaled. “Are you a mind reader?”
“Not really.” Kieran grinned and climbed over me and carefully plopped down on the other side. Now the cast was between us, but that meant my other hand could explore. “But you got all twitchy.”
“I do not get twitchy.”
Kieran kissed the tip of my nose. “He said twitchily.”
“Is that even a word?”
“My area of expertise is math—and this,” Kieran said before wriggling down to leave a trail of hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down my chest. He kissed my Stitch tattoo and a flare of affection lit me up inside. I wanted to squirm out of my skin, not because I was uncomfortable. But happy. And happy felt dangerous. It felt wrong somehow to have caused so much hurt and to turn around and be this happy.
Kieran’s mouth kissed away some of my nerves. Right from the beginning, he hadn’t bullshitted me about anything. He’d not hidden his suspicion or his animosity. So now that they were gone, he wasn’t hiding how much he liked me. At least not from me. He was hiding it from everyone else, but I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t admit to being with me either if I were him.
“You think too much.” He kissed a particularly ticklish patch of skin above my bellybutton and I flinched away from the touch. His gaze flicked up to meet mine. “Ticklish in a good way, or in a bad way?”
“What’s the bad way?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Good ticklish makes your dick hard. Bad ticklish doesn’t.”
“Kieran, I’ve been jerking with my left hand. I am not left-handed. At this point, everything makes me hard. But if it’s all the same to you, we can put tickling in the not-sexy column.”
“Are you going to tell me about this left-handed jerking?” Kieran tugged at the waist of my briefs.
I lifted my hips, allowing him to pull them off. My dick was already hard and leaking and Kieran’s breath ghosting across it made it twitch. He glanced up at me and smiled. “You know, I’ll admit that I half expected a tattoo to be here.”
“Absolutely not.” I cringed at the thought of it. “You’re insane.”
Kieran shrugged and then bent and trailed kisses down the crease of my thigh, following one of the constellations. Most of the time I didn’t think of my tattoos. They were part of me. But every now and then I wondered what others might think of them.
He kissed every star before making his way to my aching dick. At this point, I felt like a gentle breeze might set me off, but Kieran wrapped a hand around the base of my dick and squeezed. A deep breath rushed into my lungs and I held it there, my body rigid as Kieran helped to quell my arousal.
When I finally managed to exhale, his tongue met the head of my leaking cock. The sound that came out of me was inhuman. A broken wail, a mournful keen, the sound of me knowing nothing and no one would feel as good as Kieran.
Then he opened wide and took the head of my cock and slid it across his tongue, then down into his mouth until it disappeared. Wet heat enveloped me and I pressed my eyes shut and focused on breathing. On feeling the way Kieran’s tongue flattened underneath my cock. On how his cheeks hollowed as he sucked me deeper. Whenever he’d pull back, his tongue would flutter around the head of my cock, teasing and tormenting me. I was powerless to do anything but lie there and be taken apart by him.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to come.” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was breathier, tighter, filled with ecstasy and wonder.
Kieran released the suction on my cock and it made a lewd sound. His gaze flicked up to mine and he grinned. “That’s sort of the idea.”
“But I want you to fuck me.” I bit my lip after the admission, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious what I wanted.
“Oh, I will.” He kissed the base of my cock. “I want to make you come, then I want to kiss you and touch you and make you wild, Clay.”
I already felt wild, but I wanted, more than anything, to have what he’d described.
My eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head when he used his mouth to toy with my balls. Sucking on one, then the other. He licked and kissed and caressed them and when I was so strung out on the lust that was building in me, Kieran pinned my hips to the bed and took my cock down his throat in one long, impressive slide.
I reached for him, sinking my good hand into his hair as I tried in vain to arch up into him, as if I could go any deeper than I was.
Arousal was a chain around my chest, pulling tighter with every twitch of Kieran’s mouth, every beat of my heart. “Kieran—close. I’m close.”
He kept going. My warning didn’t stop him or slow him, or deter him from humming, sending vibrations through me. I came so hard it felt like something in me shattered and broke. The universe went white and my hips thrust ineffectively as I spilled down Kieran’s throat.
He kept going until I wriggled under him, whimpering when my cock went from eager to be pleased to too sensitive to touch. Kieran made his way back up to my mouth, leaving no patch of skin unkissed on his way.
By the time he made it back to me, my dick was already wanting to get hard again. Kissing Kieran made my blood sing. It made me want things I had no business wanting. Things like this. Like him. Like more nights at his mom’s with people he called family. I wanted more laughter. More aimless drives in his car. Road trips. A life.
I wanted to wrap myself up in Kieran and never let go. More than anything, I wanted to deserve it. Deserve him. And I knew I didn’t. Not yet.
