Page 44 of Drifting Hearts
Clay was too beautiful, stretched out underneath me like some prince waiting to be served. There was a curve to his mouth that looked like happiness. A warmth in his eyes that looked like affection. A tenderness in his touch that felt like hope.
Going slow, I slid my cock into him. I watched his every reaction. Every twitch of his mouth, every gasp and pant and moan. The way his eyelashes fluttered when I pressed inside, deeper and deeper until there was no more of me to go in him.
Like an unspoken agreement rippled between us, we met in the middle for a kiss. Our tongues tangled, battled. Clay sank his hand into my hair, the one with the cast lay against my thigh, a stark reminder of everything he’d been through before now.
I rocked against him to give him time to adjust, time to be driven wild with need. I kept it up until he was begging me. Writhing and moaning and grasping, arching up into me, trying to get me to move.
And when I did, he shivered. Sighed. Grabbed on to me however he could. Wrapping one good arm around my neck, he kept me close to him so he could kiss me. Our foreheads were pressedtogether and the whole world shrank down to just him and me and the way he made me feel. Like I was important. Essential. Worthy. Wanted.
“Kieran,” Clay gasped my name. “Fuck me, please. Need it. Need you. Want to feel you for days.”
I wanted to feel him for forever. An eternity wasn’t long enough.
His wish was my command and I increased my pace. Dragging my cock out of him almost all the way, I slammed it home. Folding myself closer to him, I tucked my hands under him, behind him. I gripped onto the tops of his shoulders and snapped my hips. My face was buried in the curve of his neck and I sucked up a hickey, unwilling to leave him unblemished in some way. It was primal and primitive, but the bloom of purple on his throat shone like a beacon of ownership. Clay was mine in every way that mattered.
A burning need to see his face when he came had me sitting up, looming over him. I grabbed his hips and lifted him, changing the angle of my entry slightly. Clay’s brow furrowed and his eyes rolled back. Forced to let go of me, his good hand wrapped around his cock. I could tell he still wasn’t used to jerking left-handed so I batted his hand away and took over for him.
Every muscle in my body protested the vigorous pace, but I had no intentions of stopping until Clay was a messy puddle of satisfaction. It wasn’t going to take long. Clay’s cock already wept a steady stream of precum and I used it to slick my strokes. My breath caught when Clay clenched around me, gripping my cock with his ass.
Every time he reached for me, my heart sang. He pulled me down to him. It was barely a kiss. Barely anything but lips grazing, but it was enough. It was everything.
I came so hard I saw stars. A white wonderland overtook my vision. I jerked Clay until he whimpered against my mouth. Until he arched into me, and still writhing on my cock, he came too. In thick ropessplattering up his chest. Even more of his sticky release coated my fingers. I kept touching him until he laughed and pushed my hand away.
“God, you’re an evil bastard.” He smirked up at me, not looking the slightest bit put off by my apparent evilness. He let his arms flop out to his sides like an extremely satisfied starfish.
“I should get something to clean up.” I held my hand up and Clay grinned like he knew all my secrets. He grabbed my hand and tugged it toward him. I watched, enraptured, as his tongue darted out of his mouth and he licked his spend off my fingers. He held my gaze as though he were daring me to look away as he cleaned in between my fingers.
“I still have to get up to take care of this.” I motioned to where we were still connected.
Clay sighed and released my hand. “If you have to.”
I leaned down and stole a kiss. “I’ll be quick.” I kept hold of the condom and eased out of him. Unable to resist, I reached down and gently teased his hole with my fingers. It was still soft and supple and were I ready to go again, I could probably slide right back inside him like I’d never left.
I tore myself away from him before I got any bright ideas. In the bathroom across the hall, I threw the condom away and washed my hands. I wet a washcloth and gave my junk a cursory wipe before going to the bedroom.
Clay was on the bed right where I left him, and I liked the look of him there more than I was ready to admit. I stretched out next to him and gently mopped the mess off his chest, then tossed the cloth at the laundry basket, not caring if it missed or not.
“I like being in your bed.” Clay wriggled closer and rolled onto his side. He lay his cast over my chest. “I can’t wait to get this thing off me.”
“I broke my arm when I was about twelve or so. It’s been a while, but I can empathize with your plight.”
“How did you break your arm?”
“Doing stupid shit Shane encouraged me to do. It was during my very brief skateboarder phase.”
“How long did the skateboarder phase last?”
“About three hours,” I confessed the sad and painful truth.
“Three hours is…”
“Pathetic.”
“Commendable.”
“If you say so.”
Clay tilted his head and kissed my chest. “I definitely say so. Now you need to tell me the rest of the story.”
