Page 43 of Drifting Hearts
Deserving or not, I still wanted to touch him, so I dragged my good hand over his body, roaming his skin. Kieran’s breathing changed when I reached between us and cupped him through the fabric of his briefs. I held him in my hand, enjoying the heat and the heft of him.
Kieran deepened the kiss and rutted against my hand. “I could come like this,” he said against my mouth.
He kissed me again and thrust into my hand like he’d meant it when he said he could come.
I let go of him. “You better not come unless it’s in me,” I told him. My cheeks felt like twin infernos, but it earned me a smile from Kieran. It was soft around the edges, but his eyes remained filled with heat and lust.
“Tell me how you want it,” Kieran said.
I wanted to look at him the whole time. To have him take me and own me and let me drown in his eyes when he did it. If I never got here again, I wanted to pretend I knew what it was like to be loved.
“Don’t make me choose,” I told him. I didn’t feel strong enough to ask for what I wanted and I believed that Kieran would know anyway. Sometimes I thought he might know me better than I knew myself.
He pressed his lips to mine and eased his tongue inside again. We kissed. We breathed. We touched. And for a few minutes, we just existed in this bubble of perfection where desire and need took a back seat to affection. Kieran kissed me like I meant something to him so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he told me he wanted me just like this.
“So I can look at you,” he said, eyes heavy with emotion.
I pulled him down into another kiss so I wouldn’t say anything stupid… like how much I loved him.
Chapter 22
Kieran
Maybe it had beeninevitable for us to end up here, like this. I liked to think that every decision, big and small, that we made before now had led us to this point. Like Fate had a compass and we were her true north.
Beneath me, Clay trembled. I wanted to kiss away his fear, his apprehension, and leave him with only want. And I did my best to do just that. Pressing my mouth against his, I swept my tongue inside and caressed every inch of him I could. I consumed him. Devoured him until he was nothing but breath and desire. Until his trembling stopped and his wriggling began.
“Is there something you need?” I asked, kissing the curve of his neck. His skin was soft and impossibly hot. Laughter huffed out of him in response.
“I need you to hurry up.” Clayton squirmed around, grinding up into me.
“But I’m just getting started.”
Clayton let out a tortured groan and went still beneath me. “You’re killing me, Kieran.”
A laugh rumbled out of me. I loved how faux-dramatic he was sometimes. Every time we were alone, it was like another chip of his shell cracked and the real Clayton shone through.
“You win.” I stretched over to the nightstand to grab the lube and a row of condoms. I tossed the condoms on the bed next to Clay and he looked at them, then looked up at me, arching his eyebrow.
“Someone’s ambitious.”
“Hopeful,” I corrected. “Once won’t be enough.”
He whimpered and pulled me down into a searing kiss. I loved the taste of his want, the feel of his desperation as he kissed me like he owned me.
No longer willing to wait, I broke the kiss. Clay looked up at me with a softness in his gaze that I was sure I hadn’t seen before. It was like all his walls finally crumbled down and he was defenseless for the first time. I rolled off him and lay next to him instead. His legs eased apart for me as I lubed my fingers. I could barely look at him for how fucking beautiful he was. It was like staring into the sun.
We kissed and my fingers found their way between his legs, into the crease of his ass. Lube-slick, I teased his rim and kissed him harder, swallowing every whimper that escaped. They belonged to me. Clay took a deep breath when I pressed the first finger inside him. If he thought I was going to make this quick, he had another thing coming.
I teased his hole, sliding my finger in and out slowly, until he was soft and pliable. His body shook against mine and sometimes he got so caught up in feeling that he forgot to kiss me back. He panted against my mouth, breathing me in. A long, low moan tore out of him when I inserted another finger. His hole was impossibly tight around the new, thicker intrusion and I wondered if he could take three fingers. Or four.
“Kieran… God.” Clay sighed, clinging to me, rocking on my hand, fucking himself on my fingers. He was stunning. Debauched. His pupils were wide and black and threatened to overwhelm me whole. Red, kiss-swollen lips parted and a tongue darted out to wet them.
His gaze tore away from mine and he twisted around to grab the row of condoms. He tore one off and handed it to me. Clay asking for what he wanted made my dick twitch. He was hot. Forceful without being overbearing. Demanding, but only because he was desperate.
He still whined in complaint when I pulled my fingers out of him. I’d planned to finger him until he was a sobbing, writhing mess, but Clay’s insistence made it hard to resist doing things his way.
I rolled the condom down my cock then slathered it with more lube. I didn’t know when the last time Clay had been fucked was, and I wasn’t going to ask. It didn’t matter to me when he’d last had sex or who it was with. His past had no place between us right now.
