Page 71 of Salvaged Heart
He chuckled. “And what mood is that?”
“I think you know.” I took his hand and placed it on my rapidly hardening cock. He flicked an eyebrow up at me as he gave a light squeeze. It twitched eagerly under his palm.
“I see.”
“Uh huh.”
I couldn’t hold myself back much longer. I shrugged off my coat, then slipped his down his arms and let them both fall to the floor. Next, my hands moved to his sweater, and he lifted his arms as I dragged it over his head. His fingers fluttered to the buttons on his dress shirt, but I battered them away.
“Let me, baby,” I whispered, and the shiver that rolled through him at the pet name lit me up inside. “I want to take care of you.”
“You always do.”
“Because I enjoy it. Because it turns me on.”
He didn’t fight it. He just locked eyes with me as I slowly undid each button, the whole act feeling incredibly intimate and overcharged with emotion. The look on his face threatened to set my entire world on fire. I wanted to go slow and spend hours making up for all that lost time, but the aching need inside me threatened to take over at any minute. I was powerless to stop it. I finally got the last buttons undone and slid the shirt down his arms to the floor, then reached behind my head and tugged my sweater and t-shirt off in one go.
“Bed,” I grunted.
The look of his bare torso, covered in those sexy as fuck tattoos, reduced my vocabulary to that of a caveman. He’d put on weight since I last saw him, his ribs no longer stuck out, and his flat stomach had the slightest definition of abs. That light dusting of hair dropping below the waistband of his pants drove me to the edge of insanity. I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of his honey-bronzed skin, the tight muscles in his back,and that plump, gorgeous ass. I wanted to sink into it more than anything, and I sent up a silent prayer that he would let me one day.
He flopped down on the bed on his back and looked up at me, eyes hooded, taking me in the same way I had just been ogling him.
“Like what you see, baby?”
He nodded, biting his teeth into his full lower lip.
I undid my belt slowly, flicking open the top button on my pants and pushing them to the floor with my boxer briefs. I took my cock in my hand and gave it a few teasing tugs, which he watched longingly, his pupils blown wide with need.
“You see how hard you make me?”
“Beck.” My name came out as barely more than a gasp.
He swallowed hard, letting out a whimper as I ran my fingers up the inside of his still-covered thigh before pushing himself into a seated position and tugging my mouth to his. The kiss was bruising. All tongue and teeth, and hot, breathy moans that I desperately swallowed down. I climbed onto him, pressing his lithe body down onto the mattress, my hips moving on their own accord, desperately chasing friction as I ground against him. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours before I was able to come up for air, but I was facing the very real danger of coming like this if we didn’t slow down.
“What do you want, Anders? I’ll give you anything.” I breathed the words into his neck. His skin was flushed and tasted slightly salty from the beads of sweat forming there. He smelled fucking edible, like bergamot and citrus and pure sex.
“I want you inside me.”
I pulled back, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all that was there was pure, unbridled want. “You sure?”
“So damn sure it’s not even funny.”
The noise that came out of me was practically feral. In all our months apart, just getting to be here with him like this would have been enough. I’d close my eyes and beg for one more kiss, one more smile, one more night of his lean body wrapped up in mine. But at night, when the want and longing had grown too much, I would close my eyes and picture him below me, his legs spread as I pounded into the warm, tight heat of his ass. I had cum one too many times to that thought alone, my hand a poor substitute for the images my imagination was dreaming up.
Before his overdose, I never imagined he'd let me be with him that way. He hadn’t told me much about the incidents that led to his hesitation around sex, but the little he had shared, it would be hard for him to trust a man to take his body in that way again. I’d been content with the idea that one day he would fuck me, and I might never get to do it in return.
Hell, anything he was willing to give me was a blessing. But this, this was a gift I did not deserve.
“You’ll have to tell me what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.” I’d never forgive myself. I couldn’t become one of the many men who had used and hurt him.
He didn’t try to reassure me with empty words that I wouldn’t. He just helped me strip off the rest of his clothes before falling back to the bed, not breaking eye contact with me the entire time. He looked completely spent already, his breaths coming out in shallow pants. I tried to soak in the moment, the image of him laying on my bed, in my room, fucking desperate for me. It would be my undoing.
I left him for just a moment to grab supplies from my bedside table, but he looked at the foil packet I’d thrown down with the lube next to him with hesitation in his eye.
“We know I’m clean,” He murmured, and he sounded so unsure. “Any reason we need this?”
Was he asking me for what I thought he was?
