Page 48 of Counterpoint
In the next moment, Adrian had trapped both Dom’s wrists in his hand, taken his mouth, and had his other hand in Dom’s jeans.
Holy shit. Dom moaned and fought as Adrian jacked him off and feasted on his mouth. The only thing that existed was Adrian’s hard body, the hum of the fridge vibrating into his back, and the feel of that hand fisting his cock hard and fast. There was no way he’d last, but he fought anyway until he came, light blinding his vision and Adrian drinking down his screams.
When Dom came down from his high, he was sagging in Adrian’s arms. “How—how do you do that?”
“How can I not?” Adrian nuzzled his temple. “You look so amazing when you come.”
He hitched a breath. “I’m a mess.” He was falling in love. He shouldn’t be falling in love. Mind-blowing sex wasn’t enough to hang a relationship on.
Except it wasn’t just that. It was everything in between.
Adrian pressed another kiss, this one to Dom’s cheek. “Go clean yourself up, and I’ll finish dinner.”
Dom raised his gaze and found himself looking into those flecked brown eyes. “If this is the appetizer, what’s for dessert?”
Laughter washed over Dom like light and joy, and Adrian’s smile was a spotlight shining on Dom. “Pie. And anything you’d like.”
Oh. Oh god. Dom swallowed, his mind whirling at what that meant. “Anything?”
“Yes.”
“I should go clean up, then.” Dom found his footing and straightened.
Adrian tapped him on the ass. “I’ll be waiting.”
Dom went, cleaned himself up as best he could, then came back downstairs. Dinner was amazing, and yes, between this and the French toast in the morning, Adrian had proved he could cook just as good as he’d implied he could.
They shared a slice of pie—after Adrian had retrieved his cuffs and a blindfold from his bedroom. Hands restrained, eyes covered, Dom ate from Adrian’s fork, and his mind and body exploded with each bite. The pie, bourbon chocolate pecan, was the best he’d ever had of that flavor, but the experience of eating it turned his head inside out and melted his bones.
He was so damn hard again by the end, it wasn’t at all fair. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Adrian kissed him before removing the blindfold and unlatching the cuffs from each other. “Strangely, that doesn’t sound like a complaint.”
“It’s not,” Dom said. He rotated one of the cuffs. “I’m gonna guess you don’t get off on being tied up.”
“No, I don’t.” Adrian’s lips quirked. “Opposite, in fact.”
Yeah, he figured. “How about being fucked by someone wearing your cuffs?”
That hit—and hard. Adrian’s breath caught and he shivered. “Yes.” His answer was full of rumble and gravel. “That would get me off nicely.”
Dom smiled, stole a kiss from that shocked face, dragged Adrian upstairs and did just that, making it last as long as he possibly could.
Sunday, they cleaned the kitchen, went out for bagels and coffee, and spent the rest of the time in Adrian’s library, reading one another interesting snippets of texts until they succumbed to each other.
“I’ve never made love to anyone up here,” Adrian murmured, his mouth skimming over Dom’s now naked back.
“There’s always a first time.”
That earned him a laugh. Adrian also laid Dom out on the daybed in the reading nook and took his sweet time making them both come.
Sex and books. Dom could get used to that. So fast. So much.
But when evening ticked around, they both knew what was coming—the end of the weekend and a return to their own lives. This time, they ordered pizza, drank it with wine, and watched episodes ofWhite Collaron Netflix until the sunlight slipped away into the night. Dom’s heart dropped. “I should go home,” he whispered.
Adrian chuckled and kissed his brow, then his mouth. “Probably. I have work in the morning, and I am not twenty-seven.”
“Thirty-six.”
