Page 34 of The Weight of Your Wishes

I want to be more like him.

So, I wrap my arm around him, laying my palm on his chest, and firmly tug him back into my arms. “Baby boy,” I rasp. I use my other hand to hold his chin, turning his face toward mine. His eyes widen when they meet mine, taken aback with what he finds there. “I don’t think we have any choice in the matter of our hearts.”

His breath hitches. “Kiss me,” he demands. “Just once, and that’s it. No more.”

I peer down at dim through heavy lids, taking in every inch of his face—the perfectly straight line of his nose, his heavy-set brows, the curve of his cheekbone running parallel to the slant of his jaw. He’s perfect to me. I could spend forever looking at this face; I know I could.

His eyes flit across mine as well, and I wonder what he sees there—what he sees inme. Rough skin from the sun, showing little marks here and there from age. Deep wrinkles between wild brows and around my eyes. Even my nose is slightly crooked.

He could have anyone he wanted—man or woman—and yet, it’s me that he claims has his heart.

I let my thumb stroke his plump lower lip, and his tongue flicks out to wet it. I lean down, and his eyes fall closed as our lips meet. Heat washes over me, and I want to pull him closer, but he’s already as close as he can be. I have this urge to cage him into me and never let go.

His lips move against mine. They feel impossibly soft, and a groan rips from my throat. His hands grip my forearm that’s bracing his front, fingers digging into my skin. I’m certain that no kiss has ever felt quite like this.

I want to tear into him—pull him by the hair and make him bare everything to me. With my grip on his chin, I nudge his mouth wider. His eyes are still squeezed shut as I glide my tongue from one side of his mouth to the other, licking every square inch. The needy, whimpering sound that extracts from him makes me want to devour him whole, so I thrust my tongue farther—as far as it will go.

We’re both on fire and panting against each other's lips as I pull back.

Something in me changes. It clicks into place as I press my forehead to his. He thinks I’ll break his heart, but I think it’ll be me who’s burned. Even if I dove into him, gave him everything despite what people may say, it couldn’t ever be enough to keep him.

I’ve never been enough.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

HENDRIX

This is far more than a crush. This is all-encompassing love.

I’ve heard of this feeling—the feeling that drives two people together against all odds. The kind of love that makes them think, without this, I might as well die. It’d hurt less.

Yeah, I’ve heard of it, but I thought it was dramatic.

Until now.

Until that kiss, if you could even call it that. Reducing it to that simple four-letter word, to a thing people use as a casual greeting with family and friends, isn’t right. Thatkissunlocked a cage around my heart, exposed it for him, and now I’m certain that it can’t be opened for anyone else again.

With his forehead pressed to mine, he lets his palm trail down my front until he reaches the hem of my shirt. When his rough hand grazes over the bare, sensitive skin just below my navel, I shudder. He burns a trail over my skin, brown eyes flitting down to my lips every time my breath hitches.

When his fingers breach my waistband, he speaks, voice barely a rasp, “Are you sure this is what you want, baby boy?”

His words are distant behind the roaring in my ears. “Areyou?”

He chuckles a bit, almost hysterically if he were capable of that. Then, with my back still to his front, he plunges his hand farther into my pants, through the light dusting of hair. He grabs a hold of the hard flesh there—tightly. It throbs in his palm, already about to explode from his possessive touch. My hips jut forward of their own accord, needing more.

I look down, my forehead dragging over his cheek, and what I see makes my breath start coming out in harsh pants. His massive hand is wrapped around my dick, hulking the space there, with just the flared head peeking through. I’ve imagined his hand as my own so many times—more than ever since I’ve been here in the same space as him—that it’s almost painful having to hold back. My eyes squeeze shut, nostrils flaring.

Finally, he begins to move, one long stroke from root to tip. My body damn near convulses. He picks up the pace, sliding up and down. Even the rough callouses on his palms feel like fucking heaven as they scratch across the sensitive skin, catching on the flared head. It brings whimpers from my throat that I’ve never even heard before. I can’t resist thrusting into his hand. Every time I pull back, I grind into his crotch behind me. He’s hard as a rock; I can feel his length digging into me over and over again. It’s maddening how badly I wish he could just pull my pants down and shove his fat cock inside of me.

It throws me over the edge—a garbled moan rips through me at the same time my climax does. My balls draw up impossibly tight, lightning zaps across my skin, and I erupt in his hand.

My brain swirls with storm clouds, fogging up all logical thought, as I grab his wrist and bring his hand to my mouth. I suck the salty liquid from the dip between his thumb and index finger. A low grunt vibrates through his chest that lets me know just how much he likes when I do that. It gives me a little more confidence, so I step out of his hold and turn to peer up at him. I trail my fingers around his bulging zipper with a satisfied smirk. The ridge of his brows casts shadows over his eyes, but I can tell they’re blazing. I grab his hand and lead him through the dark hallway into his room. He follows easily enough, but I can still sense apprehension. We can’t go back now though. I’m too far gone.

His room is nearly pitch black, the curtains blocking out the last dregs of light from the setting sun. The room is simple, all dark wood furniture and a giant king-sized bed. I pull my shirt off and push my pants to the floor. His fists ball tightly at his sides as I step closer to him. I reach out and undo the button on his jeans and begin working them down his thick ass and thighs. He’s sobig—everywhere. “What?” I ask, unable to ignore how tense he is. “I really want to taste you. Just this once…”

He shakes his head slightly, gazing down at me. “Taste me then.”

With all the reassurance I need, I climb up onto his bed, and he follows. When I turn around on my knees, he’s there behind me, thick cock jutting heavily between muscular thighs.

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