Page 33 of Into the Tempest

I stopped. “Tully?”

“I need more,” he said. “Not your fingers. I need your cock inside me. I need you to fuck me, Jeremiah. No games tonight. I’m serious.”

“Tully, I—”

He reached up, blindly grabbed at my face, my neck, and pulled me up to meet him. His legs wrapped around my waist. “What part of ‘I need you to fuck me’ didn’t you understand?” He crushed his mouth to mine for a bruising kiss and rocked his hips up, searching for what he wanted.

What he needed.

With my tongue in his mouth, I lifted his left leg up, my cock sliding against his hole, and he whined. “Do it, just... please.”

It would have been so easy to push inside him.

Condom...

Condom.

Jesus.

Panting, I pulled back and went to my knees. I put that condom on so damn fast I almost injured myself, and when an impatient, frustrated Tully realised what I was doing, he laughed...

Until I lifted his legs up to his chest and sank my cock inside him.

His eyes wide, he gasped out a cry and groaned on the exhale. He tried to arch his back but I pinned him with my hips and sank all the way in, sinking my tongue into his mouth at the same time.

He dug his fingernails into me, clawing at my back... until he fully surrendered. Then he pulled me closer and we found a rhythm, slow, long, and deep. He held my face, his eyes imploring, the colour of burned honey and forever.

“Jeremiah,” he whispered before sucking on my bottom lip.

This was different than before. All the times we’d done this had been amazing, but this... this was more.

My heart was in this. Beating in time with his, joined in the most intimate of ways.

I thrust in deep, his body a glove of warmth taking me all the way in. I tried to get my arms underneath him so I could get closer, impossibly closer. He wrapped his arms around me as if he understood.

As if he felt it too.

This shift between us.

Closer, something unspoken exchanged between us. In his eyes, in the way he held me, the way he took me. I never wanted it to end. I never wanted this feeling to stop, as a storm we couldn’t see raged outside. Here, in his bed, in his arms, this was euphoria, this was ecstasy.

This was making love.

I crushed my mouth to his, our tongues tangled, and when I tasted his tears, I pulled back. His eyes were wet and glassy. I cupped his face, my forehead to his, and I stopped thrusting, holding as still as I could. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quickly. “Please don’t stop. God, Jeremiah, please.”

I pulled out to the tip and pushed all the way back in, and he groaned my name, over and over. His eyes rolled back in his head, he pushed his head back, his neck corded, and his whole body went rigid in my arms. His cock, untouched and swollen, jerked and he cried out as his warmth spilled between us.

When his arms fell away and all resistance was gone, he gave me his body. I drove into him again and again, as deep as I could, until I couldn’t hold back anymore. I came so hard, with my whole body, with my whole heart.

And when I came back to my senses, when the room stopped spinning, he was tracing circles on my back, kissing my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder.

I pulled out of him but rolled us onto our sides, quickly wrapping him up in my arms. “Are you okay?”

He nodded into the crook of my neck. “Was intense, that’s all.”

I lifted his chin and kissed him softly. “It was. Glad you felt the same.”

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