Page 46 of State of Mind

Wilder closed his eyes. He wanted Luca too, with a power he hadn’t expected, but there was something a little ugly and anxious simmering—faint in the background and unkind. “It’s been so long.”

“I know,” Luca murmured, nipping at his ear. “I know. I’m not asking for more than this right here. I just want you to know how I feel, okay? You’re gorgeous, and you’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. And I want you.”

Wilder wasn’t ready to let it end here. He pulled back, releasing his hold on Luca’s hair, and let his hand trail to his chest. He could feel the wild thrumming of his heart against his palm, and he closed his eyes because Luca’s all-encompassing stare was dangerous.

“Bedroom.”

“Are you sure?”

Wilder licked his lips, nodded, but didn’t look up. “I’m sure. Not for…everything. But for something. I need to feel you, need you to touch me.”

Wilder half expected for Luca to drag him back, to bring their simmering passion to a boil, but instead, he rose, then took Wilder’s hand and placed a wet, openmouthed kiss to the center of his palm. He didn’t say anything, but Wilder heard his own muted breath as it stuttered a gasp from deep in his lungs.

He was grateful his room was only steps away and that it was already lit from his bright lamp on the desk. He’d tidied, though the bed was still a mess, but Luca didn’t seem to mind it as he eyed the comforter, then dragged Wilder over and eased him onto his back.

“What can I do for you?” he asked softly.

Wilder reached up and brushed fingers over his lips, feeling the soft puff of air as he exhaled, and then the gentle lick of a tongue as he nipped at Wilder’s warm skin. “I don’t actually know. It’s been so long—and sometimes things don’t make sense.”

“Until they do?” Luca offered. He nosed along Wilder’s jaw, then gently kissed under his ear. “I get it. I just want you to feel good. Wherever that takes us is enough for me.”

It seemed too good to be true, but Wilder lost himself to sensation quick enough that he didn’t think about it. He just let himself experience it—just let himself unburden under the weight of Luca’s body and the press of his lips, half open as his tongue tasted exposed skin.

Wilder wasn’t sure when they’d started to lose clothes, but when he felt Luca’s bare chest touch his, he felt a moment of crushing panic. Luca’s fingers were exploring him with gentle, nonsense patterns, then he brushed a scar, which made Wilder freeze.

Luca was in tuned enough to notice, to feel it, and he wrenched his hand back. “Here?” he asked, touching the side of Wilder’s nipple.

A few inches off was his biggest scar—the stab wound that would have killed him if it had been on his left side. As it was, it had grazed his lung, and it had taken the most stitches. In the weeks after his injury, Wilder had felt that one the most. “Just don’t ask me about it right now?”

Luca’s brow furrowed until he realized what Wilder was talking about. “That’s…of course I’m not going to. We don’t ever need to talk about it.”

There was sincerity in his tone—at least, that’s what he thought it was. But it was so hard to tell, because Wilder had never let anyone this close. Frustration welled up in him, and his throat went tight, because for just fucking once he wanted to feel normal. He wanted to lay here and feel good and let this gorgeous man make him come without the weight of his ex and his trauma holding him by the throat.

“Will you touch me?”

Luca hesitated, and Wilder knew that some of what he was feeling was showing in his eyes. “Why don’t you touch me. Show me what you want—what you like.”

It wasn’t really a request, even though it was worded like one, and Wilder wanted to yell and hit something because he didn’t always want to be in control, even when it was probably necessary.

It won’t always be like this, a voice whispered, sounding suspiciously like his third and best therapist. He hadn’t seen her since he’d been back with his parents, and he hadn’t stayed with her long, but she’d been the one to get through to him most.

And she would tell him to have this—to compromise first and work on the rest later.

Trust didn’t come naturally or quickly to him anymore, no matter how good a person seemed or how safe a situation appeared. And Luca was giving him the power to earn that trust, and he needed to stop being angry about it.

Leaning up, Wilder gripped him by the back of the head and kissed him. “Roll over.”

And he did, easily, like he was made to follow commands. He spread out in his socks and boxers, and he looked ridiculous with the contrast of his dark hair and the white cloth—and Wilder wanted to lick every inch of him. He wasn’t ready for that, either, but he was ready for something. He straddled Luca, then dragged hands down his chest before he cupped one around the bulging hardness straining at the silky fabric.

“I’m almost curious how much these boxers cost you.”

“I wish I could remember,” Luca answered, breathy, more a movement of lips than sound. “It was a lot.”

“I bet.” Wilder shifted up, letting his own clothed dick rub against Luca’s. The pressure was enough, but the friction was lacking—however, he needed that barrier for now. He thrust, and Luca’s hips arched, and Wilder could feel it under his hands that his lover was seconds away from falling apart. “God, you’re so responsive.”

“I’m not usually,” Luca admitted. He pushed up onto his elbows then looked down at where they were joined yet separated, and he licked his lips. “That’s…weirdly erotic.”

“Me fucking you through your clothes?” Wilder thrust again, his dick even harder now. He was so sensitive, his own cotton boxers were threatening to chafe, but he couldn’t stop moving. He’d found a rhythm, felt something warm and hot rising in his belly, tugging at his balls. “Does it hurt? Your injury…”

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