Page 77 of Touch in the Night

Jesse turned to look at him. Emory’s cheeks were flushed. His pupils were dilated. He was so beautiful that Jesse could hardly breathe. But he made sure to hold the penetrating gaze and nodded a third time.

“I promise.”

Emory’s mouth turned up at the corners. He pressed his lips to Jesse’s, then dusted kisses over his cheek and down to his throat. He clenched Jesse’s hip hard and pushed forward.

Jesse’s entire world spun away into a glittering veil of sensation. Emory was huge. He moved slowly, stretching Jesse inch by agonizing inch, expanding him to the point of pain. Needles of quicksilver flashed up Jesse’s spine and down his legs. The burn was so delicious that he wanted to pant and yell. But he gripped the sofa and choked the noises down.

It felt like it took an eternity, but finally, Emory was fully sheathed. His chest swelled against Jesse’s back with each breath. The exhalations poured over Jesse’s skin like heated spring water.

Emory held himself there, so big and so deep inside Jesse that he wasn’t sure he’d ever walk again but didn’t care. The powerful muscles in Emory’s legs were bunched, and the hard abdomen quivered against the small of Jesse’s back. They were so close and complete it was like they were one and the same. Ripples of flame, hotter than those in the hearth, licked through Jesse’s body. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

Then Emory was sliding back, a couple of slick, teasing inches, then slamming home again.

Jesse couldn’t swallow the cry that billowed out of his throat. Emory, panting against his shoulder, squeezed his hip in warning then repeated the motion.

Jesse’s groan drowned somewhere in his chest. He crushed his eyes shut, fought breath into his lungs but then Emory was thrusting again…and again. He shifted, widening his stance, bending Jesse lower. He thrust in faster, deeper. Jesse hung his head, fighting to stay quiet, fighting the flesh-searing pleasure that boiled over him.

“God, Jesse,” Emory panted in his ear. “Tell me to stop…”

Jesse kept his mouth clenched shut. Emory tilted his hips higher. Jesse was lifted onto his toes. He gripped the sofa tighter. His knuckles ached. Emory grasped Jesse’s other hip, adjusted his stance, then banged into him, so hard and so deep that pleasure exploded through Jesse like a bomb. It blinded him, deafening him, filled him so completely that he couldn’t tell if he’d really come or if this was still just the best build up he’d ever had.

Time became unreal. He could feel the points of pain where Emory’s fingernails dug into his flesh. All this registered beyond the flickering shell of ecstasy that swelled to the point of unmanning him. Then, when he began to feel like he couldn’t possibly take any more, Emory groaned deep in his barrel-like chest, changed his angle and grasped Jesse’s cock.

Jesse came so hard he could no longer see, hear or think. All there was was the feeling—drowning, cartwheeling through a blinding inferno laced with sparks of pain that consumed him.

Chapter Twelve

Jesse was jerked awake from a very deep and dreamless sleep, unsure what had woken him. He didn’t remember coming to bed. His arse burned. Every muscle was aching. But he felt amazing. Even thinking about the night before was making him hard again. He turned over, cursing the empty bed next to him. But then the sound of his phone buzzing made him sit up.

That was when he caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was almost eleven.

He scrambled out of bed, reaching for whatever clothes first came to hand. His phone was still buzzing as he laced his trainers. There were four missed calls and increasingly furious messages from his brother.

He swore again, grabbed his coat and phone and raced from the room.

It was only as he was stumbling down the staircase that the noises that must have woken him penetrated. He moved into the hall and frowned to see the front door wide open. The house security staff raced in and out, yammering on walkie-talkies.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he called.

One of the men hurried over. “Where’s Greenway?”

“I dunno. What’s the drama?”

But the man shoved past him and made for the stairs. Jesse went to the front door with a sinking feeling.

Blue lights flashed at the gates. Jesse could make out at least two police cars blocking the road. The sound of raised voices reached him as another security man pushed past him to join the throng around the gate.

Every wonderful feeling that had filled Jesse upon waking swept away like fog on the wind.

“Jesse?”

Jesse turned. Tom was standing in the hall, a mug in his hand and a confused frown on his face. “What’s going on?”

Jesse couldn’t find words so just gestured outside. Tom came forward. His frown deepened as he took in the scene at the gate. “Shit. What’s happened?”

Jesse opened his mouth, still not sure what he was going to say, then a small, high voice from behind said, “Uncle Jesse?”

They both turned. Dimity stood at the top of the stairs in a pair of unicorn pajamas with Bella Bunny clutched in her arms. Her ringlets were sleep-rumpled, and her face was tight with fear.

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