“More,” he begged, arching his back and tipping his hips up.
I needed lube, but that would have required tracking my pants down on the floor for my wallet. And no way I was stopping. Releasing him from my mouth, I glided my tongue down the underside of his cock, feeling it twitch in my hand as I reached his balls and then below. As he realized my final destination, he lifted a leg to the bed in a silent plea.
A guttural moan rumbled in his throat as I removed my finger and drove my tongue into the sensitive flesh.
“Oh, God, Evan,” he cried.
My erection was aching between my legs, needy for a taste of what my mouth was devouring.
“I want to fuck you so bad,” I mumbled, dropping my free hand to offer my throbbing cock a few strokes of relief.
“Then do it.” He moaned. “There’s a condom and lube in my bag.”
He did not have to tell me twice. I was on my feet, searching the front pocket of his bag, in a matter of seconds. However, I only carried the lube back to the bed.
“Have you been with anyone else since we first hooked up?” I asked, drizzling lube into my palm.
“No,” he replied with an adamant shake of his head.
I dropped my wet hand between his legs and circled his entrance. “Do you trust me?”
His hips rose off the bed and he impaled himself on my finger. “Completely.”
“No condom,” I declared, adding another finger to stretch him.
He licked his lips. “No condom,” he agreed breathily.
My cock jumped at the thought of taking him bare. I’d never been with a man without a barrier, and the idea of feeling Henry flesh on flesh was almost more than I could take. A growl tore from my throat as I snatched up the lube with my other hand and liberally poured it over my cock.
After discarding the bottle on the bed beside him, I continued to work his ass while I slicked myself. “Scoot back,” I ordered.
He quickly obeyed, moving up the bed until his feet were both flat on the mattress and his knees were bent.
I was forced to remove my fingers as I followed him forward, crawling onto the bed and then settling on my knees between his legs. His lust-filled eyes darkened as I teased my cock up and down his crack, and his body tensed as I poised myself at his entrance.
“Grip yourself,” I demanded, pressing in a fraction of an inch.
“Oh…fuck,” he gasped, throwing his head back, his face contorting in pure ecstasy. “Evan, please.”
I smiled to myself and pressed only the slightest bit deeper, but it was more than enough to make us both groan. As much as I was enjoying his reaction, I was equally torturing myself.
Dropping to an elbow by his head, I sank an inch deeper but still refused to move. “Give me your mouth.”
His parted lips instantly found mine, and I swallowed his whimper as I pressed in farther. Our tongues danced as pleasure coursed through me.
“Fuck me,” he pleaded into my mouth.
It was a sentiment I shared, but right then, I was basking in the overwhelming feelings of it all. It was better than anything I could have imagined, but that had nothing to do with being bare and everything to do with Henry.
I turned my head and whispered in his ear, “Do you feel that?”
He nodded, the stubble on his jaw scrubbing with mine.
Remembering his words from over a week earlier, I thrust forward, planting myself to the hilt. “This doesn’t make you gay, Henry.” I roughly bit the lobe of his ear. “It just makes you mine.”
His arms folded around my neck, and a loud moan hissed from his mouth. “Yours.”
Slowly withdrawing, I corrected him. “Evan.”
His muscles clenched around me as he confirmed, “Yours, Evan.”
No truer words had ever been spoken. I didn’t know what the future held for us, but no matter what happened from that moment on, Henry Alexander Gilchrist would always be mine.
For nearly a half hour, I worked him with my cock and my hands. By the end, we were both covered in sweat with our releases mingling in the ridges on his stomach.
We collapsed, sated, on the bed and then spent the next hour talking and laughing, curled into each other’s sides—the way it should have been.
Our first time together might not have gone the way I wanted, but I could live with the memories of that night and the searing pain that had followed if I was lucky enough to keep him.
It was suddenly clear that I’d been right when I’d met Henry. He was a storm of epic proportions. But maybe he was the only one capable of tearing my walls down.
And then to find that my broken pieces actually made him whole?
Well, that was nothing short of perfection.
My sore, sexed-out muscles protested as I awoke to the blaring of my phone on the nightstand. Henry’s naked body was draped across me, his even breaths tickling my chest. I did my best contortionist act to silence the noise without jostling him.
Once I got my phone, I saw my stepfather’s name blinking on the screen.