“Someone’s getting turned on.”
“Of course I am.” I kiss his feverish, stubbled cheek. “My hands are on you.”
“Yeah. They are.” He tilts his head back and turns toward me, and our lips meet. Instantly, whatever I’m doing with my fingers becomes priority nothing. He reaches back, sliding his hand around the back of my neck.
His kiss is gentle but not the least bit hesitant. I can’t rub his back or shoulders in this position, so I wrap my arms around him, and he twists toward me. Parting his lips, he nudges mine apart, and when I slide the tip of my tongue under his, he shivers.
Michael gently grasps my wrist and guides my hand lower. He closes my hand around his cock, taking in a sharp breath as he does, and encourages me into a slow, steady stroking motion. As if I need any encouragement. His kiss, his body, his rejuvenated confidence—there’s nothing I won’t do for him right now.
His neck has got to be cramping, but he makes no move to change position. Sitting back like this, he can’t rock his hips, can’t thrust—all he can do is stay like that and let me do everything. Let me have absolute control. And still, he doesn’t try to rearrange a thing.
Michael breaks the kiss, and his head falls back against me. “Oh God. Don’t…” He whimpers and grabs onto my leg. “Don’t stop.”
I keep pumping his cock. He screws his eyes shut. His whole body tenses, and he holds his breath. His cock gets even thicker in my hand.
He’s so still, so tense.
Please, please, don’t panic. Let yourself go, Michael.
He holds his breath. Every muscle is like steel. He’s braced against me, digging his fingers into my leg, not moving, not breathing, as if he’s gone into suspended animation.
I’ve got you.
Slowly, he’s drawing in a breath.
I promise.
Tense. So tense.
Let go.
So fucking tense.
Michael, I’ve got—
And then he lets go.
Of his breath. Of my shoulder. Of all that tension.
Hot semen coats my hand and my wrist, and I keep stroking him as he gasps for air and he tries to thrust into my fist. Relief surges through me as if I’m the one who’s coming—yes! Yes, you made it! We can fucking do this.
Michael sighs and sags against me. “Holy shit.”
I hold him, kissing his neck and letting him enjoy the aftershocks for a moment.
“You’re awesome,” he slurs. “That was…”
I kiss beneath his jaw. “If you think I’m going to get impatient doing things like this, touching you and feeling you come, please allow me to liberate you of that notion.”
Michael laughs and turns to me. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, we just gaze at each other. Then he tilts his head back for a kiss.
Eventually, we separate. I grab some tissues off the nightstand, and once we’ve cleaned off the semen and some of the massage oil, we lie back on the pillows.
I prop myself up on my arm beside him. “How do you feel?”
“A lot better.” He reaches up and brushes a few strand of hair off my forehead. “About everything, oddly enough.” He pauses, then quickly adds, “But you’re probably right about taking things slower. So I don’t freak the fuck out.”
“You still might.” I stroke his cheek. “If you do, we’ll just do like we did tonight—step back, catch our breath and start again.”
He flinches. “I think…” He closes his eyes. “I know you’ll never get impatient with me, but part of me is still afraid you will.” Before I can get defensive, he meets my gaze. “It’s like in high school, when people would lose their virginity too soon because they were afraid they’d get dumped if they didn’t put out. We weren’t like that. We never were. But some irrational thing in my brain thinks we are now. Even though…” He sighs, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
“Probably more than you think. I mean, when we slept together years ago, all we were up against was inexperience.” I take his hand and kiss the backs of his fingers. “You’ve got a lot more to work through now. I’m sure there’s plenty of irrational crap that he put into your head, and we’ll just have to face it as we come to it.”
Michael searches my eyes. “I have no idea how much there is or how long it’ll take to work through.”
“Neither do I. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“But there’s also…” He chews his lip. “Look, you’re going out on a limb for me, Josh. Every night you’re with me takes away from time you could be with your husband.” His eyebrows pinch together. “I guess, in a way, I want to get through this faster to minimize the impact on your marriage.”
My lips part. “Michael, my God. I’m not in any—”
“I know. Up here”—he taps his temple—“I know. But it’s not rational. So this will probably come up again.”
“Then we’ll deal with it when it does. As for everything else, you’re calling the shots. Please, please, don’t push yourself too hard for my benefit.
Avoiding my eyes, he nods. “Okay. I’m sorry.”