Chapter 40 #2
“No,” I cut in, and I let my hand rub up his back slowly. “No, you’re not going to. You’re amazing, and tomorrow is going to show Vera that.”
He feels so tense and tight, even as he nods and at least pretends he hears what I’m saying. My hands find his hips, and he straightens up and lifts his eyes. I smile softly and lean in to kiss him, a brief touch at first.
He wants more; I can feel it as he presses himself up against me and opens his mouth and swipes his tongue along my lower lip.
He wants more, and I do too. But I want to take care of him tonight.
More than anything, I want to help him feel relaxed and comfortable and loved.
So I flex my fingers into his hips and push him back slightly, breaking the kiss.
He grumbles, but I shake my head and laugh lightly.
“Here, sit.” I guide him back to sit on the bed, and then I kneel in front of him and reach up to touch the sling holding his left arm. “Let me help you take this off?”
When he nods, I help him, slowly undoing the Velcro of the strap that goes around his neck and then lowering the sling itself.
He shrugs his shoulder with a grimace, as if testing out how it feels.
I know it’s not nearly as painful for him anymore—nothing like it was almost a month ago, when the injury first happened, or three weeks ago, when his asshole ex-stepfather attacked him at the library.
And thankfully, the injury has responded well to the conservative treatment his doctor and physical therapist recommended. But I’m still careful nonetheless.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Stiff, but I’m fine. Thank you . . .” He trails off, shaking his head like he wants to say something more. When he doesn’t, I settle my hands on his thighs, squeeze gently, and then let my fingers trace upward until I reach the waistband of his slacks.
“How about a quick shower, and then we can go to bed?” I suggest. “Unless you needed something to eat or anything first?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, the snacks on the plane were enough. Um . . . a shower sounds good, though.”
“It sounds really good, right?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, trying to be silly, and it’s enough to get me a semi-annoyed grin and a light shove.
“You’re just horny,” he says, and he rolls his eyes at me as I shift both of my hands back to his thighs to keep myself balanced. “Wasn’t last night enough for you? All that getting up close and personal with my ass? You seemed to enjoy yourself, if I recall.”
Blood rushes to my cock at the reminder. Last night . . . Fuck, last night was incredible—fingering him for the first time. Hearing him gasp and moan when I curled my fingers up and found that perfect spot. Then sucking him dry when he came.
“You seemed to enjoy yourself too,” I counter, lifting my eyes.
He’s smirking now, and he leans forward and runs his fingers up my arms. “I did. It was fucking amazing.”
My skin tingles where he’s touching me, and my heart’s hammering. I groan again, letting my hands inch back up to his waistband. He stops me, his hands covering mine.
“Hmm, you know,” he says, his fingers teasing along the backs of my hands and then up my forearms and back down again, “I am kinda tired. It’s late. And tomorrow’s a big day.”
I’m still new to all of this, but he sure seems like he’s deliberately taunting me. His touch is playful, and his eyes are shining. But the last thing I want is to read the situation incorrectly. So I quietly agree. “It is late, and tomorrow is important.”
I hold his gaze, trying to figure out exactly what he wants.
When his lips quirk up into a crooked, silly smile and his hands push mine down to the top of his thighs, I’m pretty sure I have my answer.
I let my fingers brush along the length of the bulge in his slacks, and he groans, his cock throbbing in its confinement.
“Well, if you’re too tired . . .” I trail off with a shrug and start to move my hand away, but he stops me, tightening his hands on mine. He pushes one hand inward more until I’m cupping his hard cock through his pants.
“Mm-hmm. Yeah. Too tired,” he mumbles, and then he groans and screws his eyes shut. “Jesus fuck,” he hisses, and with another groan, he adds, “I mean, oh, wow, yeah, I’m . . . just so tired.”
I laugh, glad I know exactly how he’s really feeling now, and then I bend down, because I just can’t stand not to, and nuzzle my face into his groin. “We should sleep, then,” I say, stroking his dick as I press my lips against him and inhale deeply. “So you can rest.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. God, holy . . . fuck,” he breathes, both of his hands now threading through my hair.
“Mmm, although, if you’re too tired”—I run my lips along his length, humming as I go—“maybe you need help getting ready for bed.”
His dick throbs against my lips, and he chokes out, “Yeah. Yeah, I might.”
I shift slightly, resume stroking him with my hand, and then press a kiss to his inner thigh, letting my other hand run up to tug lightly on his shirt. “I can do that. Undress you. Help you shower. Wash you. Thoroughly.”
At my last word, he moans, a low, rough sound that makes my cock pulse, and then he says, “Th-thoroughly, huh?”
“Yep. Gotta be clean.” I kiss his thigh again and tighten my grip on him through his pants. He mumbles another couple of curse words under his breath, and I chuckle against him. “How does that sound?”
He nods quickly, and I grin up at him, then start undressing him.
I move slowly and carefully, teasing him with every touch while also making sure I don’t hurt his shoulder.
His polo shirt comes off, followed by his belt, his shoes and socks, and his slacks.
My fingers trail all along his skin, up his calves, brushing the insides of his thighs.
By the time I’m inching under the bottom hem of his boxer briefs, he’s gone quiet, his eyes closed lightly and his breathing controlled and deep.
I pause and then lean down and kiss a slow path up his inner thigh, stopping in the same place as my fingers, just at the edge of his briefs. “I’ll go turn on the water?” I ask softly, my breath warm against his skin.
He lets out a sigh that sounds content and relaxed, and he nods. “Yeah.”
“Perfect.” I rub his leg gently as I stand up, and then I turn and head into the bathroom, grabbing my duffle bag on the way.
The bathroom is as impressive as the rest of our hotel room, though I’m much more interested in getting the shower going for my boyfriend than I am in admiring the size and elegance of the room.
I do, however, take a few seconds while I’m adjusting the water temperature to appreciate just how much space we’re going to have in the massive walk-in shower.
After I get the water turned on, I fish out the small bottle of lube I brought with us, just in case, and stick it on a shelf in the shower.
I undress myself down to my briefs, and I’m about to head back out to the bedroom when Nico’s hands smooth up along my back and then down around my waist. His lips brush my shoulder.
I groan. “I was just coming to get you.”
“Mmm, you were taking too long.”
I turn around, and he grins at me, then stretches up and captures my lips in a searing kiss. He doesn’t waste any time. Both of his hands slip down under my briefs to grip my ass, and he tows our hips together. I groan as I feel him—his cock hard and hot.
“God, Nico . . .” I mumble against his mouth. My own arousal is straining in my briefs now, and he rocks against me with a moan. His hands push downward, taking my briefs with them, and then he’s stroking my dick and exploring my mouth with his tongue.
It’s all fast and hot. Heat and desire and—god, my heart’s racing and my toes are curling.
I moan some other nonsense words as I tear my lips away from his, breathing hard. “I thought you were tired?” I rasp, trying desperately to hold myself together.
There’s a puff of warmth on my neck as he laughs lightly. “Maybe I’m not too tired.”
His hand pumps slowly up and down my cock, and his thumb brushes over the head, sending a jolt through me.
“Fuck,” I hiss, unable to stop the curse from slipping out. Some other pathetic sound leaves my lips as he repeats the motion with his thumb, and he laughs again.
“You like that?” His lips flutter kisses along my collarbone, the heat making my knees weak.
Rather than answer him, I let my hands shift to his hips and then hook my fingers under the waistband of his briefs. His hand slows on my dick, and he releases me as I inch his briefs down.
I lower my eyes to watch his cock spring free.
He’s rigid, his erection on full display before me, almost begging me to swallow him up.
With a groan, I kneel, sliding his briefs down all the way to his ankles.
He steps out as I grip the base of his shaft, and his hands settle on my shoulders, squeezing me insistently when I take his tip into my mouth.
It’s divine. Perfect. And I lap him up, teasing my tongue along his slit. The moan he lets out is positively obscene, and he follows it with another few choice curses as his body shudders.
I wanted to take my time with him, teasing him while we showered together, touching him everywhere, maybe fingering him again before making him come. But when his fingers run through my hair and he moans my name, I’m too eager to make him feel good now.
One hand on his thigh to steady myself and the other slowly moving down to cup his balls, I take him in all the way to the back of my throat.
My tongue plays along the underside of his cock, and I hold there for as long as I can stand it.
He’s writhing and moaning and panting my name by the time I slide my mouth up and then back down, and he groans as his hips buck forward, thrusting himself into my mouth.
Again, I hold there, the head of his cock at the back of my throat.
“A-Alex, Alex, fuck, that’s—” he whines, cutting himself off with another rough, raspy moan.
I can feel my own cock leaking, and I shift one hand to stroke myself as I move the other to his ass, gripping tightly.
I bob my head and work my tongue around him as I jerk myself, slowly building the pace to exactly what I know he wants.
And it’s not long until he’s got both hands on my shoulders again, and he’s tugging me up.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he pants. “Come up here. Please.”
I pop off of him, which elicits another groan, but then he’s tugging me up again. I release myself and wipe the spit off my mouth as I stand. His hand immediately takes mine, and he pulls me toward the shower.
“Nico, what are you—”
“Trust me,” he says, and he opens up the glass door, releasing a warm puff of steam, and pulls me in with him.
Before I know what’s happening, he pushes me up against the flat, warm tile, pressing his body against mine.
The water’s hitting his back, rivulets sluicing down his chest, and he grins, then leans in and kisses me, reaching out to the side at the same time.
His shaft rubs against mine, and I close my eyes as I slip my hand between us.
With a groan, he pulls back and shakes his head.
“Wait. Here.” He’s holding the bottle of lube, and he pops the top and then drizzles the liquid down between us. “There.”
He rocks his hips so his cock rubs against mine, slicking it up with lube, and I moan and tilt my head back against the wall.
“God, that’s perfect.” I reach between us again as he sets the lube back on the shelf and then positions himself just right. Sliding my hand down his cock first, I spread the slippery liquid over him. His breath catches, and I grin.
“Both of us,” he says, now breathless. “Take both of us.”
A wave of desire and want courses through me. I nod wordlessly, slip one hand up to cup his cheek, and tug him in for a needy kiss as I stretch my fingers around both of us and stroke slowly up our lengths.
He shudders and breaks the kiss almost immediately, dropping his head to my shoulder and steadying himself with a hand on the wall. “Why—why haven’t we done this before?” he asks. “Fuck. God, it’s . . . God, yeah, just like that.”
“Mm-hmm” is all I can manage, overcome by the tingling and buzzing and the intense, unrivaled coiling of pleasure deep in my groin.
I bury my face in his hair, which is now slightly damp from the shower, and I continue stroking us.
Both of us. Together. Slowly at first. Then a little faster, my fist tightening at the top, my thumb moving to brush over the head of his cock.
He moans and rocks his hips in time with each stroke, and then, just when I think I’m about to come undone, his body goes rigid and he clings to me, his wet hands gripping my hips. He muffles a cry into my chest, and his cock pulses, spilling his release over my fist.
It’s enough to push me that last bit. I screw my eyes shut, slip my free hand around his back to hold him closer, and follow him over the wonderful, wonderful edge, coming hard.
I keep stroking both of us until the very last throb of my orgasm.
Then I release us, slide my hand around his waist, and pull him flush against me.
We’re both breathing heavy, panting, and he lets out the neediest little whine as he leans against me for support.
“Jesus,” he huffs, still clinging to me.
I nod and nuzzle my face into his hair. “Why haven’t we done that before?” I ask, repeating his question.
He just shrugs. “Dunno. And now I am really tired. God, my legs feel like fucking Jell-O.”
I laugh lightly and rub his back. “Mmm, I’ve got you.” I press a kiss against the top of his head. He hums with contentment, and then he takes another deep breath and relaxes into me. I smile. “Here, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed, hm?”
“Mm-hmm, yeah,” he agrees, lazily nodding against my chest.
I absolutely love it.
One more kiss, this time to his forehead, and then I back him up a step so he’s under the water and let my hands slick up and down his body, rinsing away the evidence of our lovemaking.
He’s quiet as I continue, helping him wash his body and shampoo his hair, and the whole time, there’s this soft smile on his lips.
Like he’s really content.
Like he’s really, finally happy.