Chapter 23 #2
His eyes burn into mine, blue and dark with lust, like the whole world has narrowed to just this—to just me.
I bite my bottom lip, hesitating only for a second.
My hands tremble slightly as I reach for the top button of his shirt.
I’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but somehow this feels different.
My fingers fumble slightly on the buttons, and the whole time, he doesn’t look away. Not once.
It makes my skin heat up everywhere.
Finally, I finished the last one. Then push the fabric back off his broad shoulders. The shirt slides down his arms, and I swallow thickly as I take in the sight of him—fair skin over sharp muscle, the way his chest moves with his breath, the smooth cut of his abdomen.
He’s a wet dream.
So stupidly, painfully handsome that I forget to breathe for a second.
He lifts my chin with two fingers, in a gentle way, coaxing me to look into his eyes. Then he kisses me again, this time deep, slow, deliberate. Like he wants to memorize my mouth.
His hands roam across my bare chest, fingers brushing my nipples and sending a sharp jolt through me. I gasp into the kiss, my body arching involuntarily.
Then one hand slides lower, down to the waistband of my pants.
“I’m going to take off your trousers and whatever you’re wearing underneath them now,” he murmurs against my mouth. His voice is a low growl, almost reverent, like he’s giving me time to say no.
He waits.
But I don’t stop him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
My pulse hammers in my throat.
Without a word, he pushes away from me lightly as my legs untangle from his waist, then he undoes my belt with slow, practiced ease.
I feel like I’m vibrating from the inside out.
He pulls my trousers and boxer briefs down together, to my knees, then off completely, tugging away my shoes and tossing the rest aside.
And suddenly, I’m bare.
I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before. Not like this. Not with the lights still on and my heart this exposed. And not even when I was fifteen in that dimly lit room. I stop my thoughts there.
We buried that memory, Lucas, remember? Don’t think about it now. Please don’t.
I look down at myself, and I’m down to just socks.
It should be humiliating, but I don’t have time to feel that, because Alex is looking at me like I’m the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen.
My cock is hard, flushed, already slick at the tip. I should be embarrassed, I should be trying to hide myself, but then his hand closes around me—big, warm, careful, and a gasp rips out of me, my eyes squeezing shut.
“Look at me, Lucas.”
The command isn’t gentle. It isn’t even a request. It sinks deep, straight to my gut, and the burn that follows is sharp, sweet, and consuming.
I open my eyes.
He’s staring at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth breaking for. His gaze is so hungry it steals my breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, voice rough, almost reverent. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
His mouth claims mine again, hungrier this time, rougher, like words aren’t enough to hold him together.
His fingers ghost over my slick head, spreading my pre-come with slow, deliberate circles before sliding down my length.
One long stroke—tip to base, and back again.
My legs tremble around his waist, my body strung tight as if every nerve is tuned only to him.
I can’t hold back the sounds tearing out of me, his name falling from my lips over and over like I’m drunk on him.
He presses hot, wet kisses down my neck, my jaw, my shoulder, claiming me everywhere his lips can reach.
“I like it when you’re like this,” he murmurs, voice low, like a confession meant only for me.
My fingers tangle in his hair before I even realize I’ve reached for him.
He groans softly into my throat, and I feel myself melt.
My other hand slides down his chest, feeling the solid heat of him—alive, hard, real.
I lower it further until my fingertips brush over the front of his pants.
His hard length is unmistakable, straining against the fabric.
The sound he makes in response is raw, guttural, dragged from somewhere deep.
“Stop teasing me,” he breathes, desperate but commanding. “Unbutton the trousers, baby.”
The word—baby—sends a twist of heat through my stomach. I fumble with the button, my hands shaking, as I lower the zip with trembling fingers. Then I pause, my breath catching.
“Take my cock out,” he says. Quiet. Certain. A command that leaves no room to disobey.
I do it. My hands clumsy and awkward under his unrelenting gaze.
When I finally free him, my breath stutters.
He’s big, bigger than I expected. Thick, hot, heavy in my palm, my fingers barely able to wrap around him.
My eyes flick up, a blush blooming in my cheeks, but he only tilts his head, watching me with something dark, proud, possessive.
He steps in closer, guiding me until I’m perched on the edge of the table. Our hips press flush, heat blazing between us. Then his hand wraps around both of us—large, steady, sure.
The sound that leaves me is helpless. His fingers slide over us, stroking, pulling us together in a rhythm that’s maddening, obscene, perfect. Our pre-come mixes, and it makes everything slick, hot, and unbearable.
His mouth finds mine again, hungry and demanding as his hand strokes us both, his cock sliding against mine so perfectly it steals the breath from my lungs.
Stars burst behind my eyes. The sensation dizzying—skin on skin, heat against heat, slick friction that makes every nerve in me light up. The way he touches us feels dangerous, like he knows exactly how to unravel me and won’t stop until he does.
“Fuck… Alex—”
“Yes, baby?” he whispers, voice thick with want as his lips drag along my jaw. “You feel that? You see how good you feel against me?”
I nod helplessly, too lost for words. His hand moves in slow, deliberate strokes—steady, unrelenting, driving me higher with every drag of his thick cock against mine.
Both of us hard, leaking, straining, pumping together in his grip.
It’s so close, so intimate, I feel like I’m floating outside myself, like he’s pulling me apart piece by piece and holding me together all at once.
My hips betray me, thrusting up into his fist, chasing more of the friction only he can give.
“Just like that,” he murmurs, low and dark, every word dripping with hunger. “Take what you want, beautiful.”
The filth of his voice, the heat in his tone, it crashes through me like lightning. I look up at him, and he’s watching me, of course, he is. He always watches me. Always sees me.
My legs lock tighter around his waist, anchoring myself to him, and I bury my face against his neck, gasping his name, moaning without restraint.
“I’m not—” My voice breaks, fractured and desperate. “I’m not gonna last”
“Look at me, Lucas.”
His voice sharpens, commanding, slicing through my haze.
“Let me see you come apart for me.”
I force my eyes open, lashes fluttering, barely able to focus on him, and the second I meet his gaze, he smiles
“Good boy.” He breathes.
The praise melts through me, weakening me completely.
He kisses me then, hard and hot, tongue sliding against mine, teeth catching on lips.
His strokes grow faster, rougher, matching the frantic stutter of my hips.
My thighs tremble around him, my breath coming in ragged, broken gasps.
He groans into my mouth, needy and raw, as we rut against each other, slick and desperate.
“Come for me,” he growls, forehead pressed tight to mine. “I want to feel you fucking come in my hand.”
The command detonates inside me. My body seizes, hips jerking violently, and a strangled sound tears from my chest as heat bursts through me. My orgasm crashes over me in waves, cum spilling across my stomach, across his hand, messy and hot.
But Alex doesn’t stop. He strokes me through it, ruthless and tender all at once, wringing every last tremor out of me until I’m boneless, gasping, barely able to hold on.
His rhythm falters then, rougher, needier, his breath broken against my mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, voice strangled—and then he’s spilling, too. Hot and heavy, all over my skin, my cock, his hands.
I watch him through dazed eyes, every thought burning away except for him. The way his mouth parts on a groan, the sharp lines of his face undone with pleasure, the raw hunger in his expression. He looks devastating, too beautiful to be real.
For a moment, everything’s still. Just the sound of our breathing tangled together, the thrum of blood in my ears, the heavy pulse of satisfaction in my chest. My body feels sticky. My chest is heaving. I can still feel his hand on me even though he’s let go.
The room is quiet now, and the buzz of the house is somewhere far away. All I hear is the thump of my heart and the soft sound of Alex’s breath.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. I’m too embarrassed. My hands are trembling slightly where they rest on his shoulders, and I realize I’m gripping him like I’m afraid he’ll step away and leave me there—naked and messy on the edge of the table.
Then he moves. Not away, but closer.
“Hey,” he says gently, tilting my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. “Breathe, Lucas.”
I do. A shallow inhale that doesn’t feel like enough.
“I need to…” I trail off, unsure what I’m even saying. I look down at my naked body, stained with our cum and my spent cock. A flush crawls up my neck.
Alex catches my chin and tilts my face back up again. His eyes are soft, but something darker still simmers beneath them.
“Don’t go shy on me now,” he says, then gives me a light kiss. “Stay here.”
He steps back and walks across the room, unhurried, still shirtless, his back muscles a blessing to behold; his trousers are already zipped up and buttoned. He disappears into the attached bathroom, and I hear the sound of water running. After a while, he returns with the damp towel.
“Alex…” I start to say as he gets to me and starts cleaning me up.
He hushes me with a look. And I bit my lips, looking away. I let him clean me up, my stomach, my cock, my thighs. I don’t stare at him, I can’t. No one’s ever done this for me before. Not like I have been with anyone this gentle or intimate.
But still, I don’t think people who hook up get treated this way.
“You okay?” he asks, eyes searching mine, when he’s done
I nod. I don’t trust my voice.
He leans in and rests his forehead against mine.
“Are you hungry?”
I shake my head.
“Are you sleepy?”
This time around, I nod.
“Do you know I can’t talk to anyone apart from you?” I say quietly, burying my head in his chest, feeling sad suddenly, my chest tight.
“I can’t even talk to Tyler with my voice.”
“I know,” Alex mutters, running a hand through my hair.