Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Liam
The thing about sex with Sam?
It felt like something we had been building toward for years without realizing it. Like we had already learned each other’s bodies in some past life, some alternate universe where this wasn’t new, where we had always been like this.
Because the moment his lips met mine again inside the tent, the moment our hands roamed, exploring, learning, it was effortless.
And fuck, it was hot.
Sam had always been broad, strong, solid. But now, beneath my hands, he felt like mine.
Now, without an audience, without lights cutting through the dark or music pounding in our ears, it felt different. Quieter. Truer.
This wasn’t spectacle or adrenaline or heat borrowed from a crowd. This was just us, breath and skin and the small sounds we made when no one else was watching.
And it felt right.
It felt like more.
I slid my hands up his chest, tracing the lines of muscle, the soft dusting of hair trailing down his stomach, feeling his nipple harden as my finger brushed across it.
He was warm under my palms, his skin feverish where it met mine.
His tongue curled into my mouth, exploring, testing, and then he pulled away just enough to press his forehead to mine.
“You sure?” His voice was low, rough with desire.
I nodded, breathless.
Sam smiled. One of those slow, lazy things that made my stomach tighten. Then his hands were on my waist, his fingers trailing down my back, gripping my ass firmly.
His mouth was on my neck, then my chest, then lower.
His hands pushed my shorts over my hips and down my legs as he sat on the air mattress. I exhaled as he pressed kisses down my stomach, his stubble scratching lightly against my skin in the best way. I could feel the heat of his breath ghosting lower, could feel his hands spreading my thighs apart.
And then I gasped, my back arching slightly as he took me into his mouth, his lips circling around the head of my penis, tongue swirling, teasing.
“Fuck,” my hands slid into his hair.
The way Sam used his mouth was something else.
The way he took his time, sucking me down deep before pulling back to drag his tongue along the underside of my shaft. He knew exactly what he was doing.
And fuck if I wasn’t already losing my mind.
I gripped his hair, my thighs tensing as he worked me over with slow, deliberate strokes, his tongue pressing into the sensitive ridge beneath the head, pulling moan after moan from my lips.
But I wasn’t about to be the only one falling apart.
I tugged him up by his hair, crashing my mouth to his as I pushed him onto the air mattress, positioning myself over him. I looked at him and said, “My turn.”
I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he lifted his arms without hesitation, letting me peel it over his head. The soft brush of fabric over his skin, the faint rustle of nylon, the air mattress creaking beneath us was all louder in the stillness of the tent, like the world had quieted just for us.
The air was cool, but his skin was warm beneath my palms. Familiar and new at the same time.
Sam let out a breathy chuckle as I kissed my way down his chest, running my hands over his stomach, the soft trail of hair leading me lower. The sound sent a rush of warmth through me. Surprise, delight, and disbelief that this was happening.
I leaned back just enough to fumble with the drawstring of his shorts. “These off?” I murmured.
Sam gave a shaky laugh, nodding. “Yeah.”
I tried to make it smooth, graceful, but tents weren’t made for this. The air mattress squeaked with every shift, one of the pillows slid sideways, and for a second I nearly toppled backward, catching myself just in time on one elbow.
We both laughed then, breathless, a little nervous.
“Super sexy,” Sam purred.
“Oh yeah,” I laughed, finally getting the shorts and briefs down, baring him fully to me. “Nothing hotter than fighting for your life against a tent.”
But then I looked at him, really looked, and the flirting faded into something quieter, heavier.
I took him into my hand first, stroking slowly, relishing the weight of him, the thick length of his shaft pressing hot against my palm. His hips shifted, breath catching. The mattress gave a little wheeze beneath us, like it, too, was caught up in the moment.
Outside, the woods murmured. Crickets. Wind. Fire crackling in the distance. But inside the tent, just us.
Just heat and skin and history.
I leaned down, pressing a kiss low on his stomach, then looked up to find him staring into me. Eyes wide. Lips parted. That openness, that trust, undid something in me.
Then I leaned down and ran my tongue along the underside, tracing the vein before sucking the head between my lips.
I savored him for a moment, the taste of him sharp and clean on my tongue.
Then I swirled it around the ridge, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves just beneath.
A low moan vibrated in his chest. I pulled back slightly, just enough to use my fingers to gently draw back the soft, hooded skin of his foreskin, exposing the slick, flushed head completely.
The sight of it, the sheer intimacy of the act, made my own cock ache.
I leaned in and lapped at the newly revealed glans, my tongue flat and wet.
Sam’s breath hitched, his fingers threading through my hair.
“Liam,” he groaned.
I hummed around him, taking him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I sucked.
I felt his thighs tense beneath my hands, his grip in my hair tightening just slightly as he tried to keep control.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re gonna make me—”
I pulled off with a pop, licking my lips.
“Not yet,” I murmured against his thigh.
Sam let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “Tease.”
“Only a little.”
I took a moment to just look, my face so close I could feel the heat radiating from him.
I was fascinated by his beautiful uncut cock, by the weight and heat of him in my hand, by how responsive he was to every touch.
I gently used my thumb to push back the foreskin, revealing the full, flushed head completely.
It was perfect. The smell of him was clean and intensely masculine, a musky, salty smell that went straight to my own prick.
I leaned in again, this time tracing the rim of the head with the very tip of my tongue, tasting the slight saltiness of his pre-cum.
The skin was so soft, velvety, but the hardness beneath was undeniable.
I took him back into my mouth, deeper this time, reveling in the weight of him on my tongue and the way he filled my throat.
I could feel his pulse, a frantic, desperate beat against my lips.
His hips began to move in shallow thrusts, a silent plea for more, and I knew I had him right where I wanted him.
I turned my attention to his heavy balls, cupping them gently in my palm, feeling their weight, the heat of him against my skin.
I rolled them between my fingers, squeezing just enough to draw a quick inhale from him.
His thighs tensed beneath my touch, a low groan escaping his lips as I dragged my tongue along the sensitive skin, tracing slow circles.
I could feel him twitch against my cheek, could hear the way his breath caught, the way his hands fisted in the sheets, bracing for more. His expression darkened as his hands gripped my waist and flipped us again, pressing me down onto my back.
His mouth was on mine before I could react, his kiss slow, deep, intoxicating.
Then he was moving lower, pressing kisses along my stomach, my hip bones.
He lingered there, his stubble scraping my sensitive skin in a way that made me gasp. His hands, which had been gripping my waist, slid down to my hips, his thumbs stroking the hollows there.
He nudged my legs apart with his knee, settling between them.
I was completely exposed, my dick hard against my belly, and I watched him through heavy-lidded eyes as he surveyed me.
A slow smile spread across his face. He leaned down, but instead of taking me in his mouth, he pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, so close to my balls I could feel the warmth of his breath.
Then he did the same on the other side. It was a slow torture that had me arching my back.
"Turn over," he murmured, his voice a low command. It wasn't a question. My heart hammered against my ribs as I complied, rolling onto my stomach. I felt the mattress dip as he shifted, and then his hands were on my ass, kneading the flesh before he spread me open.
My breath stuttered.
I wasn’t expecting that.
But the first swipe of his tongue over my hole sent a shudder through me.
“Holy fuck.”
Sam chuckled against me, then did it again.
My hips twitched.
And then he was devouring me.
His tongue pressed inside, hot and wet and fucking perfect, his hands gripping my ass as he pulled me closer, eating me out like he was starving for it.
I moaned, my fingers digging into the bed beneath me.
Then he was using his fingers. One first, slow, slicked with spit.
“You take it so well,” Sam murmured. “Where’s your lube?” He pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh as he curled his finger just right.
I gasped, my body tensing at the sensation, heat sparking up my spine.
I rolled to grab the lube and a condom beside the air mattress.
I wanted more.
Sam lubed up his fingers and the outside of my hole. Then two fingers slipped in slow, stretching me, working me open.
“Sam,” I panted.
He kissed up my stomach, my chest, nipping at my bottom lip. “Be patient.”
I groaned, rolling my hips against his fingers. “I’m not known for patience.”
Sam laughed. “Noted.”
He continued working me. Loosening me up. His fingers kept pressing against my prostate, driving me wild.
Sam said, “You like that?”
I couldn’t say anything, but a whimper escaped my mouth and he knew the answer.
“I’d like to fuck you, Liam.”
“I want you to fuck me, Sam. Please.”
Then he was rolling on a condom, slicking himself up with lube,
He said, “You should start on top. That way you can control how much you take.”
I climbed onto his hips, lifted up on my knees to position him at my hungry hole..
“Tell me if—”
“I want it,” I interrupted, gripping his wrist. “I want you.”
His expression shifted.
And then I sat down on him. Slow, steady, stretching me open as I gasped at the burn, the fullness.
“Jesus,” I choked out, gripping his biceps as I rested all the way down on him. Feeling his trimmed bush tickling me. I breathed deeply for a minute before continuing on..
He was big. Thick. Filling me up in a way that made my head spin.
He groaned, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. “Fuck, Liam.”
I adjusted, rolling my hips. Then I was moving.
Riding him, taking him deeper, hands braced on his chest as I set the pace, rolling my hips, rocking against him.
Sam moaned beneath me, gripping my waist, guiding me.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned.
I leaned down, pressing my forehead to his as I moved faster, my dick brushing against his stomach, the friction making bliss coil hot and tight in my stomach.
I needed more.
I climbed off him, turning onto my stomach, arching my back.
Sam understood immediately.
He pulled me up onto my knees, pressed a kiss to my shoulder, and then he pounded into me.
I cried out, gripping the pillow as he fucked me harder, deeper, his breath ragged, his fingers digging into my hips.
I knew anyone walking by could hear.
I didn’t care.
All I cared about was the way he felt.
The way he was wrecking me.
His thrusts grew harder, faster, and then he groaned, “Close.”
I turned my head slightly. “Come inside me.”
He shuddered, cursing under his breath, and then I felt it.
His cock pulsing as he came, the condom filling with his release.
His hips stilled, his breath ragged.
But he was still hard.
And I still needed more.
I pushed him onto his back, straddling him again, sinking back onto him.
His eyes were blown wide, his hands gripping my thighs as I rode him again, chasing my own orgasm.
It didn’t take long.
I moaned, my body tightening, as I came. Spilling over his chest, his stomach, the sight of him beneath me, wrecked, fucked-out, and tipping me over the edge.
I collapsed beside him, both of us breathless, sweaty, spent.
Sam ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “Jesus Christ.”
I grinned lazily, chest still heaving. “I have never been fucked like that before.”
Sam laughed, rolling onto his side.
We laid there for a few minutes just breathing. Fingers lightly going over our bodies. Then he started to sit up.
I caught his wrist.
“Stay.”
He looked at me, surprised. Hell, I’d surprised myself.
I wasn’t one for cuddling. Never had been. Hookups were fun, uncomplicated, something to enjoy and move on from. No strings. No lingering. No warm bodies tangled up in the sheets afterward.
But this?
This was different.
Sam hesitated, his brows drawing together like he was trying to figure me out, like maybe I was some new equation he hadn’t cracked yet.
I could see the debate happening behind his eyes, the war between what he thought he knew about me and whatever this was, this thing between us that neither of us had been ready to name.
And then, finally he nodded. “Okay.”
Relief, quiet and unexpected, loosened something in my chest.
I pulled him close, letting my body mold to his, feeling the solid warmth of him against me. His skin was hot from exertion, slick with sweat, but I didn’t care. I let my fingers trace absent patterns along his back, let myself breathe him in. Soap, salt, something unmistakably Sam.
For the first time, I held him.
And for the first time, I wanted to.