Chapter 32 Inside #2
“You left me in a goddamned hotel room without saying goodbye! After you…Jesus, Gem. You know how badly that night fucked me up?”
“You fucked me up too,” he says, the quiet words like harpoons to my heart.
“Don’t you dare blame that shit on me. I didn’t ask you to jerk off in front of me.”
“Fuck. I know. I’m sorry. Again.” Uncoiling, he takes a half step toward me, then sags against the tree when I recoil. “If it’s any consolation, that was the beginning of the end for me. I couldn’t get you out of my head after that, and everything else went to shit.”
“A consolation? What the fuck does that mean? It’s supposed to make me feel better that you were so afraid of being attracted to me that you kamikazed your whole life because we got off in the same room?”
“I didn’t know how to handle it, okay?” he cries. “Everyone always told me love was supposed to make you want to be a better person. How was I supposed to recognize it when every impulse was telling me I’d only let you down?”
Chests heaving, we stare at each other across the wasteland of a once-sacred site.
Love, love, love.
Would we know it if it didn’t hurt?
How do we transform it into a healing thing when all it’s ever done for either of us is further rend our broken pieces?
I’m not sure which one of us moves first, only that in the next moment, we’re colliding in a crush of lips and teeth and rabid, groping hands.
I bite his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper, and he sucks my tainted tongue into his mouth with a moan.
His fingers scrabble at my collarbone, then the buttons of my shirt, until he grows impatient and tears the fabric open to rake his nails down my chest.
Hissing, I draw back, but only enough to yank his own tee over his head. Then I’m sinking my hands down the back of his jeans, squeezing and spreading his ass while I grind him against my erection.
“You make me crazy,” I tell him.
“You make me sane.” Tugging my head back, he drags his teeth down over my Adam’s apple to suck at the hollow of my throat.
Goosebumps erupt over my flesh as he nips my collarbone, and I dance my fingers into his crease, seeking his heat. When I circle his rim, he pushes back into the sensation with a groan.
“Fuck me, Rocket,” he demands, popping the button on my jeans and shoving his hand in to press the heel of his palm against my eager cock. “Give me all your crazy.”
“Here?” I ask, the word ending on a groan when his fingers close and he gives me a rough stroke.
“Now. I don’t give a fuck about where.” Releasing my cock, he steps out of my arms to unbutton his own pants.
“We—It’s our first time. We need lube and…” A bed? Do we need a bed? He fishes in his pocket before shoving his jeans down over his hips, and my brain stutters as his cock pops free.
“Lube.” Grabbing my wrist, he slaps something into my palm. “They were giving these out at the clinic.” Then he shimmies the rest of the way out of his clothes while I turn the packet over in my hand. “It goes on your dick,” he informs me with a smirk.
“You’re a dick,” I tease, but my heart is a thundering surf, crashing against my ribs.
“C’mere.” When he slinks up to me, I catch his throat in one hand and tilt his head up with a thumb under his jaw.
“You’re the boss today,” I tell him, trailing the plastic edge of the travel lube down his chest. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done? ”
“I guess I am technically the more experienced one.” He grins in my grip. “You nervous, Rocket?”
Yes. And no.
“Oh yeah?” I drag my nose along his jaw. “Had a lot of dicks up your ass, have you?”
“As many as you,” he snarks, but the hitch of his breath betrays him.
“You haven’t seen my dildo collection.”
“Shit.” He shivers in my grip. “We should remedy that.”
I drop my mouth to his, flicking my tongue out to coax his lips apart. I can’t get enough of the taste of him, sweet and sinful and so long sought. He kisses with dizzying skill, drawing all the blood to the surface of my skin with every sweep of his talented tongue.
Plucking the lube from my fingers, he tears it open without breaking the kiss and squeezes some onto his hand. Instead of coating my cock, however, he reaches behind himself, and I moan into his mouth.
“I wanted to do that,” I say, reaching around to find him already two fingers deep in his own ass.
Relinquishing his throat, I shove two of my fingers into his mouth and swirl them around, gathering his saliva.
When I press on the back of his tongue, he chokes, then whimpers deliciously as I pull free.
Wrapping one arm around his waist, I back him toward the tree and find his greedy hole with my spit-slick digits.
“Yes,” he gasps when I slide my middle finger between his two, forcing them apart to make room for me to slip into his heat. “Ohmyfuckinggod.”
Together, we work him open, until his back hits the trunk of the tree and his arms fly up to circle my neck. Our mouths collide again as I hike his leg over my hip and free my leaking cock.
“I need the lube,” I say, stroking myself and trying not to rut against his nakedness.
“Shit.” A slightly manic laugh bursts from his lips. “I dropped it. But here,” he snakes a hand between us and smears it over my crown. “I squeezed most of it out in my excitement.”
The admission does something drastic to the frantic organ in my chest.
He’s as affected as I am.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I love him, but I curb the impulse. Even though he knows. Even though it’s never been a secret. But I don’t want him to feel obligated to say it back, and I don’t think I can continue with this moment if he doesn’t.
So instead, I tighten the arm around his waist and lift him up, bracing his back against the tree.
He brings his other leg up around my hips and crosses his ankles, hooking his heels into the swell of my ass.
Gripping my cock by the base, I drag it down the underside of his erection, over his tight balls, and along his taint, before slotting it against his entrance.
“Don’t,” he says when I hesitate, searching his face. “I swear to god, Rocket, if you treat me like I’m fucking broken right now, I’ll flip you around and fuck you instead.”
His eyes are blown to depthless oceans and lit with challenge, and my thighs are starting to burn from holding myself back.
I punch through the first ring of muscle.
“Ungh.” He makes the sexiest fucking noise I’ve ever heard. “Fuck.”
“Fuck,” I groan at the same time, and our gazes lock.
“More,” he pants. “All of it. Please.”
With a surge of my hips, I give him everything, and the world explodes in a flurry of white wings. For an eternal moment, we both simply breathe.
“Rocket,” he whispers, voice vibrant with awe. “You’re inside me.”
I’m inside him.
He shifts his hips, sending fireworks over my skin.
“Don’t,” I gasp. “Shit. Talk about baseball or something.”
“I don’t know anything about baseball.” His breathless chuckle only makes it worse.
I have not waited eleven years to lose it in the first twenty seconds.
His ass is squeezing my cock so tightly I couldn’t move if I wanted to, and a strangled whimper escapes me. I start to pull back, to reach between us and squeeze the base of my dick, but he clamps his thighs around me and tightens his grip in my hair.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
“This isn’t me being gentle. This is me trying not to end this before it begins.”
“You’ll be fine. Take a minute.” He peppers my jaw with soft, sucking kisses. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Fuck.” I drop my forehead to his. “Okay.”
“Look at me.” He shifts again, minutely, and I groan over his lips, but I open my eyes. He’s everywhere. So much blue. His body tugs at me like gravity. He’s the edge of the world, and I’m falling free.
“Kiss me,” he pleads. “It’ll help.”
Oh god.
But the tide recedes—enough that I suck in an ardent breath made of his wicked tongue and darkling smile—and my limbs regain the barest semblance of sentience.
Here is the smooth jut of his hip under my palm.
Here is the slide of his thigh, sweat-slick along my ribs.
And here is the impossibly tight heat of him clamped around my cock.
I’m having sex with Gemiah Farrel.