Chapter Twenty-Five #2
It’s slow when it begins, careful, lips catching on hot panted breaths as our bodies move together.
He fits between every limb just so; his leg, as it hooks around my hip, seems to slot there like a puzzle piece, the sound of his breaths and the scent of his skin breathing life back into my heart and my soul.
His blueprint fits across every line I’ve drawn for myself so that it feels he was whispered into existence just for me.
For this. When he looks up into my eyes, it’s as though he can see everything there that I feel yet can’t say out loud, that I’m too afraid to utter.
I lean in and kiss his lips, cheek, and forehead as I thrust into his perfect, magical body.
“I knew it would feel like this,” he whispers to me with a small, intimate smile that kisses its way across my heart. Something urgent is building in me, and I have to slow to a complete stop, or this will be over far too soon.
“I just need a moment,” I laugh breathily.
He reaches up to stroke my cheek, tender and soft. “Take your time. Think you can handle me on top?”
“Um, I think we’ve proven that I can’t. You almost killed me last time.”
“Then let’s try this,” he says and begins to sit up.
I pull out and watch as he turns onto all fours, head at the headboard.
When he arches his back and spreads his cheeks, I wonder how on earth he thinks this is going to be any less devastating to my control.
His body is sinful from this angle. After coating his hand in some more lube, he edges himself back on his knees, reaching behind him to grab my cock and guide it toward his hole.
I slide in far easier this time, wet and slippery against the soft, willing heat of his body, before he sits up on his knees and begins to fuck himself on me.
He holds the headboard with one hand and twists his head to kiss me over his shoulder, and I’m able to sit back on my knees and enjoy the sight and the feel of him.
“You’re incredible at this…” I murmur between kisses.
“Yeah?” He grins, cheeks apple red from his exertions. “Think I should go into porn?”
I chuckle, reaching out to wrap my arms about him and pull him tight against my chest. This changes the angle slightly and allows me to thrust upwards while still kissing him. “Fuck, I love your dick,” he says. “I love this… fuck, don’t stop.”
I thrust harder, trapping him tight to my body as I suck and bite and kiss every inch of skin I can reach with my mouth. I can feel his nails digging into my forearms as he holds on and takes every pound and thrust I give him. It doesn’t take long like this.
I go to pull out. “I’m going to—”
“In me,” he orders, tightening his hold. “Give me it. I want all of it.”
I let go. My orgasm rushes out of me and into him in great shuddering waves of white-hot, blinding pleasure.
“Asher… Christ, you’re perfect… you’re so perfect…” I kiss and suck and scrape my teeth over the skin while he trembles in my arms. When my own orgasm is over, I reach down to feel his dick still hard and throbbing.
I begin to jerk him before he stops me with a gasping, “Wait,” and shifts onto his back again. Pulling his legs wide to offer me a view of his well-used hole, he says, “Put your fingers back in, please. Fuck me with them till I come.”
I groan. This fucking boy.
Sliding two fingers inside him as deep as I can, twisting them very slightly until Asher’s eyes roll back and he nods.
“Yeah, fuck, right there.” Then I start to thrust. Gasping, Asher grabs his dick almost violently and begins to jerk it, and I watch the pleasure build on his face.
A bit lip, a tense stomach, his free hand fondling his balls.
When I lean in to lick the head of his dripping cock, he curses and whines. He’s very close now.
“Come for me, beautiful boy,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the thin skin adjacent to his cock.
My fingers work in and out, fucking him as he works himself to orgasm.
I could do this for hours, watch this for hours; he looks so beautiful like this.
Then his breath hitches, and I can feel him tighten around my fingers, fist-like, hot muscle clenching as pleasure tears through him.
His body tenses as he lifts his ass off the bed to thrust his cock into the air as delicious ropes of white lash over his tight stomach.
It’s thrilling to be this close to it. His pleasure, his art. In its most raw and carnal form.
I withdraw my fingers from him with great care, running them over his cock and stomach to scoop up some of the hot mess there, sucking it into my mouth as I settle next to him on the bed.
He has one hand flung over his eyes as his chest rises and falls erratically.
Eventually, though, he lifts his hand from his eyes to look at me.
A small, embarrassed (?) smile plays on the side of his mouth, eyes sleepy with satisfaction.
“I’m still alive, don’t worry,” I say.
“That’s good, because I think I might be dead.”
“Don’t you do this for a living?”
Something flickers over his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant. “I guess. Didn’t get much time to prepare for this one, though—preparation is everything in porn.”
“Is that so? I thought it might be lubricant.”
He laughs a full-body laugh, delicate limbs shaking with the force of it.
“I’m sort of obsessed with how you say that.”
“Yes, I noticed,” I say, sleep rushing at me like a great wave. London, the flight, and the sex have thoroughly wiped me out. I could sleep for a week as long as he stays right here next to me. Throwing an arm over his body, I tug him closer. “I need to sleep.”
“I’ll need to change my sheets if we do that.”
“Hmmmm… alright…” My eyes are already closing.
“Christian?”
His voice sounds far away now, like a soft melody floating over a stone wall.
“Hmmm?”
“I’m really happy you came back early.”
“Me too, darling. Me too.”
He mutters something else, but I fall off the cliff into unconsciousness before my brain is able to process it.