Chapter 10 #2
“Always with the promises,” I whisper, fighting back a rush of emotion so potent, it makes me want to cry.
“Always,” he agrees. “What do you need, Eric?” His voice is low, calm, and controlled in a way that makes my head spin harder.
One hand braces beside my head while the other slides down my side, fingers tracing the line of my ribs through the hoodie. Every inch he covers feels like fire under the fabric.
I can’t think.
Can’t form anything coherent.
All I know is his heat burning through our clothes and his weight pinning me down. The fabric feels abrasive now as I rock my hips, and the contrast of rough cloth against the slickness gathering at the tip of my cock makes me whimper.
“Touch me,” I beg, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “Please, I need… need you—fuck, Dmitri, please!”
He exhales roughly through his nose, like he’s holding himself back by a thread before his palm slides down my chest. He maps every inch, teasing and squeezing as my hoodie bunches under his fingers.
The soft cotton drags over my nipples, sending sparks straight to my groin as another damp rush of precum spreads hot over my skin.
When he reaches the waistband of my jeans he pauses, thumb brushing the sensitive skin just above the button. It’s light, almost reverent, but it makes my hips jerk up anyway.
“Touch you like this?” he murmurs, before he traces the ridge of my cock straining against the front of my jeans.
“Yes, fuck… please,” I beg, thrusting off the bed.
He chuckles, then cups my bulge with that giant hand. My eyes roll back into my head at the friction, and the sound that leaves me is a desperate, pleading thing. Dmitri drags his palm along my length, a low groan forming in his throat as I grind against his touch.
“More,” I whisper, and when his fingers dip beneath the denim to trace the line of my hipbone, I’m sure I’m going to combust. His nails scrape lightly over the skin there, and I gasp at the sensation.
He pops the button with one hand then drags my zipper down with agonizing patience, and the sound of metal teeth parting is obscene in the quiet room.
Cool air hits the heated skin of my lower belly, and then his fingers are right there, wrapping around me through the thin cotton of my boxer briefs.
My hips snap up into his grip with a choked cry of his name.
“Shh,” he soothes, thumb circling the head through the cloth to spread the wetness there. “I’ve got you.”
I’m shaking now, desperate little thrusts punching into his fist in frantic, uneven jerks. My thighs tremble, muscles tightening deep in my core that coil tighter with every pass of his palm.
He watches my face the whole time in a way that’s almost worshipful in its focus.
Like I’m something precious he’s afraid to break.
His free hand slides up under my hoodie, fingers splaying across my stomach to feel the way the muscles jump and clench under his touch.
He traces the soft line where my abs give way to that layer he called beautiful at the lake.
“You’re so gorgeous like this,” he says quietly, voice steady even as his own breathing has grown ragged. “Letting go. Letting me see you.”
The words hit harder than they should. My eyes burn, and I turn my face into his neck, mouthing and kissing at the skin there. The hoodie collar scrapes my cheek as I press closer, desperate to feel more of him.
“Don’t stop,” I plead against his throat. “Please don’t stop—need more—need you—”
His thigh presses between mine so I can grind against it, and he slips his hand into my underwear.
Blazing hot skin meets mine as his fingers circle my cock, and I gasp against his neck as he collects my precum and starts to stroke.
His thigh is solid between my legs, and the dual sensations push me to the edge in seconds.
“Dmitri—” My voice breaks as my entire body curls in on itself. “I’m… fuck… I’m gonna come.”
“Do it,” he whispers, lips brushing my ear. “Let me feel it.”
That’s all it takes. My back arches off the mattress, hips snapping up into his grip as I spill over his fist with a choked cry. He works me through it, murmuring soft nonsense against my temple.
How I’m good, so good, and how he’s got me.
Pleasure hits me so hard it rushes out of me in a sob, and he doesn’t release me until the aftershocks fade. I’m trembling, boneless, and clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me from flying apart.
He doesn’t pull away, just keeps holding me, hand still wrapped loosely around my cock. His breathing is ragged now too, chest rising and falling against mine, but he doesn’t push for anything else. Just waits, letting me come back down.
When I finally manage to lift my head, his eyes are tender.
“Hi,” I whisper, voice wrecked.
“Hi,” he whispers back.
I swallow hard. “That was…”
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “It was.”
His weight shifts, and when his cock presses against my thigh, the heat practically seeps straight through his jeans. I’m still sensitive, still coated in my own cum, but the realization sends a fresh, dizzying rush of blood straight to my groin.
He groans low, the sound vibrating against my lips. His hips roll forward to grind against my thigh as his hand tightens around my cock just enough to make me whimper.
It’s too much and not enough all at once.
“Someone’s needy,” he murmurs.
“Dmitri,” I breathe, voice cracked. My hands fist in his hoodie, pulling him closer until our chests are flush. “You’re… fuck, you’re hard.”
He exhales sharply through his nose as his forehead drops to mine, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide. “Yeah. Been hard since the porch. Since you looked at me like that.”
“I can feel you,” I whisper, hips rocking in small, desperate circles. “I want to feel you.”
“It wouldn’t take much,” he says, voice rough. “Watching you come… the way you shook, the sounds you made… fuck, Eric.”
I turn my face into his neck, my tongue dragging up the column of his throat as his pulse hammers under my lips. “Want you,” I mumble against his skin. “Want you inside me. Please.”
His whole body tenses. His cock jerks against my thigh, hard enough that I feel it through the denim. “Eric—”
“I’m serious.” My voice cracks on the words, and I pull back just enough to look at him. “I’m tired of running. Tired of pretending this isn’t happening. I want you. I want you to fuck me. Right now. Please.”
He stares at me, chest heaving, eyes searching mine like he’s looking for any sign of doubt. There isn’t any. Just raw, aching want.
“It’s too soon,” he argues, though his voice is thin and the argument weak. “We’re both drunk. I don’t want—”
“I don’t care,” I cut in. My hips roll again, grinding shamelessly into his hand. “I don’t care if it’s messy. I don’t care if we regret it tomorrow. I just… I need you. Need to feel you. Please, Dmitri. I’ve waited so long.”
“Will you regret it tomorrow?” he asks.
“Will you?” I counter.
His breath shudders out of him, and his hand flexes around my cock once in a possessive hold before he releases me.
He sits back on his heels, looking down at me sprawled beneath him.
I’m a fucking mess, and I know it. My hoodie is rucked up and my jeans open, my boxer briefs are soaked, and my cock lies flushed and leaking against my stomach.
“Fuck,” he breathes. His fingers trail down my sternum, tracing the line and making every muscle in my stomach jump. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” I reach for him, fingers hooking in his belt loops to tug him back down. “Please.”
He exhales hard, then nods once. “Okay. But I don’t have supplies.”
“My drawer,” I rasp, nodding toward the nightstand. “There’s… stuff. I think.”
He leans over me, stretching to open the drawer. His cock brushes my stomach through his jeans and I moan at the contact, hips jerking up to chase it. He digs around before muttering a curse, then sinks back to look at me again.
His eyes are unfocused for a moment until he shakes his head. “I can’t find anything.”
“Then we’ll do without,” I argue.
He surges up, grabs my hips, and flips me so my back hits the wall with a soft thud. Before I can catch my breath he’s on me again—mouth crashing into mine and hands sliding under my hoodie to grip bare skin. His palms are hot against my sides, fingers digging in just enough to bruise.
He kisses me like he’s starving, tongue thrusting deep and teeth grazing my lower lip. One hand slides down to palm my ass and pull me flush against him. His cock grinds against mine and I cry out against his lips, hips bucking helplessly.
“Dmitri, please…”
He breaks the kiss, breathing hard against my mouth before climbing off the bed. “I’m going to my room so I don’t hurt you,” he says, walking to the door and pausing with his hand on the knob. “Lube… whatever else we need… I’ll get… I’ll be right back.”
My chest heaves as I nod. He looks at me one last time, then slips out into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind him, and I’m left leaning against the wall, heart slamming and body humming. Waiting for him to come back and make good on every promise.