Chapter 17
MARK
Tim’s kisses offer the most comforting of sensations.
Each one is like a deep tissue massage. My muscles relax into the experience.
I lie across my bed, him on top of me. We’re fully clothed, and for the first time since we started doing this, I don’t need him out of his clothes or inside of me.
I need him to be here. I need to be close to him.
After we chatted about Becky, I wanted him to take away the pain and the hurt.
I can’t tell if he meant what he said about me getting the wrong idea. If he’s running a game on me now.
He pulls away and gazes at me, assessing my face.
His eyes glisten with the lamplight coming from my nightstand.
He wears a serious expression—one I can’t read, and I do my best to keep him from reading mine.
I’ve always known that he’s hot. These rugged features. The perfect length of his trimmed stubble. Those long dark locks that fall across his forehead when he’s hovering over me like this, his weight pressed against mine.
There’s something different about what I’m noticing tonight, though.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,” I say.
His expression shifts to surprise. “What?”
“I don’t know that I’m doing this right anymore. I think I’m starting to feel…”
Why am I fucking admitting it? It’s too late for me to take it back, but before I can go on, he says, “Earlier, when you asked me if I was worried about you getting the wrong idea, I said I wasn’t, because you’re not getting the wrong idea.”
He leans down and kisses me again, and it’s the sort of kiss I can lose myself in.
And it’s even better than our other kisses, but maybe that’s because he’s given me hope that I’m not losing my mind. That what we share could mean more than whatever the fuck he had with Keith. That I’m not falling into that same trap.
Or aren’t I?
I break our kiss.
“Tim, please,” I say. “If this is some sort of game...I can’t handle it.”
Tim’s eyes are filled with concern. It’s time for me to be honest with him. It’s the only chance I have of protecting my heart. The only chance that maybe he’ll see he shouldn’t hurt me if that’s what he’s trying to do.
“When I was fifteen, I had a breakdown when my sister passed away. The day it happened, I went into her room and curled into a ball in the corner. I wouldn’t eat.
Didn’t talk to anyone. My father gave me meds to keep me fucking sane.
Or at least sedated and harmless. Until I could recover from what happened.
“Greg hurt me a lot, but because he made me feel like I was an idiot. I liked Greg, but that was it. I thought he was hot. We had decent sex. Not the kind of sex we have, but it was good for being new to it. When we broke up, I knew I could keep going. I don’t know that I can do that if I keep going like this with you. I’m worried I might lose my mind.”
He just gazes at me. I wish he’d say something, even if it’s a rejection. Even if it’s to tell me that I’ve taken this too far, and he needs out.
“I know this is a lot more than you bargained for,” I say. “But it’s gotten to the point where I think we either do something about this or I need to get out. I started seeing you because I was sure you couldn’t hurt me, but now…that’s not true, and I’m scared.”
“I won’t hurt you, Mark.”
He sets his hand on my face and strokes his thumb across my cheek. It brings me so much ease.
As I look into his eyes, I believe him, but am I just kidding myself like I did with Greg?
I hope not, because I’m not sure I can take it.
And from what I know of Tim now, I don’t imagine he could ever do that to me, but what if I’m wrong?
What if it it’s all a game to him?
“I like you,” Tim says. “A lot. So fucking much it scares me. I know I talked a big talk when we started all this, but I don’t want any more boundaries. I don’t want to keep you at a distance. I want you in my life. I want to be with just you. No other guys. For either of us.”
I wonder if he’s going to say it, but then he says, “Mark, I want you to be my boyfriend.”
And I can’t help but smile. Because it means he’s serious and that this has all meant more to him than anything he did with Keith.
“I want you to be my boyfriend, too,” I confess.
He smiles before kissing me. He wraps his arms under my neck and thrusts his hip against my leg.
His hard-on beneath the jeans he still wears rubs against me. I reach down and unbutton his pants. I reach under his boxer briefs and grab his girth, stroking up and down to satisfy his needs.
He rises onto his knees, takes off his jacket, and tosses it aside. As he removes his shirt, I start to remove mine, but it gets caught halfway up my body. He assists me, and we throw it aside.
He has a smile on his face, and I can’t help but chuckle at my clumsiness.
He kisses me again, and we continue undressing. We work our way up slowly tonight. Like we have all the time in the world.
Soon, after suiting and lubing up, he’s pushing into me with his dick. So hard.
Like even in the heat of our most passionate moments, he’s always been taking care of me.
I throw my hands over my head to let him know I’m all his.
He grins as he gazes across my body, as though he’s appreciating my muscles. I like knowing they’re his to appreciate.
He rubs his hand across my torso.
Then he leans down and presses his body against mine once again, his face right before mine as he looks into my eyes.
I lower a hand and rest it on his thick bicep.
I don’t want this moment to escape me. Even if something happens, and it has to come to an end, I want to remember I had Tim right now, as more than a good lay.
Something special. Something emotional.
He rubs his nose against mine and offers a soft peck on my cheek. It sends a wave of sensation rushing through me.
His breath against me warms me beyond the sensation on my flesh.
An impulse rises within me, and I push at his hip.
“Let me ride you,” I say.
He pulls out and lies beside me. I get on my knees and crawl over him, descending onto his cock, filling myself with him.
He grips my hip and strokes his thumb across it. Then he licks his palm and begins stroking my cock as I move up and down.
His expression twists, filled with a familiar look, like when I know he’s enjoying my body, what I’m offering him.
Each time I descend, taking more of him into me, he thrusts up, and our rhythm is better than it’s ever been. Each thrust forces his cock against my prostate.
The excitement races through me. Our speed intensifies with the excitement of this experience.
But neither of us is in any hurry to get to the end.
Like we just want to play this out, share this for as long as possible.
But I can’t stop that feeling as I near my orgasm…
as I grow nearer and nearer to that moment with every sensation he rouses within me.
The pressure in my cock has built to such an intensity that I know it’s just a matter of moments, and his movements have quickened to let me know that he’s getting close, too.
Before I come, I lean down so that I can look into his eyes.
He’s still jerking me off, and his movements are so in tune with what my body wants that I know I don’t have but a few more seconds.
We stare into each other’s eyes.
I gasp as I come.
I pull back so I can watch it rush across his torso, showering his body, into the dips and grooves between those beautiful muscles.
He releases my cock and wipes the come across his body, pushing it through the grooves in his abs, reveling in having me all over him.
My prostate is hypersensitive, but as he opens his own mouth and pushes in just the right way, it stirs a sensation that makes me shake and quiver. The explosive energy courses through my body as I hear him groan and he fills the condom he wears.
When he’s finished, I collapse on top of him, letting my come stick to my body.
I just want to be near him. I want to be as close to him as I can be.
I’m waiting for him to push me away. We normally don’t hold each other after we fuck, but I don’t want this to end, and as his arms wrap around me, I’m relieved. And scared at the same time.