Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Morgan melted into the kiss, his lips parting instantly, eagerly for Ty as he shifted to face him more fully.
Ty’s hands found his hips, pulled, and a second later, Morgan was straddling him on the couch, easier on his neck and shoulder and providing so much more physical contact.
A thrill went down his spine at how close they were, how intimately they were pressed together—and Ty only seemed to want more, his hands roving restlessly across Morgan’s back as he pulled him in tighter, hips and thighs clenching rhythmically.
Morgan was desperately hard in no time. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, tearing his mouth away as Ty’s hands found his ass and pulled him in tight, pressing his erection against Ty’s stomach. “Ty, fuck …”
“You feel so good,” Ty murmured from where he’d pressed his lips to the side of Morgan’s neck, sucking a bruise into his skin. His lips were blissfully cool on Morgan’s overheated body. “Mmm, you feel perfect. I want you so much.”
Morgan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pure lust rolled through him. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll come too soon.”
“Come, then.”
“Ty—”
Ty looked up at him, his eyes gleaming bright, splotches of red in his cheeks.
“Come on me,” he said, urging Morgan’s hips forward again.
“Come all over me, I want it, I want to feel you.” He reached around with one hand and deftly unfastened Morgan’s jeans, then pushed his underwear out of the way.
Morgan’s dick was slick at the tip, and a bead of precum slipped out and down onto Ty’s thumb as they watched.
Ty lifted his hand to his lips and sucked it off, his eyes never leaving Morgan’s.
“I want you,” he repeated, then reached down again and wrapped his fingers around Morgan’s length, jacking him off in a tight grip.
“Fuck.” Morgan closed his eyes and leaned in, driving his hips up into Ty’s grasp as he wrapped his good arm around Ty’s neck like an anchor, holding them close despite the storm of desire surging through his body.
He was making all sorts of sounds, the kind that Bentley used to make fun of him for—you sound like an animal—but it was okay because Ty didn’t care, Ty wanted to hear him, Ty wanted him, and oh shit, he was going to come, he was going to come all over Ty, make a mess of him, fuck, fuck—
Morgan arched forward with a broken gasp as his cock pulsed in Ty’s hand, coating his fingers and stomach with Morgan’s release.
His orgasm was fucking transcendent, though; it had been so long since he’d come at all, much less with another person, someone who looked at him the way Ty was looking at him.
Morgan all but dissolved as the waves of pleasure peaked and finally began to ebb away, leaving him sinking down onto Ty’s lap … and the massive erection in his pants.
Holy shit. How did a man this slight have that much cock in there?
Morgan wanted to find out. He reached down, but Ty shook his head.
“Not yet,” he whispered, his hips restless as he pressed them up against Morgan’s ass.
“Just—like this, this time. Please?” He thrust up against him, still locked away in his pants, and part of Morgan wanted to protest. He wanted to touch Ty like Ty had done for him, wanted to stroke him and put his mouth on him and see just how far he could take that monster cock into his body, and yet …
if this was how Ty wanted it for now, then this was what they’d do.
Maybe he thought Morgan would be intimidated. Wait until you find out what a size queen I can be.
“Okay,” was all he said, though, then, “Yes, please, ah—” as Ty began grinding up hard, a slow, deep rhythm that pressed his cock against Morgan’s hole, and holy shit, it was going to feel so good when he got him inside, it felt so good now.
“Fuck me, fuck me, God, yes,” Morgan whispered in Ty’s ear.
“Oh my God, do it, come, I want you, yes …”
Ty gasped, his whole face going bright red, and then one of his hands clasped the back of Morgan’s head and pressed his face down against his shoulder, obscuring his vision but not his hearing as Ty writhed beneath him, flexing his hips and coming so hard he sounded like he was going to pass out.
The beast in his pants strained against Morgan’s ass, and it had to be his mind playing tricks on him, but it almost seemed to wriggle with an impossible dexterity, like it was trying to free itself.
About thirty breath-catching seconds later, Ty’s grip eased up. Morgan sat back and looked down at his lover—they were lovers now, holy shit—and smiled. “That was amazing.”
“Mmmm.” Ty’s eyes were barely slits, his body gone limp from pleasure as he stared up at Morgan.
“Yes.” He tilted his chin up, and Morgan leaned in and pressed another kiss to his mouth, less hungry this time but no less satisfying.
One of his hands found Morgan’s shoulder and dug gently into the muscles around the joint, and he groaned into the kiss. “Are you all right?”
“Very all right,” Morgan replied. “That feels so good.” Everything you do feels so good.
“Mmm.” He massaged Morgan’s shoulder, then his neck, and despite the mess they’d made and how uncomfortable Ty’s briefs had to be, he made no effort to speed things up.
By the time Ty let go, Morgan was so relaxed he almost passed out right in Ty’s lap.
“Time to rest,” Ty said and got his hands under Morgan’s thighs, lifted as he stood, and damn, he was holding him up like it was nothing.
He let go when they got to the bedroom, though, and stood a bit awkwardly with his hands at his sides. “I need—I don’t have sleep clothes with me.”
What did he sleep in, then? Maybe he sleeps naked.
Morgan cleared his throat. “I’ve got some you can use,” he assured Ty.
“And stuff for tomorrow.” There was no washer or dryer on Parrish Island—Phil had apparently cleaned everything he owned by hand while Morgan preferred to use the laundromat in town once a week.
He handed over a set of pajamas for Ty, then let him have the bathroom first.
Wait. Morgan was getting too far ahead of himself.
We just got each other off once. That doesn’t mean we’ll ever do it again.
He wanted to, he really wanted to, but he had to remember that neither of them was being honest with the other right now.
Ty was hiding something from him, and Morgan wasn’t going to stay on Parrish Island forever the way Ty seemed determined to.
If the mere prospect of taking half a day to go to the mountains intimidated the man, he’d never be able to handle flying all the way to Minnesota to meet Morgan’s sister and her family.
It was okay. They could do this, they could have this time together and nothing more, and it would be fine. They could be friends with benefits, easy and simple, and when Morgan left, he’d be able to do it with a fond farewell.
Sure.
Right.
When he and Ty went to sleep that night, they were on opposite sides of the bed, a solid two feet of space between them. When Morgan woke up the next morning, he was in bed with what he swore was an octopus.
No wonder he never offered to share back at his place, Morgan reflected with a smile as he glanced down at Ty, who was still sleeping. He’d have cuddled up to me in no time.
It was nice, actually, being held so close and so tight, like he was a necessary component of Ty sleeping in longer than Morgan had ever known him to before.
The possessive, lizard-brain part of Morgan liked it way more than he probably should.
Ty was finally warm and just a little bit clammy from sweating overnight, and he smelled like salt and sea water and had the calming effect of a weighted blanket.
Feeling daring, Morgan pressed a kiss to the top of Ty’s head before trying to escape his clutches.
It didn’t work; without waking up, Ty ratcheted him in even tighter until the pressure started to become a little uncomfortable.
Morgan stared at the ceiling with a stupid grin on his face for a minute before giving in to the inevitable and waking Ty up.
Ty made a strange sort of clicking noise in the back of this throat. It was adorable.
“I know,” Morgan commiserated, “but we’ve got to get up now if we’re going to make it to town by ten. I’ve got PT, and you haven’t gone fishing.”
“Click-pop-pop.”
“I don’t know what that means, but we’ve still got to get going.”
Ty finally raised his head. There was a red mark on his cheek from where he’d pressed it against Morgan’s chest. “Mmm.”
“Yeah?”
“Okay.”
For all that the morning started off so well, their conversation didn’t continue much beyond that.
Ty was quiet, not quite making eye contact with Morgan as they dressed—separately again—and ate breakfast. Morgan tried several times to elicit more than single-word responses from Ty, but nothing worked.
Shit. Did he regret it? Was he going to catapult them from awkward friends to awkward exes?
Was the fact that this was Morgan’s last physical therapy session bothering him because then he’d have no reason to stick around?
Morgan would be happy for him to stay; all Ty had to do was indicate that he wanted to.
But no. The first thing that got a full sentence out of him came as they got into the boat and prepared to head into town.
“It’s foggy today.”
True, but that hardly seemed revelatory.
It was foggy here most mornings. “The sun will burn it off,” Morgan said as he got into his life jacket.
He could put it on himself now, a win as far as he was concerned.
Ty never wore one, which seemed a little hypocritical given how insistent he’d been on Morgan sporting one every time they set foot in a boat, but then he had been the one to fish Morgan out of the water last time.
He had good reason to be a little skeptical of Morgan’s swimming ability.
“Mmm, perhaps.”