Chapter 14 #2
I looked up at him, drinking in the expanse of chest and the way his lips parted as I mouthed over his denim covered bulge. “Noah,” he whispered.
“Hmm?” I hummed as I began to unbutton his pants. “Everything okay, baby?”
“Y-yeah,” he stammered out as I nudged down his jeans. The head of his cock peeked out from the top of his gray boxer briefs, a temptation I couldn’t refuse. I flicked my tongue over the head, and he let out a shaky moan. “Very, very okay.”
I smiled and freed him from the confines of his underwear.
I was aware that we had a time constraint.
The dough needed to rest for thirty minutes, and we did have sauce simmering on the stove.
Sauce that would eventually need our attention so it didn’t burn.
No, as much as I wanted to take my time, pull him apart at the seams and put him back together over and over again, I couldn’t.
I swallowed him down, working him over with my mouth and tongue.
The small kitchen filled with the sounds of his grunts and groans, and I was determined to pull out more.
Every sound went straight to my dick, but I did nothing to ease the pressure building in my own jeans.
No, this was all about Matt. His hands tangled into my hair, and he began to thrust into my mouth.
They were shallow thrusts at first, and I wrapped my hands around his bare ass.
I nudged him forward, encouraging him to fuck my face.
The shallow thrusts grew deeper as he drove himself down my throat.
Spit and precum dripped from the side of my mouth, and he kept pushing harder, making me gag.
My eyes glossed over, and I moaned around his length.
We worked in tandem, chasing his pleasure.
I could feel when he was getting close, felt his cock pulsing in my throat.
I needed his release. I needed to taste his cum on my tongue.
“So close,” he moaned, telling me what I already knew, what I could read in the thrusts of his hips.
I needed to send him over the edge. My hand moved up his bare torso, groping at his chest and thumbing over his nipples.
My other hand tugged at his heavy balls, and a few moments later, his hips stuttered.
His seed released down my throat, and I swallowed down every drop.
I kept sucking him as his legs buckled, kept going until he started to soften in my mouth.
When I finally pulled off him, he slid down the wall and pushed me back onto the linoleum floor.
His lips captured mine as his body weight pinned me in place.
I felt his hands at the button of my pants.
His warm hand slipped beneath my boxers and wrapped tightly around my shaft.
It only took a few short strokes before I spilled over his fist, moaning into his mouth.
He wiped his hand on my shirt, not breaking the kiss. We made out until we were both hard again, thrusting against each other. We made out until the smell of burning hit my nostrils.
“The sauce,” I gasped, pushing him lightly off me. “We have to—”
“Right.” He rolled over, landing on the floor with a thud.
I looked down at my ruined and rumbled shirt, at both of our pants hanging open with our hard cocks out, at his bare chest and rumpled hair, and laughed.
He joined me, and I felt a warmth course through me that was a welcome relief from the last few days.
He was the first one on his feet, and he reached down to help me up. We tucked ourselves away. He washed his hands and stirred the sauce, lowering the heat, while I took off my cum stained shirt. I started toward the bedroom to throw our clothes in the dirty laundry.
Hours later, we had dirty lasagna plates sitting on the coffee table, and he was quiet again.
I sighed and reached for the remote, pausing our show in the middle of a scene. He angled his head up to me, and I saw the confusion in his eyes. “Talk to me,” I whispered. “Tell me what’s been wrong with you the past few days?”
He opened his mouth and shut it a few times, and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
It took everything in me not to push, to try to get the words that he kept pulling back.
My patience was soon rewarded. He pulled away to sit straight on the couch, angling his body toward mine.
“We’re supposed to be taking it slow.” My brow furrowed, because I thought we’d been on the same page with every physical step we’d taken.
“I’m having a really hard time taking it slow with you.
Every time I look at you, it’s like… I don’t know?
Static in my brain and this swelling in my chest and butterflies and the realization that I’m not taking it slow at all. ”
I reached out to cover his hand with mine, hoping to ground him before he spiraled into a full ramble. “Matt, we can go slower. We can put the brakes on the physical stuff if you need—”
“No!” he exclaimed. “Oh my God, no. The physical stuff is great. I’m not talking about the physical stuff.” His words came out in a jumbled rush.
“I don’t understand.”
“You needed me to take the emotional stuff slow. You said you needed me to take the emotional stuff slow, because it might take a while for you to get on the same page and you might not ever get there, but I don’t think I’m doing a good job at it.
” He looked down at our joined hands, and it dawned on me.
That was why he’d been quiet the past few nights.
He’d been trying to put on the brakes, trying to slow down the way he felt.
He’d been pulling away because he wanted to protect me.
I lifted his chin so I could look into those deep brown eyes of his, and I could see it all there.
I could see the way he felt about me, the way he was trying to take control of it, so he didn’t scare me off.
And something else dawned on me.
I didn’t want him to rein it in. I didn’t want him to slow himself down or dull his shine in any way. His big, open heart was one of my favorite things about him. I didn’t want him to limit a single thing about himself. “Don’t.”
“What?”
“Feel what you feel. It takes me longer, but I never want you to shrink yourself down because of it.”
I never wanted that. I cared about him too much for that. I liked him too much for that.
The realization hit me like a freight train.
He wasn’t alone in catching feelings too fast. For the first time in years, I was pretty sure I had them, too. That was the truth of the tangled emotions I was feeling.
I needed more time to figure it all out. I needed more time to think about it, to make sure it was real, but I already knew it was true.
For the first time in years, I was romantically attracted to my partner.