Chapter 26 #2
Warren’s fingers curled tightly in the lapels of Elliot’s coat. To drag him closer or shove him away? The emotions flitting across his face sent a thousand mixed signals. Maybe Warren wasn’t sure what he wanted either.
“But I am,” he said, voice near to breaking, rough with anguish.
Wrenching Elliot’s heart. “Because it’s more than needing you to chase away my nightmares.
It’s you. I miss you so much more than I should.
Every time I start to remember you in my dreams, it’s like a wound opens in my chest and I can’t stem the bleeding fast enough, it soaks into my bones, and it makes me…
” Warren paused, staring into Elliot’s eyes, breaths fast and shallow against Elliot’s chest, heartbeat racing.
“It makes me feel too much. Makes me want too much. Things I can’t possibly have. Things I can’t ask for.”
Elliot’s own breathing faltered, adrenaline and something much more meaningful rushing in his veins, intoxicating him. “Ask me,” he insisted, wanting to reach up and touch Warren’s jaw, to offer physical comfort. “If you want something, you have to tell me.”
The struggle playing out in front of him, plain as day on Warren’s expressive features, almost shattered his resolve, but he couldn’t give in, not now.
Warren needed to say so. It was imperative he learned to admit when he needed help, when he wanted something.
Accepting it had to be his choice alone, Elliot brought him as far as he could, as close to the realization that anything Warren asked of him would be granted.
Trust me. Please just trust me.
“I…” His glimmering eyes begged Elliot to supply the words, and when he didn’t Warren dropped his gaze to Elliot’s chin.
Silence stretched and went on. Emotions shifted across Warren’s face.
Elliot could see him battling himself every step of the way, laboring for every inch of ground.
Finally, Warren’s shoulders sagged as if the fight had gone completely out of him.
Warren sucked in a slow breath, and softly said, “I need your help. At night. To sleep. And…” He looked back up, the challenge in him reigniting, as if getting that first admission out broke through a wall and now he couldn’t stop.
“And I want you,” he said, fierce for all it was whisper quiet, pushing up on his toes, jerking down on Elliot’s lapels.
Their mouths crashed together in a hard kiss far too long coming.
All of the anger festering in Elliot’s chest flamed into desire, longing so bright his entire body throbbed with it.
He sank his gloved fingers in Warren’s thick hair.
Held him close as Warren’s lips parted, tongue delving into Elliot’s mouth, flickering against his.
Groaning, Elliot matched Warren’s desperation.
Finally. Christ.
Need for air broke them apart. Gasping, their eyes locked, and then Warren was on him again.
His mouth pressed frantic kisses along Elliot’s cold jaw, stopping to suck beneath his ear, spangling surprised pleasure through him in a flowing pulse.
The damp trail he left cooled quickly. The contrast to his hot mouth made Elliot shiver and pant.
He slid his fingers along the breadth of Warren’s muscled shoulders, gripped at his biceps.
Pressed himself forward and shoved his growing arousal against Warren’s hip, showed him how good it was.
He felt as much as heard the moan Warren let loose against his skin with an answering roll of his own hips.
The visceral satisfaction of Warren rutting against him stoked a primal possessive flush of lust. Elliot wanted him so badly.
He’s so…I’m so…
“I missed you,” he blurted as Warren fumbled hands between them to get at the fastening of Elliot’s trousers. “This of course, but I missed you.”
“Me too,” Warren agreed, not slowing for a moment.
“These fucking gloves,” he muttered when his fingers slipped on the buttons.
There was a rustle. Then the soft sound of material hitting the dusty ground at Elliot’s feet.
He didn’t look, because Warren captured his mouth again, and a moment later his icy hand closed around Elliot’s hot hard cock—startling and arousing—and Elliot bit down on Warren’s lip, moaning.
A high, tight sound he couldn’t hold back.
The sensation was so tantalizing, so wonderfully exquisite he almost forgot his manners. Jerking his mouth free of Warren’s, he clamped his teeth down on the leather of his own glove and pulled it off, letting it drop to the ground too.
Soon they were stroking one another, the cold air half-forgotten as they thundered toward inevitable climax.
I love you. Christ, Warren, I love you. I love you.
He didn’t say it yet, couldn’t. But he hoped Warren felt it in each tender caress and kiss.
Every gasp Warren made, every desperate sound, every needy jolt of his blood-warm straining cock in Elliot’s palm was a vibrant reminder that he was here, alive.
Warren’s grip went a little slack. In response Elliot squeezed his own fingers tighter, sped his movements.
Reveled in the way Warren dropped his head forward, resting heavily on Elliot’s shoulder.
His free hand grasped the back of Elliot’s coat and held on for dear life, breaths hitching.
“I want you,” Elliot whispered heatedly into Warren’s hair. “So badly, you can’t possibly comprehend.”
“I do,” Warren panted, shuddering, letting out a soft groan. “Want you—God, Elliot—I want you more.”
“Someday we’ll have nothing but time,” Elliot told him, words rough and wicked.
Indulging in a fantasy he had often. “No need to rush, no danger waiting for us, nothing but time to explore and touch and feel, and I’ll take you so slowly, so thoroughly that you’ll never forget I was there. I’ll own a part of you. Mine forever.”
Warren moaned, desperate, the sound making Elliot throb painfully in Warren’s loose grip. “Already won’t. You already do.”
Christ. Dizzy pleasure at those words slammed into Elliot. He wanted to see Warren fall apart. “At the bar when we met, do you remember how I—”
“Ah. God, yes, please.” Elliot felt Warren swelling in his hand, so close already, and he focused, passing a wave of euphoria into him.
Warren stiffened instantly, his breaths stopping.
Elliot barely cupped his gloved hand in time to catch it when Warren spent with a shaking gasp, clinging and trembling, pulsing again and again in Elliot’s palm.
He wrung out the last drops of Warren’s pleasure and tucked him away, out of the cold.
Warren sagged against him, the rough wool of his sweater dragging over Elliot’s sorely neglected cock, sensation shivering through him.
Ignoring his own need in favor of holding onto Warren as he gradually recovered, Elliot enjoyed the solid weight of him.
The heat between them kept him warm enough.
“Fuck,” Warren murmured, long moments later, voice smokey.
Elliot’s cock reacted to it by swelling.
There was a chuckle in Warren’s voice as he finally seemed to notice he was still holding a very engorged cock.
He gave it a gentle squeeze. Elliot inhaled sharply.
“Hmm. We ought to take care of this, huh?”
“Oh. If you don’t mind,” he said, only the slightest bit breathlessly. A true feat.
“Fast or slow?” Warren asked, pumping him once, Elliot’s hips surging forward to meet the stroke. It felt so good he whimpered and struggled not to beg.
“Fast, Christ. It’s freezing out here. I’ll be lucky not to get frostbite at this rate.”
Warren laughed then, a bubbly, marvelous sound, nuzzling the skin above Elliot’s collar. “Bet I can make you forget all about the pesky cold,” he wagered.
And he did.