CHAPTER 20 #2
Shuffling to the side of the bed, I fetch the new bottle of lube I bought.
It was a manifestation of sorts—if you purchase the necessary items, it might happen.
His crease is like an inferno when I settle between his legs and circle his hole with my slickened fingers.
The way his eyes slip closed and his facial muscles go slack is a picture I’m going to live off in my mind.
“Fuck Chris,” he slurs, running a hand down his stomach when I press my index finger inside his heat.
How this man wants me is beyond me. Planting my hand next to him, I feed on his panting open mouth, working him open. He moans my name against my lips, a dream I never thought I’d have again.
“Now, please,” he begs, his hands cupping my face.
“Do you want a condom?”
“No. Just you, if that’s okay.”
I’m grateful he doesn’t mind. I don’t want to chance losing any of the sensation in my dick right now since it’s finally working when I want it to.
Sitting back on my feet, I scooch forward, slicking myself up while I watch Remy draw his knees up to his chest. I was so ignorant when I was younger that I didn’t even know men could have sex like this.
The internet and television have made leaps and bounds since those days when society was too shocked to become educated.
As I drag more lube over his twitching hole, teasing it, a feeling too big fills my chest. It’s possessive, proud, humbled, and grateful all at the same time.
Remy is my boyfriend, and he’s coming home with me at Christmas to meet my family.
We’re in my bed, free of expectations, about to claim each other with our bodies in a way we never have before—with deep emotions.
If it wasn’t love that brought us to this moment, I’ll never understand what love is.
Because I swear I see it in his eyes, and it’s all I can do not to cry.
“I dreamt about this,” I whisper, my voice sounding thick.
“What?”
“Deserving you. You looking at me like I earned you.”
A wash of tenderness spills over his features, and he pushes up on an elbow. His fingers slide to the back of my neck and tug me down for another kiss. Just as my lips meet his, a sharp blade of pain slices up my spine, locking my body up and stealing my breath.
The strangled sound that tears past my choked airway isn’t even a word. The pain is so debilitating, I can’t even breathe and have to grip onto Remy’s shoulder for support.
No… not now. Not fucking now!
“Chris! What’s wrong?”
I can’t even tell him, but I’m too pissed and ashamed to even if I could, slowly slumping to the side to get my palm on the mattress for balance.
I let out another pitiful sound, but leaning to my right and forward as I brace myself finally helps stop whatever my back didn’t like about my quick movement.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. Here, can you lie down?”
His gentle hand glides soothingly across my shoulders, and his other hooks underneath my armpit to help me lower myself. I crash onto my side and flop over onto my back. The sensation of a spike being driven up my spine stops, finally allowing me to take a gulp of air.
“I am so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need an ice pack?”
“I’m fine,” I pant. I’m not fine. My fucking cock is a hundred percent deflated, and my boyfriend is lubed up and unfulfilled right next to me. Giving myself a few strokes, I take him in, visual therapy from the upset, and rub his thigh reassuringly. “Just…give me a minute.”
“Chris,” he scoffs, eyes wild, “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you.”
Fucking hell. Compassion is the last thing I want right now. “No. I want to,” I reassure him, hoping there are no lingering signs of agony in my expression.
Shaking his head, he leans down and strokes my jaw with his thumb. “I want you to get off, too, but more importantly, I want you not to be in pain.”
Only Remy would care more about someone else than having a passionate moment ruined. This is why he deserves to have his mind blown. I keep stroking myself idly, willing the blood to return now that whatever got pinched before seems to be at ease.
“I’ve got some pills the doctor gave me.” I nod toward my bathroom, rubbing my palm up and down the curve of his hip. “They’re in my medicine cabinet. Let me go get one, and I’ll make you forget everyone’s name but mine again.”
The incredulous look on his face isn’t the response I was hoping for to my backup plan.
Apparently, there’s no sexy way to say, ‘Hey, wait, I’ll go grab my Sildenafil so I can fuck you.
’ If I could just get my cock to stand up, though, I’m hoping it will wipe that worry out of his eyes.
I push on the mattress, intent on sliding my legs gingerly over the side of the bed, but he puts a hand on my chest to stop me.
“Wait. I have a better idea.”
I stay put, wondering what on earth could make the dead rise.
My cock is shriveled and stuck to my thigh like it’s still winded from whatever nerve just pinched its life supply.
Remy shifts and settles on his knees between my thighs, a tender smile on his face.
His palms glide up my thighs, and he bends, pressing a kiss to the juncture at my hip.
Great. Now I get to disappoint him twice.
“Remy,” I warn gently, “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
He makes a shushing noise and places another kiss at the top of my right thigh, his hands lightly caressing my legs. “It’s not for your dick. It’s for your back.”
Now, I’m fucking lost. He must see so on my face when he glances up at me.
“It’s a relaxation technique I’ve never tried on a patient before. Just humor me,” he adds playfully. “Besides, if it’s me you’re worried about, I’m pretty sure I could come just from touching you.”
If he was trying to boost my confidence, that certainly did it.
Sighing in defeat, I close my eyes and imagine I’m sitting on my couch.
He walks in and stops in his tracks. His jaw falls open, and a sharp gasp leaves his lips as he grips the wall for support and comes in his pants.
I could definitely live with possessing that talent if it were possible.
I feel warm breath against my sac and then the wet tip of his tongue. My eyes flutter open as he kisses one of my testes. He takes it into his mouth, engulfing it, and swirls his tongue around its circumference.
Shit. Just the thought of it is hot.
“I think I’m going to have to report you to your boss if you ever…try this technique at work,” I caution, my voice coming out like gravel.
His nose nudges lower, right to the place where my cheeks begin behind my taint.
The slippery wet tip of his tongue traces the seam there, making me gasp.
On an instinct I didn’t know I possessed, I slide my feet up to the base of my ass to open myself as a swirl of arousal starts brewing in the pit of my groin.
“It would need lots of workshop trials at home before I’d even consider mentioning it at the center,” he purrs, drawing his tongue over my hole.
“Fuck,” I slur, my lungs burning in a good way now, and little tingles trickling down my cock and balls.
He was right. The muscles that tensed up when that javelin of pain fired earlier are now sedated from Remy’s every touch. I reach for my cock to stoke the static there and find it thickening again. I already knew he had magic hands. I’m adding a magic mouth to that list now, too.
Dragging his nails lightly through the hairs on my thighs, he unfurls a mastery of seduction.
Kisses to my inner thighs, flicks and swirls of his tongue to my crease, the base of my cock, and even my knuckles when my hand gets in the way.
He buries his face in the juncture of my hip, his cheek nestled against my cock and balls, and sucks on the skin there.
Tickling sparks zip down to my toes and up my spine, making it increasingly difficult to remain still.
A bead of precum glistens on my tip. I haven’t seen that in months, and even longer with another person involved.
Remy surfaces, moving toward my cock. And hell, he’s the eighth wonder of the world, his eyes hazy with desire, all from just touching me.
“Remy…”
I only get his name out before his lips wrap around the head of my cock, and his tongue claims that drop of precum he worked so hard to create. My nuts want to follow the suction all the way up through my shaft. I need to finish my sentence before I come in his mouth.
“Remy, lie down. I’ll get you now.”
He draws off but shakes his head. Why is he shaking his head?
Holding my gaze, he places a hand on my knee and shuffles around my legs. I just went from being out of commission to being in dire need. Please don’t tell me he’s changed his mind. His cock looks just as engorged as mine does right now.
He swings a leg over me and plants his knee on the other side of my hips, straddling me. Biting his lip, he reaches back and presses my cock between his cheeks. Fuck. He’s so warm there. His hips arch, dragging my length through his seam.
“This okay?” he whispers.
Is he kidding me? I run my hands up his thighs and squeeze his hips.
“Very okay.”
How stupid was I, thinking I had to be this big, tough guy who takes charge all the time? I thought that’s what he saw me as in college, so that’s what I tried to give him. I was so ignorant about so many things, sex being one of them.
Remy straddling me? Looking like he’s drunk on the idea of riding me and taking what he wants? Yeah. I am definitely okay with that.
Bending down, he leans in to kiss me as he angles my cock against his entrance. “If something hurts again and you don’t tell me, I swear to God, I’ll twist one of your nipples off. Okay?” he warns, circling his index finger around one of mine.
“Okay,” I laugh, holding up a hand in surrender.
“Good.”
His smile presses against mine, the tip of his tongue licking the seam of my mouth. I feel him pulse against the tip of my cock, the tight pucker kissing me at the same time he does. And then, he presses back.
His body squeezes my tip, drawing me into a tight sleeve of slickened heat.
Remy blinks, his mouth parted enough that I can see his teeth pressed together.
Spots of pink pop up on his neck and cheeks as I knead his hip and thigh, feeling utterly useless and yet spoiled as all hell.
He feels so damn incredible. Each centimeter he takes me shoves the pressure to my balls, which are crying to force it in the opposite direction.
“Chris,” he gasps.
His chest heaves. A flood of breath rains down on me.
With a determined look in his gaze, he rocks, capturing more of me.
Oh, God. I try to breathe through the pressure of his channel’s hug.
My fingertips are probably leaving bruises on his thighs.
Hand pressed against my chest, he rocks again, and I feel the soft shell of his ass brush against my thighs.
Eyes slipping closed, he moans long and guttural. Fucking hell.
“Remy…you’re not real. How are you real?” I choke, a well of emotions threatening tears.
His eyes flutter open, mouth panting. He smooths his hand over my heart with something a lot like gratitude in his eyes, and then he moves. Slow undulations of his hips, his body pumping me, his movements pull incoherent sounds from my throat.
He’s so handsome and sweet, perfect in every way.
And he wants me. Me! The rhythm is like making love in slow motion compared to how we used to mess around.
It’s as though time has stopped and I’m in a dreamlike state, one where the focal point is every micro-expression on Remy’s face and the heady sounds he’s making as he stares into my eyes.
This is really our do-over, this time we’ve spent together.
It’s really happening. He’s really mine.
I’m so damn gone for him; he can do whatever he wants with me. I just hope it’s for a very long time.
“Shit. Oh, shit,” I grit, the ache to release becoming the equivalent of a migraine in my balls. “Slow down. I’m—”
“Let go,” he cuts me off, bending down and cradling the back of my head. His lips drag over mine, and he whispers again, “Just let go. I want to feel you.”
My hips jerk without permission, my body obeying his sweet request. My cock makes up for the lack of use, pulsing so hard it makes me dizzy as I release into him.
I have to blink through the spots in my vision, so I don’t miss his reaction.
What I see only makes the weight of bliss more overpowering.
Mouth parted, his gaze looks drunk, as though I’m giving him an indescribable gift.
My sweaty palm fumbles between us, taking him in my grasp.
He groans, his eyes slipping closed. His cock is slick with dribbles of precum.
I stroke through it, spreading it as I go until he jerks in my hand and his ring clenches around me.
“Yes. Yesss,” I pant, watching his head fall, a broken cry spilling out of him along with his release.
He moans my name and then whimpers it. Every nerve ending in my body sings at the sound. I use the last strength in my sapped appendages to pull him to me. We’re a pile of hot skin sticking to hot skin and winded, satisfied noises.
“It’s probably good we…haven’t been doing that…for fifteen years,” he pants against my chest, slipping onto his side next to me. “One of us would have had a heart attack.”
My tired laugh pulls me out of the darkness behind my heavy eyelids. “Just one of us, huh?” I tease, giving him a kiss.
“Me. One of us is me.” His hips shift away from my thigh, the air cooling the damp skin where his cock was sticking to it. “Shit. Sorry. I’ll go grab something.”
I roll with a grunt, putting him half under me to get him on his back and give him another kiss. “No. Stay. I’ll go.”
I get my feet on the floor and rise. My muscles feel as pliable as chewed bubble gum as I tromp to the bathroom.
Hell, I think I might sleep like a brick tonight.
Glancing back, I find Remy propped against a pillow, exhausted and smiling.
He looks so happy and satisfied. I feel like a man, a whole man, for the first time in my life.
Ironically, I don’t think it has anything to do with sex.
I think it’s because he’s looking at me like I’m his.