Chapter 17 #2
He reached for me, and I went willingly, gratefully, settling against his big body with a sense of rightness that made my throat tight.
His mouth found mine, and we kissed slowly, thoroughly, without the frantic urgency of earlier kisses.
This was deeper. More intentional. This was us in his bed with the whole night stretched out ahead and no reason to stop, no reason to hold anything back, and the magnitude of that—the permission and promise of it—sent butterflies fluttering through my stomach.
My hand slid under his shirt, palm flat against the warm skin of his stomach.
Heat radiated from him, and his muscles jumped and flexed under my touch.
His breath caught against my lips. His skin was soft over hard muscle, and I traced the contours of his abs with my fingertips, feeling the line of hair that trailed down from his navel—surprisingly soft.
He shivered under my touch, and his hands tightened on my waist before sliding up my sides, his callused palms rough and warm against my ribs.
Every point of contact felt charged: his hard chest pressed against mine, our legs tangling together, the way his fingers traced my spine and made me arch into him.
I could taste the mint of his toothpaste, feel the soft scratch of his beard, hear the way his breathing had gone ragged and uneven.
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could feel it, and I wanted to press closer, wanted to memorize the weight of him, the heat of him, the way my body responded to his like it had been waiting for this all along.
“Okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.” His voice was rough. “More than okay.”
I explored cautiously, learning the terrain of his body through touch.
Everything differed from touching women.
Harder where they’d been soft. All muscle and bone and strength.
His chest hair was rough under my fingers, his skin textured differently, his scent spicy instead of sweet.
His body responded to my touch in ways that were new and fascinating and intensely arousing.
“Can I…” I tugged at his shirt.
He sat up enough to pull it off, and then he was bare-chested in the dim light from the bedside lamp. I’d seen him shirtless before—locker rooms, practices, the shower. But this was different. This was permission to look, to touch, to want.
I ran my hand over his chest, feeling the solid muscle, the rough hair, the differences from my own body in subtle ways. His nipples peaked under my touch and his breath hitched.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, meaning it.
“I’m not—”
“You are.” I kissed him again, my hand still exploring. “To me, you are.”
He pulled me closer and suddenly we were pressed together, skin against skin, and the sensation was overwhelming. Different from anything I’d experienced before. The flex of firm muscles beneath my hands, the solid planes of his body, the unfamiliar angles and textures.
His hand slid down my back, fingers tracing my spine, and I shivered.
“Okay?” he asked, echoing my question from earlier.
“Yeah. Really okay.” I kissed his jaw, his neck, exploring the landscape of him. “Is this—are you okay with this?”
“étienne, I’ve been thinking about this for days. Weeks. Years. I’m very okay with this.”
Relief flooded through me. “Okay. Good.”
He was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing absent patterns on my arm. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“How do you feel about this? About us going from best friends to… this?” He gestured at the bed, at us tangled together under the sheets. “It’s a big shift.”
I thought about it. “Honestly?” I turned to face him. “It feels like the most natural thing in the world. Like we were always heading here, and I just didn’t know it yet.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His hand moved lower, resting on my hip, and I felt the heat of it through the thin fabric of my sleep pants. His proximity, his touch, everything about this moment got me hard and throbbing for him.
“Your foot. We don’t have to—” I started.
“I’m fine. But you should probably take it slow. This is your first time with a man.” He pulled back enough to look at me, his dark eyes serious. “You should probably get used to it before we go any further.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted everything. All of it. But he was probably right that I needed to process what we were doing.
“Take your time,” he said. “Get to know yourself. Explore what it’s like to be with a guy.”
Relief and affection flickered through me.
We settled back into kissing, touching, learning each other through hands and mouths and the slide of skin against skin. I explored the terrain of his chest, his shoulders, the muscles of his back. Found the places that made him gasp and moan and pull me closer.
He did the same for me, his hands mapping my body with thoughtful attention, learning what I liked, what made me react.
His hand slid lower, over my hip, close to my erection. My dick ached to be touched, but I caught his wrist. “Not yet,” I murmured. “Just—this is good. This is enough for tonight.”
He withdrew his hand and kissed me. “No problem. Take your time. We’ll ease into it and do this right.” He settled me against him, my head on his chest, his arms around me. “This is good. Being here with you. That’s enough.”
I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Yeah. It is.”
We lay there in the quiet darkness, our breathing gradually slowing, the urgency fading into something softer. His hand traced lazy patterns on my back. My fingers drew circles on his chest, and his heartbeat with a steady thump beneath my ear.
“Thank you,” I said eventually.
“For what?”
“For being patient. For not pushing. For being you.”
“I should be thanking you.” His voice was warm with affection. “You have no idea what this means to me. Having this. Having you.”
I tilted my head up to kiss him, slow and sweet. “I think I have some idea.”
We settled back down, woven together, the lamp still casting soft light across the room. I should get up and turn it off. Should adjust the covers properly. Should do a dozen small things.
But I didn’t want to move and lose this closeness, this warmth, this perfect contentment.
“étienne?” Marco’s voice was sleepy.
“Yeah?”
“I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I tightened my arms around him. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”