Chapter 15 #2
The kiss was nothing like before, nothing like teeth and anger and the sharp edge of wanting. His mouth was soft against mine, and his hands were still holding my face like I was something fragile, something worth being careful with.
I kissed him back and my hands found his waist, his hips. I pulled him closer and bit his lower lip, not hard, just enough to feel him shiver. He made a sound against my mouth and I soothed it with my tongue, licking where I'd bitten.
This I could learn. Bite, then kiss it better. Take, then give back.
His mouth moved against mine, unhurried, and I matched his pace. My hands slid under his shirt and up his spine, feeling the muscles shift under his skin. He arched into the touch, and I scraped my nails down his back, light enough to tease, then pressed my palms flat and pulled him against me.
"Bedroom," he said against my mouth. "Now."
He took my hand and led me down the hall.
The bedroom was small and dark. He pulled the blinds closed, shutting out the last of the streetlight, and then he was back in front of me with his hands on the buttons of my shirt.
"Let me," he said.
We undressed each other in pieces, his mouth following his hands to press against each new inch of skin.
Every time one of us bit or scratched, the other soothed it after.
I was learning a new language, one where rough and gentle weren't opposites, and it terrified me how much I wanted to be fluent.
By the time we were both naked, I was shaking. No one had ever undressed me like I mattered.
He stepped back and looked at me in the darkness. I let my eyes travel down his body, didn't try to hide what I wanted.
I followed him onto the bed. His legs wrapped around my hips and I kissed him deep, grinding down against him just to hear the sound he made. His nails raked down my back and I groaned into his mouth.
I pulled back and pressed my lips to his jaw, his throat, the spot below his ear. He tilted his head to give me room, and I bit down on the tendon of his neck, then licked the sting away. His hips jerked up against mine.
"Joel." His voice was wrecked. "Fuck."
I kissed the spot I'd bitten and moved lower, my mouth tracing down his chest. I took my time with him the way he'd taken his time with me, learning what made him gasp, what made him arch off the bed.
When I bit his hip bone, he swore and grabbed my hair.
When I kissed it softly, he loosened his grip and stroked my scalp instead.
Give and take. Teeth and tenderness.
I crawled back up his body and kissed him. He wrapped his legs around my hips and pulled me down against him, our cocks sliding together, and a sound escaped my throat that I couldn't hold back.
I reached between us and wrapped my hand around both of us, stroking us together. Red's breath caught and his hips jerked forward, and the slide of his cock against mine made my vision blur at the edges.
"I want to be inside you," I said.
"Yeah." His voice had gone rough and wrecked. "Yeah, okay."
He reached for the nightstand and pressed a bottle into my hand.
We were face to face now, his eyes on mine, and there was nowhere to hide. Every other time I'd done this, I'd made sure not to look. Easier that way. But Red was watching me like he wanted to see everything, and I couldn't make myself look away.
I settled between his legs and he hooked his ankles behind my thighs, pulling me closer. I slicked my fingers and reached between us, circling him before pressing inside. His eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted, and I wanted to memorize every detail.
"Look at me," I said.
His eyes opened. I held his gaze while I worked my finger in and out, adding a second when his body relaxed. The stretch made him gasp, and his hands gripped my shoulders hard enough to bruise.
I curled my fingers and found the spot that made him cry out. I swallowed the sound with my mouth, kept stroking that same place, and his hips started rocking against my hand.
"Another," he managed. "Please."
I added a third finger, and his whole body shuddered. His muscles clenched around me and his cock was leaking against his stomach, and I wanted to stay like this, wanted to watch him fall apart under my hands for as long as he'd let me.
"Joel." His nails dug into my shoulders. "I'm ready."
I pulled my fingers out and rolled on a condom, slicked myself up. He was watching my face, his eyes dark and open.
I lined up and pushed inside.
The heat of him surrounded me inch by inch. I went as slow as I could, giving him time to feel everything, and his mouth fell open as I sank deeper. When I was all the way inside I stopped, my hips flush against him, and pressed my forehead to his.
His heart was pounding against my chest. Mine was matching it beat for beat.
"Okay?" I asked.
"Yeah." His voice was barely a whisper. "God, Joel, I missed this."
I started to move, long and deep, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in. His legs tightened around me and his hands slid down my back, and every thrust was slow, unhurried. Every inch of him surrounded me, gripping me, pulling me back in.
I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in: salt and skin and cheap soap. I kissed his throat, open-mouthed, tasting his pulse under my tongue. He tilted his head to give me more room, and I closed my mouth over the spot where his heartbeat was pounding and sucked gently.
The sound he made vibrated through both of us.
His hands tightened on my back, pulling me deeper, and I sucked harder.
I wanted to leave a mark. I wanted him to see it tomorrow and remember this, remember me, remember what it was like when I let myself be something other than sharp edges and control.
"Joel." His voice was breathless. "Don't stop."
I kept my mouth on his throat, licking and sucking at the tender skin while I moved inside him. His hips rolled up to meet every stroke and his cock was trapped between our stomachs, slick with pre-cum. His body tightened around me, and his breathing went ragged, and I knew he was close.
I lifted my head just enough to see his face. His eyes were half-closed, his lips swollen, his cheeks flushed. I reached between us and wrapped my hand around his cock, stroking him in time with my hips.
"Joel... fuck," he gasped.
My own orgasm was building at the base of my spine, but I held it back, focused on the way his face was changing, the way his body was starting to shake.
He came with my name on his lips, spilling over my fist and onto his stomach. His muscles clenched around me so tight I couldn't breathe, and I worked him through it until he whimpered from the overstimulation.
I buried myself deep, and the orgasm washed through me. I groaned against his throat as I spilled into him, kept rocking until there was nothing left.
I collapsed on top of him. His arms came around me and held me there, his chest heaving under mine.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
I nodded against his neck. My voice wouldn't come. There was something lodged in my throat, something that might have been a sob if I let it out, and I swallowed hard against it.
His hand came up to stroke my hair. My breathing slowed, my body going heavy against him.
I should pull out. Clean up. Rebuild the distance between us.
I didn't move. I didn't want to.
His hand kept moving through my hair and my eyes closed. I was still inside him, my face pressed against his throat, and I fell asleep before I could stop myself.
I woke to gray light and Red's hand on my shoulder.
"Joel." His voice was tight. "Joel, wake up."
The room came into focus slowly. Red's apartment. Red's bed. He was already up and out of reach.
"What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. He was standing by the mirror on the back of his closet door, twisting to see his neck in the dim morning light.
I sat up and my stomach dropped when I saw the dark purple hickey on his throat.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" He spun around and his eyes were wide, panicked in a way I'd never seen from him. "I have morning skate in two hours. I have to be in a locker room with twenty guys and they're all going to see this."
"You can say it's from a girl."
"It's on my neck, Joel." His voice cracked. "Right there where everyone can see. They're going to ask who. They're going to want details. And I don't have a girl, I've never had a girl here, and they're going to know I'm lying."
I got out of bed and crossed to him, reaching for his face. He stepped back.
"Don't." His jaw was tight. "Just don't."
"Red."
"I can't—" He pressed his hands against his eyes, and his shoulders were shaking. "You have to go. I need you to go."
The words hit like a fist to the chest. An hour ago he'd been stroking my hair while I fell asleep inside him. Now he couldn't even look at me.
I found my clothes. My hands were steady as I dressed, which surprised me. Something had gone numb, some part of me that knew how to shut down when staying open would hurt too much. I'd learned that trick young. I just hadn't needed it in a while.
He stood by the window with his arms crossed, not looking at me. The mark was visible even from across the room, dark against his pale skin. I'd wanted him to have something to remember me by. I hadn't thought about what it would cost him.
"I'm sorry," I said.
He sighed. "Yeah. Me too."
I stopped at the door. He was still facing the window, one hand pressed against his throat.
"Red."
"Just go, Joel."
The hallway was cold and empty. I found my way to the parking lot and stood there in the gray morning light, pulling up the Uber app.
The nearest driver was eight minutes away.
I waited by the entrance. His blinds were still closed.
The Uber arrived. I got in without looking back.