14. Leo #3
He came with his hands in my hair and a stifled cry on his lips. I swallowed every last drop of his cum because I meant what I said. It tasted good. He tasted good. In fact, he tasted better than anyone else ever had.
I pressed my lips to the inside of his thigh and waited.
For a long moment there was nothing but his breathing, deep and uneven, and the rain, and the candle flame bending in some imperceptible draft.
Then his hand, still in my hair, loosened into something gentle. His fingers moved slowly through my hair, once, twice, with a tenderness that made my heart ache.
“Come here,” he said. His voice was low and absolutely wrecked.
I moved back up the length of him and he pulled me in without hesitation, his arm coiling around me possessively. His mouth found my temple, my jaw, then the corner of my mouth.
“I haven’t had one of those in years,” he said at last.
“Happy to help,” I replied. And I meant it.
His chest moved under my cheek as he laughed and his arm tightened around me.
“Can I… Can I help you?” he asked, almost timidly. Then added quickly, “With like my hand or something?”
“If you want to—”
“I do,” he said before I could finish.
With no small amount of strength, Alex pulled me up into his lap so I was seated between his legs. He wrapped one arm around my chest, pulling me tight against him as his lips found my neck. His other hand snaked around my waist and grasped my cock, stroking me slowly.
I leaned back against him, allowing myself to be taken over by the pleasure coursing through my body.
His hand was warm and sure around me, moving with a confidence I hadn’t expected from a man who’d claimed not to know what he was doing.
Maybe he was a fast learner. Maybe some things didn’t require instructions.
Maybe it was just home turf advantage. Either way, it felt good, and that was all that mattered.
I let my head fall back against his shoulder and focused on breathing.
His lips were still working at the side of my neck, slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world and intended to use it.
His arm across my chest was heavy and solid and reassuring.
Everything about the way he was holding me felt deliberate.
Possessive in exactly the way he’d described at dinner that first night.
I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t thought about those words every day since the moment he said them.
Someone who wants you so fucking bad that the thought of letting another person touch you drives them mad.
He tightened his grip and I exhaled sharply.
“Okay?” he murmured against my neck.
“Mm-hmm,” I managed.
He made a low sound of satisfaction that I felt more than heard, a vibration in his chest against my back. His hand slowed deliberately, which I was fairly certain was intentional cruelty, and I shifted my hips without meaning to.
“Don’t stop,” I said.
“I’m not stopping.” His voice was rough and close against my ear. “I’m learning.”
That alone made my cock throb in his grasp.
He moved his hand again, finding a rhythm that was slower than I wanted and more perfect than I could have described.
I gripped his forearm with both hands not to direct him but just to hold on.
The candlelight threw long shadows up the old plaster walls.
The rain was still going steadily outside, patient and even.
His mouth found the curve between my neck and shoulder and stayed there, pressing open kisses against my skin in a way that seemed exploratory. Like he was discovering that he liked it as he went. His stubble dragged against me and I shivered.
“Alex.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just wanted to say it.”
A beat of silence. Then his arm tightened across my chest, pulling me harder against him, and he pressed his teeth to the side of my throat and held them there.
I came quietly, the way I always did. Not with a cry or a shout, but with a long slow shudder that moved through me from the base of my spine outward as his name fell from my lips.
His hand worked me through all of it, steady and unhurried, my cum spilling over his fist. He continued stroking until I went still and heavy against him and the only sound in the room was the rain and the two of us breathing.
He didn’t let go.
For a long moment neither of us moved. His arm stayed around my chest. His chin came to rest at my temple. I could feel his heartbeat against my back, still faster than normal, and I found that deeply satisfying.
“Alex,” I said quietly, after a while.
“Mm.”
“Are you okay?”
There was a long pause.
“I… I don’t know yet.”
I closed my eyes, too blissed out to worry about the future just yet. He wasn’t running out of the room in terror, so that, at the very least, was a good sign.
The candle burned low on the table beside us. The old house settled around us, its stone walls breathing, its old floors ticking in the quiet. Somewhere in the garden below, the last of the rain was dripping from the lemon trees onto the flagstone, one slow drop at a time.
I stayed where I was and let myself feel it. All of it. I hadn’t been held like this in a very long time.
Maybe ever.