Chapter 8 #2
He sounds so small when he makes this request and it chips another couple of pieces off my heart. I know how hard it is for him to make this request, making himself vulnerable enough to ask anything of me at all. “Of course we can.”
When I get off the couch, I pick him up and take him with me, and he wraps his legs around my waist. It’s very little effort to carry him into my bedroom, the spare one I’ve been living in since I moved back.
Some small part of me is aware that it’s fucked up I’m doing this and breaking the very few boundaries Demi’s asked of me—not bringing anyone back here—but the rest of me doesn’t care.
Because it’s him. And I want him here, in my bed, his scent mixing with mine the way that it should, the way I’ve missed so terribly.
And then I’m not thinking about her at all.
I lay him atop the quilt and lean down, kissing him again as his thighs slide down the sides my hips.
That tiny nagging bit of my consciousness ceases its awareness altogether.
It’s all about the beautiful boy beneath me now, who is writhing against me in a way that is both maddening and enticing, and all the things I wish to do to him. The lost time I have to make up for.
His embrace is a homecoming. It’s where I belong.
“I don’t know if I can,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I mean, if it’ll work.”
I nuzzle the side of his face. “Do you want to stop?”
“No, I mean—I don’t know if I can get off. But it’s not a big deal.” His sad doe eyes blink up at me. “I just want to be with you. In whatever way.”
There’s no way I’m going much further if he’s not even enjoying himself.
The whole point is for him to enjoy himself.
The giving part of our dynamic was what I loved and missed the most, where I derived all my pleasure.
Between what was done to him and what I’ve done to him there’s damage to fix and I am determined to undo it and make this so special for him, for us.
I don’t say any of that, though. I don’t want him to feel any pressure to perform. “Let’s see what happens,” I suggest gently. “We’ll go slow. And if you want to stop, we will. Okay?”
Noel bites his lip and nods. His usual sexy confidence has seemingly deserted him, but that’s alright. I will carry him through this. I do not mind at all.
I kiss my way to the slender and pale column of his throat, where I know he likes to be touched best. Gentle kisses at first, until I gradually introduce tongue and teeth, tasting his pulse where it races beneath his skin.
His breath hitches and his fingers sink into my hair, and he’s saying my name in a breathless sort of way that would make me furiously hard if I wasn’t already.
I’ve got myself pressed against his hip where I know he can feel me, and he’s pressing back.
His leg hitches around my hip to pull me even closer.
“Don’t stop,” Noel whispers in a faint, fluttery voice, as I leave mark after mark on his throat. He’ll wear them like a collar. I should’ve thought about that, his job, but there’s not a single thing I care about right now except us. “Oh, fuck.”
His cropped t-shirt gives me easy access to the flat, soft plane of his stomach, where my fingertips glide upwards and beneath it as he shivers.
Walking up his flank until I reach his perfect pink nipples, and these I tease in turn before I get rid of the shirt altogether.
He wants mine gone too and I grant him that, and it’s so much skin riding on skin as I claim his mouth once more.
My arms snake under him and pull him even closer.
I could do this forever, absolutely. Taste him and touch him forever. Glory in the feel of him against me and the weight of him in my arms, sink into him until I forgot where I ended and he began. It didn’t even matter what we were doing, as long as it was him on me, me on him.
“God, I’ve missed you.” I mumble it into the smooth skin of his abdomen between kisses. “I’ve missed you so damn much.”
Somewhere between all the gasping, I think he tells me he missed me too.
He lifts his hips so I can yank down his shorts over his sharp hipbones and slender thighs, and I kiss along the inside of those, too. Lave my tongue alongside the back of one knee—another spot I know he loves and is a little embarrassed of loving, and that’s something I love.
And, fuck, the sounds he’s making are enough to make me blow my load here and now.
My jeans feel a thousand sizes too small.
He is the sexiest little thing, and he’s coming out of his shell now, finding himself again, hooking a leg over my shoulder and arching up into me as my mouth moves closer and closer to my goal.
Wanting it, asking for it, demanding it.
I palm his stiff cock through his underwear. “There you are,” I whisper.
There’s a wet spot on the tight, satiny fabric, and I thumb the head through it, watching him squirm as I do.
I roll the waistband down and reveal his glorious self slowly, incrementally, until I’m yanking that off him too.
He still has the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen in my life, perfectly shaped where it curves along his tattooed hip, perfectly sized as I wrap my hand around it.
Perfect feel, like velvet in my palm, and the perfect color, rose-tipped alabaster.
Noel’s begging, “Luca. Luca,” reaching for me as I slide up his body, my hand still pumping him, and he clutches my face to his.
My name is a prayer on his lips. It’s beseeching and reverent and it’s asking for everything; he doesn’t need to specify.
I’m tugging off my jeans with my free hand and my tongue is in his mouth, muffling him to whimpers.
I think he tries to tell me he’s close, really close.
I break the kiss. “Keep going?” I murmur against the side of his face. “Or do you want me to fuck you through it?”
“Fuck me,” he requests immediately. “Please.”
I don’t have any condoms. I do have KY in my bedside table of some indeterminate age, and that’ll just have to do.
It feels slick enough when I apply it to my fingers, and when I slide those fingers into Noel, it sends him thrashing across the mattress to the point I have to pin him down so he doesn’t slip away from me.
I listen to him whine as I kiss along the edge of his rose tattoo on his hip, where it is still beautiful and intact, and I watch the pre-come leak out of him and onto his stomach.
My tongue swipes it up, flicks the tip of him and he cries out.
And the lube feels good enough when I wrap my hand around my cock, too. “Think you’re ready for me?” I ask him.
Noel nods.
And my fucking god he’s tight, tight enough that I really have to work my way into him, tight enough that there’s a split second of horror where I don’t know if I’m going to get much further than halfway before I blow and ruin it all, he feels so good.
I lift his hips and that’s a better angle, gets me right where I need to be.
I take a moment to let him adjust and I marvel at the sight of him in the meantime, of me inside him and his slim pale thighs wrapped around me.
“Beautiful.” I whisper it. My hands slide up his lithe body. “You are so beautiful.”
He sucks in his lower lip as his tawny eyes lock onto mine.
His chest rises and falls with his rapid breath, and I feel that too beneath my palms, along with his speeding pulse.
I cup his face and lean down, kissing him, and he returns it ardently.
Like there is no question to what we are, and never was.
Like this is just as real for him as it is for me.
I love him so much. Beautiful boy. Stunt girl.
How could I throw this away?
He feels incredible as I begin moving inside him, slow, taking my time, watching his face and listening to the way his breathing changes with each careful thrust. The quiet, tender moans against my ear as he draws me in close that quickly become strained and urgent when one of my hands finds his cock again.
Then he’s right back to begging, rapid-fire as my thumb traces his slit, his head, the smooth and perfect shaft from top to bottom.
And when he does finally come I feel it, a whole fucking body experience from head to toe as he explodes between us.
There’s so much of it and it’s all over both of us and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, watching him fall apart so spectacularly.
He’s a supernova, shuddering and bucking with his head twisted to the side and his nails clawing my shoulder blades.
It’s my name he’s crying out over and over, and he’s clenching all around me.
I brace myself above him and thrust into him as he unravels.
I go right along with him, riding the tailwind of his orgasm into my own and it’s never, ever been better than this.
Feeling all of him as I empty myself inside him for what feels like an endless amount of time, my breath ragged and my voice hoarse, and I don’t even know what I’m saying, if anything at all. Speaking in tongues as I bow into him.
But it does end.
I’m still buried inside of Noel. My forehead lowers to his and touches it as we both try to catch our breath. It’s all falling away. It’s just us now, really and truly, and nothing else. Barriers down, both of us laid open before each other. It is raw and awful and wonderful. It’s everything.
“I love you,” I whisper, because I do. “I love you.”
Noel’s fingers thread into my hair once more as he closes his eyes, and he rubs his face against mine. I slip out of him and pull him into my arms, where he nestles against my side. He’s not running from me, not shying and pulling away. He’s letting me hold him close.
It’s enough. It’s more than enough.