Jordan
He opens the door for me, and I walk into the beach house.
Once again, I let my eyes move over the space that opens up in front of me.
This place is huge, and there’s a spectacular view of the ocean from where I’m standing.
I take a cursory glance before I turn around, because as much as I like the proximity of the beach, I have an even better view waiting for me.
Milán is leaning back against the door, watching me. Neither of us bothered to turn on the lights, so the room is dim, the only light coming from the moon outside and the Christmas lights still hanging outside the windows.
The day has rushed by.
Neither of us felt like taking too long a trip, so after scrolling through the possible options for a bit, we decided on a random small town on the coast.
We drove down here in the morning and wandered around the whole day.
We went to see the lighthouse and took a long walk on the beach.
It’s off season, so there weren’t a lot of people around—mostly just locals and a handful of people escaping the city for the weekend, like us.
At the beach, the peace and quiet made it feel like we were the only two people in the world.
We had lunch in one of the small restaurants and wandered down the streets, randomly stepping into shops when mood struck or something caught our attention.
The weather is about as perfect as you can hope for in February. Cold, but not unbearably so. The sun was out for most of the day, and every now and then it snowed lightly.
We took a walk on the boardwalk. Milán gathered a handful of snow from the railing and threw it at the back of my head, then laughed like a fucking lunatic when I chased him down the trail to the beach and tackled him into the snow.
Later, we sat on the bench and watched the sunset paint the winter sky purple above the ocean.
He put his arm around me and pulled me against his side.
And everything felt just right, but I almost didn’t even notice because… it’s been just right for a while now.
Just right is my new normal.
We walked back, hand in hand, grabbed dinner to go, then headed back to the house.
We both get changed. Sweats and T-shirts and bare feet. The house is warm, and it’s started snowing outside again. The couch is facing the window, so we settle in with our dinner, takeout boxes in hand and feet on the coffee table.
We eat and talk and laugh. Talk more. Laugh even more.
He takes the empty takeout box from my hands and puts it on the table before he moves closer and wraps his arms around me from behind. He leans his chin on my shoulder, and I listen to him breathe and watch the snow fall outside the window. And I feel ridiculously, incredibly, wonderfully happy.
He slides his hand around the side of my neck, and I turn my head. He kisses me, soft lips covering mine. I’m surrounded by his body and his scent. I relax into the kiss, and for a long time, that’s all we do. Kiss. Kiss until our lips are swollen and calm breaths have become soft moans.
Milán trails kisses down the back of my neck, and a shiver electrifies my skin.
“Bed?” he murmurs. His lips caress the shell of my ear.
I nod. Anticipation is a live wire underneath my skin.
I get up and hold out my hand to him. He grasps it, and I pull him to his feet. He follows me, still holding my hand.
The bedroom has floor-to-ceiling windows with the same ocean and snow view as the living room. There’s a huge bed and a fireplace that Milán turns on from the wall switch.
My heartbeat is loud but steady.
“This might be the most romantic room I’ve ever been in,” I say.
“It’s why I picked it. I’m planning to be memorable.”
I go and wrap my arms around his neck. “You’d be memorable anywhere.”
My fingers card through the hair at the back of his head. His hands slide down my back and sides to my ass. He squeezes it, and there’s a jolt in my chest.
“Turn,” he murmurs into my ear before he gently bites down on the lobe.
I do, and he wraps himself around me from behind.
His lips descend on my neck again, planting kisses down the side and up the back to the nape.
His hands start to move, wandering all over my chest and stomach.
I lean back into him, relaxed and mellow.
Those warm hands slip underneath my shirt, circling my waist.
My eyes drift shut, and I tilt my head to the side to give him better access to my neck. He bites down where my neck meets my shoulder, then licks over the mark he left there.
My toes curl, and my breaths start to come out faster.
I push back into him.
He’s already hard, and my ass against his cock makes him exhale loudly.
“I want you,” he says.
“That’s good,” I say with a soft laugh. “I want you too.”
He kisses my neck again and leans his forehead against the nape of my neck.
“Are we—do you want to?”
I nod. “Yeah.” My voice is hoarse. “All of it. Everything. Anything.”
His fingers tighten on my waist. Another loud exhale whispers over my skin.
He lets go of me and steps back, and I feel the loss immediately.
He walks backward toward the bed. He quirks a brow, grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his sweats and pushes them down along with his underwear.
And then he’s naked.
My throat is thick and air has a hard time getting through as I take him in. His smooth chest and tight abdominal muscles, golden in the firelight. Muscular thighs and long legs. The hollow at his throat. The golden-brown hair at his groin.
His thick cock, standing up proudly.
“Your show,” he says and holds his arms out. “Do anything you want with me.”
I lick my dry lips.
“Anything?” I repeat.
He grins; a wolfish smile I feel everywhere.
“Anything,” he says.
It’s a lot of freedom to give to somebody who’s not quite sure what they’re doing.
I hesitate for a second, and while I do, he raises a brow at me.
What are you waiting for?
I don’t know, to be honest.
I grab the back of my shirt and pull it over my head. His eyes wander up and down my chest, and he licks his lips.
“Go on,” he says.
I push my pants down, and my cock springs up to slap against my abdomen.
“Oh, fuck,” Milán says in a strained voice that makes me smile. “This is a very good start.”
I let out a dizzy laugh. “Is it?”
He nods, eyes shining, the firelight playing over his body.
It takes me a moment to get my feet to move. I walk over to the bed and slide my fingertips over his calf. His leg twitches, and I smile.
I climb onto the bed and lie down on top of him.
He closes his eyes for a second and lets out a loud exhale.
“Christ,” he says. He nuzzles my neck. “You always smell so good. It turns my dick hard.”
I laugh breathlessly. “You were already hard.”
“Hard-er. Semantics.”
I laugh again. I’m floating on air. “It’s sandalwood.”
“How do you make that sound hot?”
“It’s a gift.”
I lower my head and breathe him in, letting my lips slide over his cheek and temple.
“Let me make you feel good,” I murmur.
His hand moves through my hair, stroking it, tugging it.
“Anything you want,” he says.
I don’t need any more encouragement. Instead, I move my hand lower and cup his hard cock.
He lets out another shaky exhale, and his hips immediately push up, forcing his cock deeper into my fist.
I move down his body and take him in my mouth in one swift move. Milán lets out a low moan and throws his head back. His hands are still in my hair, and he raises his knees, spreading his thighs.
I wrap my fingers around him and press the flat of my tongue against the head of his cock. A drop of precum pushes out of the slit, the taste of salt bursting on my tongue.
A sharp inhale makes me look up at him. He’s pushed himself up on his elbows, fire in his gaze.
“Suck,” he says.
My balls tighten at the soft demand and the barely controlled desire in his voice.
I wrap my lips around him and suck.
I worship with my tongue, trying to remember everything I like myself and duplicate it. I lick and lave and suck until his thighs are shaking with tension.
I suck him as deep as I can and savor the feel of his cock sliding over my tongue. Savor the taste.
Wanting him is so easy.
So natural.
A part of me didn’t think it would be.
It is.
Being with him feels more natural than anything else in my life ever has.
I cup his balls while my head bobs, sucking him in deep, long strokes. I want to commit all of this to memory. His smell. His taste. The low groans that leave his throat as he gets closer.
“Yes,” he moans. “Yes, Jordy. Yes, fuck. Please.”
His hips jerk forward, and he comes.
His cock throbs in my mouth with every pulse of his release.
I keep sucking him. Greedy for it all. Everything he has to give.
He collapses onto the bed, chest heaving. His softening cock is still in my hand when I lift my head to look at him.
He opens his eyes, swallows, and meets my gaze.
A lazy, satisfied smile plays on his lips.
I start to move up his body.
“Will you fuck me?”
I stop.
Blink.
Will I?
“Yes.”
I let go of his cock and look around, then I lick my lips and glance at him again.
“Lube?”
He looks knowingly at me.
My cheeks heat. “I did some research.”
He grins and points to his bag. “Front pocket.”
I go and get the tube, grabbing one of the condoms as well. I drop them on the bed before I draw in a fortifying breath, nervous for some reason. I want it to be good for him. I think I’m less nervous than I would be, actually, because I have something to concentrate on: making this good for him.
The cap opens with a loud click. I dribble cold lube on my fingers and rub them together for a second before I start spreading the liquid up and down the crease of his ass.
His eyes stay locked with mine, deep and dark blue. He grabs the headboard, muscles flexing, and spreads his legs. I rub over his rim, then I slide a finger inside him.
Our gazes hold, and he clenches around me. I lean down and give his cock a lick. His muscles flex. Biceps strain. He lets out a groan.
My heart hammers in my chest.
He’s still soft, so I can take all of him in my mouth.
“Fucking hell,” he says, and his eyes slam shut for a moment before he pries them open again. “More.”
I add another finger and move them in and out experimentally. He takes one hand off the headboard and buries it in my hair again.
I suck, and his cock gives a lazy twitch on my tongue.
“You’re gonna get me hard again,” he says, voice soft, thumb caressing the corner of my mouth, eyes gentle like I don’t have his cock in my mouth and my fingers in his ass right now.
I’d answer, but my mouth is full, and I find I’m reluctant to change that, so I just quirk my brow at him.
Do you mind?
He chuckles, but it turns into a moan when I lick over the tip.
“Crook your middle finger,” he says in a low voice. I do, and he arches off the bed with a loud curse.
“Goddamn bliss,” he groans.
I suck him harder and rub the pads of both fingers against his prostate. His whole body tightens until every muscle feels like it’s made of iron underneath my touch.
“Fuck,” he pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit. Fuck.”
A flutter of excitement turns into a full-blown tornado. My cock grows so hard it hurts, and my balls tighten painfully.
I add more lube and a third finger.
It doesn’t feel awkward. I’ve never done this, but I know the theory. I’ve done my research. I figured the real thing might end up with me fumbling my way through it, like you do when you’re new at something.
But there’s no awkwardness. Milán lies before me, relaxed, ready for me to do whatever I want with him, and that kind of freedom makes all my inhibitions disappear.
I suck and stroke him until he’s hard again, cursing and writhing. And begging. God, how that man begs.
I move up his body, marking my way up with kisses until my tongue is in his mouth, fingers still stretching him, and he looks me in the eye.
“Please,” he says hoarsely. His eyes slam shut, and the cords of his neck tighten when he throws his head back because I manage to locate his prostate from this angle, too.
I grab the condom and roll it on.
“How do you…” I leave the question unfinished. He’ll fill in the blanks for me.
“Just like this,” he says.
I lie on top of him, one elbow on the mattress next to his head. I grab my aching cock with my other hand and guide it between his ass cheeks.
He’s looking up at me while I push in slowly.
Both our breaths whoosh out once we’re fully connected.
I stay still. Swallow hard.
Overwhelmed.
His body underneath mine is made of heat and pleasure and wild heartbeats. Fingers curl against my back and up into my hair, tugging my head down until we’re kissing. A desperate, open-mouthed kiss with tongues swiping against each other until I can’t keep still any longer.
I keep my first thrusts slow and shallow, but they quickly deepen until our bodies are moving together fluidly, our hips, stomachs, and chests plastered together. He presses his forehead against mine, and I breathe in every moan and gasp of pleasure that moves between us.
My mind is empty of thoughts but full of feelings, chest tight with emotions.
I’m so close.
So close.
“Don’t hold back,” he gasps into my ear.
He reaches between our bodies and takes his cock in his hand. Our chests are slick with sweat, and the room echoes with our combined moans of pleasure.
I push up on one hand, and my body takes over, fucking him harder and faster until I’m mindless and the rising pleasure overwhelms me.
Until release crashes over me and steals my breath while Milán clenches around me.
His cock pulses in his hand and bathes our stomachs with his release, and my whole body trembles and then collapses on top of him, my dick jerking inside him.
He wraps himself around me, and I bury my face in his neck, trying to breathe, trying to be less overwhelmed and not succeeding that well.
It takes me a while to even register his hand in my hair, his fingers lazily combing through the messy strands.
I lift my head and meet his eyes. His hair is a mess, clinging to his forehead, his face still flushed from pleasure. His eyes drill into mine, almost like he’s doing some kind of mental wellness check.
And he’s so goddamn handsome in this moment that I can barely breathe.
I feel too much. Elated. Scared. Just right. All the way terrified. But determined. Dazed. Dizzy.
“Wow,” I say softly.
He wraps himself even more tightly around me.
“Yeah,” he says.
After that neither of us says anything for a long time.