CHAPTER SIXTEEN #2
I obliged, pulling him close and swallowing his tongue.
We wrestled for control of the kiss, whether because we were monstrously excited or the need to spar was too urgent to ignore.
If we couldn’t snipe at each other with words, then battling for control of each other's mouths was the next best thing.
He got brave and sucked on my tongue. I scrambled to get him undressed while trying to stay where I was.
He broke away, shrugged out of his puffer, then struggled with the buttons of his flannel.
I popped them, one by one, casting him a heated glance.
He was as desperate for this as I was but taking the time to actually enjoy each other was more important than rushed orgasms.
When I’d gotten the shirt off him, he wrapped his arms around me and rested his head against my shoulder. I held him tight, kissed his head and savored having him here with me on a cold winter’s day. This wasn't just about sex, but comfort.
He busied his hands at my jeans, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. His eyes were dark, unfocused, his long sooty lashes hooded as he looked at me with all the heat of an inferno.
“Be more comfortable in bed?” I rasped. I was stone hard, my cock pushing against my jeans.
He got up and pulled me to my feet then into his kiss.
I swooned, sure I’d face-plant it. Of all the sex I’d had, I’d never felt like I was going to pass out from the sheer need.
Everything about Matteo was a magnet, from his sultry lips and beguiling eyes to his elegant fingers and sarcastic words.
I learned so much about him and what was important to him today, now I was desperate to know his body.
We stumbled into my bedroom, his hands playing at my jeans. He laughed against my lips when we crashed into the door jamb. We eventually made it to the bed, and he pushed me onto the mattress.
Climbing on top of me, he returned to my lips and if all I got to do was kiss him for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.
He sat back against my hips and slid his t-shirt off his head.
He had a great body, slim with a flat belly and dark discs for nipples.
I slid my hand up his stomach, past his rib cage and into the light dusting of dark hair between his pecs.
My shirt was next and he didn’t waste a minute, his hands all over me, touching, caressing, groping.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, skimming his fingers across my peck. When he hit my nipple, I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped my lips. “Do you like to be touched here?”
“Yeah,” I croaked, my voice cracking. It was at this moment that I accepted I was in trouble because this wasn’t just sex. Not for me, anyhow and I didn’t have the courage to ask if it was more for him too. If I were smart, I’d stop this train right now.
He sucked his bottom lips between his teeth, his eyes on my body. “Can I…kiss you here?”
I couldn’t respond, his sweet words sinking into my system and stroking me in all the right ways. He leaned in anyway, kissed my nipple gently, sending a shiver through me. He did the same to the other.
I rasped, “Take my cock out, I’m dying here. Too tight.”
His eyes flared and he sat back. He reached into my pants and freed me, the expression of sheer amazement on his face. I was standing straight up in the air, the rod throbbing with every beat of my heart.
“See?” he whispered. “You’re crazy for me.”
“Shut up, brat and get over here.” I didn’t give him an opportunity to respond.
I flipped him over, cut off his words with a claiming kiss, and pushed my cock against the rough denim of his thigh. He moaned into my mouth, his hands all over my back, clawing and grabbing.
Clothes were discarded off to the side, a sock hanging off my lamp.
The sounds of our smacking lips and his breathy little moans made for our own kind of music.
He pushed his leg between my thighs, and I hooked my knee around his hip to keep him from getting away.
We couldn’t get close enough. We were desperate to crawl into each other's skin and never leave.
I positioned our cocks against each other and nipped at his throat. We grinded against each other, our breaths joining, our skin slick with sweat.
He threw his head back. “Fuck…”
“Mhm,” I murmured and kissed my way up his jaw and sucked his earlobe into my mouth.
I’d missed this so much. Not necessarily the sex, but the intimacy. Just being close to someone without anything between us.
He came first, his cries filling my little room and covering my hand and hips with hot ropes of cream.
He clung to me, leaving little nail prints in my skin as if he couldn’t believe it could feel so good.
I quickly followed and when he locked his mouth around my nipple, I couldn’t help the sound that escaped my lips.
We held each other for a long while as we returned to Earth, sticky and satiated. The journey had been a long time coming.
When I found the strength to pull myself out of bed, I cleaned us up with a washcloth then settled in next to him with a joint. As he ran his finger all over my chest, I puffed at the blunt, the marijuana loosening me and making everything beautiful.
“Let me try,” he said and took the blunt from me. “How do I do it?”
“Just inhale. But not too deeply,” I said.
He followed my directions, coughed a little bit then released his breath. After a long stretch of silence, he said, “I feel funny. Sleepy. Really nice, actually.”
A chill breeze slipped under the opened window, and he tugged a blanket over us. I extinguished the blunt on the sill and snuggled him.
“What are you thinking about?” I inquired.
“My grandmother,” he said, his breath brushing across my pecs. “Probably not the ideal time, but I really miss her.”
“Tell me about her.”
He smiled on a breath and moved so that he was over me.
His eyes sparkled. “She was amazing. You’d like her.
She was very classy and a little old-fashioned, but the kindest person I’d ever known.
She was the type of Christian that believed Christ is love and we should care for our neighbors, even if they didn’t believe. ”
“Sounds like she did her job as a grandmother,” I said lightly. “My own died before I was born and my grandpappy was senile by the time I was two so my memories of them are limited.”
“I’m not sure I’d be the person I am today without her support and love,” he said with a note of sadness.
He talked about her at length, regaling me with stories of how she’d met her husband working as a blues club pianist in the fifties.
He seemed very charmed by the idea of a well-off woman defying the expectancy of the times in which she’d lived and following her passions.
He went into length about her traveling the world and seeing wondrous things and how he’d dreamed of playing in some of the great concert halls she’d been to.
“She sounds like she was a very special woman,” I said.
“She was the best kind of person. I want to tell you more about her, but right now, I think we have unfinished business.”
I cocked a brow at him. “What’s that?”
He grinned, licked his lips, and I glanced down at our bodies to find him playing with his cock. “Round two, huh? Told you that you can’t keep your hands off me.”
“Oh, shut up,” he hissed and kissed me again.