23. Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Once inside, it all hits me. My designer had sent me a few photos, but they didn’t do it justice.
I check the fridge and just like she said it would be, it’s full.
The pantry’s stocked too. Pots and pans hang on the rack above the island.
Plates and bowls are stacked in the cabinets, along with all types of glasses.
I wander around the open-concept living room as Hudson pokes around the kitchen, looking at the food.
I find the note from my designer on the coffee table, next to a couple remotes, including one for the fireplace.
I turn it on, grinning when it lights up instantly and casts a gorgeous glow on the room.
I hear Hudson approach me from behind and I turn to look at him.
“So, uh… do you want the house tour?” I ask, my smile widening.
Hudson stalks closer to me with a smirk.
“Nope,” he says, his presence forcing me to back up a bit toward the oversized armchair. Seriously, it’s huge. I swear you can fit two people on this thing.
“Hudson…” I say, watching his gaze shift to something darker. “What are you doing?”
He shakes his head as I stop against the edge of the chair, my knees hitting the cushion.
I brace my hand on the arm. At this angle, all I can see is the giant Christmas tree which is as tall as the damn window and blocks out most of it.
The amber glow of the fire casts shadows on his form and he’s no longer in his coat.
“Don’t overthink it,” he says as he settles a hand on my hip and pushes me back. I fall into the chair with ease, going down with a soft thud.
I scoot back in the chair, giving him ample room as he lowers himself down, the motion making him look like a damn lion stalking its prey.
And that’s when I realize that’s exactly what he’s doing.
I glance up at him with a stupid grin. My hands find his hips as I pull him down on top of me and he comes down quickly, straddling me.
Before I can say a word, his lips crash against mine, one hand already deftly working at popping the button on my pants and I’m more than impressed that he manages to not only unbutton and unzip me with one hand, but finds my cock through the slit of my boxers without any fumbling at all.
He told me he doesn’t have any experience with men, and I don’t either, but I swear Hudson touches me with such precision, it’s like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“I missed you,” he rasps out.
“Hudson…” I groan, my cock hardening as his mouth slowly moves against mine, as his tongue slides into my mouth with equal hunger. I thrust myself up against him, needing to feel the friction. Needing to feel the release.
Needing to feel him.
My hands slide down his hips, over his ass.
I pull him a little closer, my fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and his tight underwear.
My palm brushes over his ass and I squeeze it, loving the firmness and how my nails dig into his skin.
I push him against me as I grind against him faster.
My heart catches in my throat as he wraps his hand around my cock, the tip of his finger pressing against my slit as a fresh bout of precum blooms at my cockhead.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice husky and stern.
I shake my head vigorously.
“Fuck no,” I say as I push his pants down. It takes a couple tries to get them down enough to free his cock and he presses himself against me, letting go of my cock as I reach for his.
“No,” he says gruffly, moving my hand away. I tense, worried I did something wrong, but—
Hudson drops to his knees as he works to pull my pants off completely. Time stops as I look at him like this—wearing nothing but his long-sleeve shirt, his thick, veiny cock standing out on display. Those amber eyes full of absolutely unbridled lust.
“I missed you,” he growls again, palming his cock as he stares up at me with a dark gaze that makes my blood rush and my cock twitch.
Holy fuck. He’s so fucking hot right now.
“I missed you, too, baby.” The word falls out of my mouth without warning, and I worry he’s going to freak out or something.
“Say that again,” he commands. His voice is firm and smooth and way too sexy.
I swallow nervously as he leans forward and pushes my legs apart. He slides his hands beneath my thighs and pulls me forward, until my ass is suspended just over the edge of the cushion.
“I—”
“Say it. Again,” he demands, his nails digging into my skin.
“I missed you too.” I suck in a breath. “Baby.”
He smirks up at me before he grabs my cock and wraps his lips around it. My entire body goes tight. My fingers seek purchase for something to grab. From this position, his head is a little too far for me to grab his hair, and so I have to settle on the arm of the chair.
“Oh fuck, Hudson!” I cry out, already feeling my orgasm building.
He groans around my cock and the sound makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode.
I close my eyes, unable to fight the overwhelming ecstasy as his other hand cradles my balls and starts to play with them.
His thumb swiftly brushes the edge of my hole as his other hand strokes my shaft.
He kisses and sucks my cockhead, pressing his tongue into my slit. I nearly jump off the damn chair.
“Oh my God!” My breaths come in fast and hard. He stops.
I groan.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and I see the worry in his face. My cheeks flush, my cock throbs, still in his hand.
I nod vehemently.
“I don’t know what you just did, but fuck, that felt so good,” I moan, nearly collapsing back on the chair. “I thought I was going to come right there—” I try to catch my breath as something shifts in his eyes. Something mischievous.
“Hmmm,” he murmurs.
My cock aches, precum spilling out the tip as this unfathomable desperation ricochets through me. I look down at him, at his wicked gaze, his perfect, pouty lips.
My throat gets all tight and my heart starts beating like a damn drum as I wait for him to touch me, to bring the relief I so desperately need.
He dives back in, squeezing my cock as he sucks on the head again. Once again, he cradles my balls, his thumb brushing the edge of my hole, hovering there as his tongue laves over my leaking slit, and then I feel it.
The sensation is like a touchdown tackle.
Hudson’s tongue presses into my slit, forcing it to stretch just a little to accommodate him and at the very same time he presses the edge of his thumb into my hole and my orgasm wrecks me.
“Fuck! I’m coming!” I hiss, unable to control my voice, my spurting cock, or the way my entire body goes numb.
Hudson doesn’t stop. My eyes fall shut and I feel the same unbelievable high I’d felt after the office fiasco.
Like I am flying past the clouds and soon I’m going to crash. Hard.
“Huds…” I breathe out as he groans around my cock, licking the remnants of my release as he slows his motion. My hand finds his hair and I run my fingers through the silky locks.
“I—” I gasp, sucking in a breath. “I think I…”
The words stick in my throat, not because I don’t want to say them, but because I do.
My head is hazy and my body feels like it’s buzzing and a deep, intense sort of emotion floods me.
I think I love you. Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My breath slows as Hudson moves from his spot, carefully pulling up my boxers and my pants. I feel him move my body, but once again it’s like an out of body experience.
“Trey…” His voice is thick, raspy.
“Yeah?” I say weakly, euphoria making my lips split into an ecstatic grin. I moan in contentment.
“You okay?” he asks, sounding a little concerned.
“Fucking great,” I say, my heart still going like a damn hummingbird. “Thanks.”
I hear his faint laugh, and the tension and worry melts away.
When I come back down from the damn ceiling and open my eyes, I see Hudson, pulling up his sweatpants over his hips. I groan in defeat.
“What about you?” I ask, my voice drenched in absolute blissful exhaustion.
“Later,” he says firmly as he sits next to me. We both fit, but it’s a little tight. Hudson’s a big guy.
I slide one arm around his hip and pull him close, burying my face in the crook of his neck.
I breathe in his crisp rainy scent and soak up his warmth, and for a moment, we just stay there, me pressed against him.
His arm around my shoulders. His shirt in my fist. I close my eyes as exhaustion hits its peak.
After a long flight, and an overdue orgasm, I feel like I could pass out for two weeks, period.
And then I hear it. Ever so faint and soft, but undeniable, nonetheless.
A click .
And another.
And another.
“Stop,” I whine. “You don’t need six pictures of the same thing,” I tease him as I open my heavy-lidded eyes.
Hudson stares down at me as he uses his knuckle to shift my chin up and then he kisses me.
I lose myself in the moment, in his kiss, the after-taste of my cum on his tongue, his knuckles grazing against my neck. I bring my hand up to his throat and slide my fingers in his hair.
Click.
Click.
Click.
He pulls me closer and I kiss his neck, right over that spot I know drives him fucking crazy.
Click. Click. Click.
Hudson groans and pushes me back into the chair, his heavy body pinning me as he pinches my nipple through my shirt and I nearly jump off the chair.
“Fuck! You asshole!” I yell.
Click. Click. Click.
Hudson laughs as I push him back and straddle his lap, kissing him until it feels like I can’t breathe.
When I pull away, I see his smile and I grab his phone out of his hand.
Click .
“I win,” I say, biting his lower lip as I toss the phone across the room, knowing I won’t need this picture, because I’ll remember this moment—coming home to my house with Hudson, my boyfriend , my best friend—for the first time, forever.