Eli #3
I nod, dropping my forehead to his shoulder as I ease in deeper, every nerve in my body on fire. His legs shift, wrapping loosely around my waist as he adjusts, and when I finally bottom out, I groan, low and guttural, breathing like I just ran a marathon.
I’m losing my goddamn mind.
There is no other way to describe it. My whole body is overwhelmed by sensation, by closeness, by the knowledge that this is my first time and it is real and chosen and held in Julian’s hands as carefully as anything breakable.
I look down at him and feel my throat close. “I love you, Julian.”
Julian’s face changes completely, those maddening hazel eyes filling up with so much devotion as he looks at me. “I love you too, Eli,” he says, and his voice breaks just enough to undo me.
The first real thrust nearly ends everything immediately.
I stop halfway, eyes squeezing shut, because the feeling is too much, too hot, too tight, too alive. Julian’s hands clamp on my hips, not to push me, but to hold me steady while I shake through it.
“Breathe,” he says again, though his own voice is ragged.
“I’m trying,” I bite out. “Your ass is making that difficult.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and my eyes open in horror. “I didn’t—”
Julian laughs with full stunned delight, head falling back against the pillow while his body tightens around me in a way that makes my apology turn into a strangled curse.
“Oh my God,” I groan. “Don’t laugh while I’m inside you.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, absolutely not sounding sorry. “I’m sorry, baby, but you can’t say that and expect me to survive it.”
“I’m going to die,” I say, mortified.
“No, you’re not.” His smile is helpless and beautiful. “You’re doing so good.”
That praise hits exactly where he probably knew it would.
He kisses me then, smiling into it, and finally, finally, the tension in both of us shifts into rhythm.
Slow at first because slow is all I can handle without falling apart too fast, and because Julian keeps one hand at my hip and one on the back of my neck, guiding not only my body but the pace of my panic.
When I find that angle again, the one that makes his eyes flare and his breath break, a dark thrill moves through me. I do it again, and his control cracks open enough for sexy as fuck whimpers to spill out. The sound runs through me like lightning, and my confidence catches fire.
He reaches between us, wraps a hand around his cock, and my brain nearly stops. “Is that okay?” he asks, because even now he asks, and I love him so much it hurts.
I nod hard. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. I want to watch.”
Julian strokes himself, matching the rhythm I’m still trying to keep, and the sight of him touching himself while I’m inside him nearly sends me over the edge, and I have to stop moving.
I feel myself getting close before I want to be.
“Jules,” I whimper. “I’m close.”
“I know, baby.” He fucks into his fist faster, and his other hand pulls me down until my mouth is near his. “Keep going. I wanna feel you.”
I kiss him messily, losing rhythm for a second, then finding it again when he guides my hip.
The pressure builds until it’s everywhere—my spine, my stomach, my throat.
Julian’s body tightens under mine, and the sound he makes tells me he’s close too.
I want that. I want it so badly my mouth runs ahead of my brain again.
“Come for me,” I say against his mouth, rough and desperate. “Please, Jules. I need to feel you lose it.”
Julian’s whole body goes taut, and the look on his face in that second is something I’ll remember forever—shock, pleasure, love, surrender. Then he comes with my name in his mouth, his hand working himself through it, body clenching around me so hard that I follow him.
My orgasm hits like falling through the floor, tearing a sound out of me that I bury in his shoulder as my hips jerk. He holds me through it; even like this, even shaking and breathless from his own release, he holds me.
I’m trembling. Sweat cooling on my back. Face pressed to his neck. Still inside him, still surrounded by him, still trying to understand how the world can be the same one that held the flash drive downstairs and this bed at the same time.
Julian slides his hand through my hair. “You okay?” he whispers.
A laugh breaks out of me, hoarse and almost teary. “I’m more than okay.”
“You’re beautiful when you break for me,” he says, kissing the side of my head. “So fucking beautiful.”
I lift my head to look at him. He looks wrecked. Beautiful. Soft in the aftermath, curls everywhere, mouth swollen, eyes shining in the low light.
Mine.
I lean my forehead against his and smile. I made love to my best friend. I know not many people can say the same thing, and that makes it even more special.
This wasn’t something taken, recorded, and twisted into a weapon.
This was messy and human and imperfect and safe.
This was Julian guiding me through fear without making me feel small for having it.
This was me choosing, asking, touching, learning, losing my mind and still remaining inside my own body.
For the first time since the flash drive, I close my eyes without seeing that black piece of plastic in my palm.
I feel Julian’s heartbeat instead.