Chapter 36 #3
There were lines like snakes but also pillars, threads that bled into waves, then broke apart again.
A sun tucked between his ribs. A storm half-finished, a flower mid-bloom, a pair of ravens hiding behind gnarled branches.
Some of the lines appeared carved instead of inked; some were clean while others were jagged, like even his tattoos couldn’t decide if they were meant to hold him together or pull him apart.
All of it moved when he breathed and cracked when he writhed beneath my touch.
“You’re beautiful,” I murmured. The vulnerability returned, and I wanted to hold onto it this time. “I will never hurt you, Remi.” My lips pressed to his, softly enough to convey how much I meant it. “You think you’re hard to love? You’re not, because I do it every day.”
He broke the kiss and drew in a ragged breath. “You can’t say that for the first time during sex.”
“It has nothing to do with the sex. I’ve been trying to find a way to say it every day.” Pressing my forehead to his, I steadied myself through my pounding heart. “I love you.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t look at me.”
“I’m looking.”
He groaned, but I thought there was a hint of a smile there. I nipped at his lip before I drew my hips back. When I thrust into him, his eyes opened. This time, they were full of pure, unadulterated desire.
“You feel so fucking good,” he breathed.
“Tell me how good.”
“What, you need your ego stroked, baby?”
“Yes, I’m fragile.”
He lifted his hips, changing the angle. “So good. No words.”
With a smile, I dropped to my elbows and sped up my movements. An extraordinarily loud sound escaped him, and for a second, I thought he was hurt, but the pleasure was obvious on his face. I repeated the same movement and felt his body arch beneath me.
“You don’t . . .” His breaths were shaky as he tried to speak. “Have to . . . be so gentle.”
“Want me to fuck you harder, baby?”
“Fuck me like you . . . hate me.”
“I’ll do you one better and fuck you like I love you.”
I pushed one of his knees to his chest, giving me better access, then bent at the waist and took his nipple between my teeth.
When I bit down hard, his fingers dug into my scalp, and he made a choked sound in his throat.
I ran my fingers up to his neck, brushing over his trachea.
He lifted his chin as if he was inviting me.
My tongue followed the trail of my thumb until I reached the bruises.
They ignited something in me all over again, but I just pressed my lips to one spot gently, then moved to the next.
“If I’d known you’d be so soft,” he said, “I’d have jumped in your lap and held you down so I could have my wild way with you.”
“Next time.”
Wrapping his hair around my hand, I tipped his head back so I had better access to his neck. When I thrust into him hard, his nails tore at my shoulders. It was painful but gave me something to focus on to keep me from finishing before I was ready.
He dropped one of his hands to his dick and stroked it slowly. Just knowing he was doing that made my balls ache. I buried my face in his shoulder as the feeling intensified.
“Remi, baby. Let me feel you cum.”
A whimper escaped him, and I felt his movements speed up.
I matched his pace, not caring that it would drive me right to the edge.
He released an impressive string of swears, and his ass tightened around me like a vice at the same moment that his cum hit my stomach.
My teeth dug into his shoulder when my orgasm followed.
For a second, I thought time halted, and when my head started to clear, I realized that all of my weight was on top of him.
I looked at his face. He appeared dazed but content.
“Sorry if that was terrible,” I said.
A beautiful smile lit up his face as he continued to stare at the ceiling. “We can work on it.”
Sitting back on my heels, I scoffed. “What happened to, ‘So good. No words.’”
“Gotta tell a guy what he wants to hear.” He sat up and ran his fingers over my chest. “Don’t hate me, but my stuff’s at the bar.”
I didn’t say anything as I got to my feet. I opened one of the dresser drawers and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. He caught them but just stared down at them as I cleaned myself up and got dressed.
“I’m craving something,” I said. “What if we make some frozen burritos and eat them in bed? Then we can take a hot shower.”
When I looked back at him, he had his nose tucked into the shirt.
“What are you doing?” I laughed.
“It smells like you.”
Holding out my hand, I waited for him to take it. Once I’d pulled him to his feet, I wrapped my arm around his waist. “I smell like me too.”
He buried his face in my neck and inhaled deeply. “Fuck yeah, you do.”
“Mm. You can wear my clothes any time you want.”
“When you’re gone?”
“Of course.”
He hid his smile by pulling the shirt over his head. By the time his face was visible again, he was composed.
“Frozen burritos sound disgusting,” he said. “Count me in, but know that I will hog all of the water in the shower.”
“Ah, the things I do for the people I love.”
He bit his lip. Not wanting to pressure him, I pulled him out of the room. Burritos were on my mind, and after all the back-to-back games, I was convinced that if I didn’t have them, I would die of starvation.