Chapter 12 #2
“Shower okay?” I ask, praying it doesn’t kill the mood. “Airplane,” is all I can give as an explanation, but it’s not needed since Eli’s already nodding against my shoulder.
It’s yet another brand new experience, undressing with him in the misting bathroom, seeing him naked and wet, watching his hand disappear behind his back while I soap up my arms.
“I, uh . . .” He sounds hesitant for the first time. “I did a little prep already.”
The prettiest blush spreads over the apples of his cheeks, and I use all my strength to remain standing—as opposed to falling to my knees to worship him.
Instead, I pump more soap into my palm and wash his torso, his muscular shoulders, his neck.
I bend down to kiss him once, twice, then pull back and focus on his legs, his hard cock. Again I remind myself we have time, maybe an hour still, and I doubt I’ll last long once I’m inside him, but I’ll do my very best to make this the best night of Eli’s life.
So I don’t kiss him again until we’re standing at the foot of the bed. With long, deep strokes of my tongue, I feel him relax into it, melt into me.
Until a catastrophic thought pops into my head.
“Fuck!”
Eli jumps about a foot in the air, and who could blame him when I just shouted in his face.
“What?” he demands.
“I don’t have condoms,” I confess in a pained groan.
“I do, silly,” Eli says, his tone still harsh, but then he dissolves into giggles before running out of the room buck naked.
It’s an inspiring sight.
“God, I’m a lucky bastard.”
He comes back, running still and brandishing a little bottle of lube and a condom foil in his hand triumphantly.
“You really are a genius.”
I silence his responding snort with more kisses, and murmur words of adoration between each press of lips against lips.
Then we’re tumbling down onto the mattress.
Rolling around until we somehow end up sideways, until our kisses turn frantic and desperate.
I pull back, breathe in deep to regain some sort of control, and remind myself I have to focus on Eli, on making it good for him.
“Flip around,” I direct him gently, and he does without question, resting his cheek on his hands.
“God, Eli, you’re a work of art.” The reverent whisper has goosebumps breaking out over his back . . . his ass.
His perfect, tight ass.
I grab the lube, pour a little on my finger, and kiss the center of his back at the exact same second that I first touch his rim.
Just circle it softly.
He still shudders violently, just from that.
Nothing could excite me more.
Seeing the literal and physical response to my touch sets my blood on fire, and it pulls my head to his ass like a magnet.
Rimming isn’t for everyone, especially not their first time, I understand this—I’ve lived this—but giving is very different than receiving. Though there’s a lot about myself that I don’t know, that I haven’t had the chance to explore yet, I do know one thing.
I’m a top, and I love being a good top.
He jumps at the first delicate lick, and at the second he melts into the mattress.
The deeper I go, the higher-pitched his voice goes.
“God yes, Lex. Fuck, baby, please. I’m ready, I swear I’m ready.”
“Not even close,” I say with a chuckle, but I do pull back and slip the tip of my index finger in slowly. “You’ve seen my dick, angel, and I refuse to hurt you. Ever.”
“Fuck, why do you have to be so perfect and sweet while I’m a horny idiot?” I can only laugh, free and loud, then get back to work on pushing in to the second knuckle.
While I work that in, I get more lube and pour it right over my finger, then coat the next two as well while I’m at it.
I kiss his cheek while I work him open, and he moans and groans and begs some more, but he doesn’t take back control like I know he could.
I don’t know why I’m especially touched by that, but the blooming warmth in my chest is something I definitely haven’t felt during sex before.
“Fuck, that’s enough,” he growls when my ring finger is fully inside him.
Yeah, okay.
“How do you want me?” I kiss the small of his back and slowly pull back my hand.
“I don’t—fuck, I can’t think. Just—wait, I read about . . .” He breathes in harshly, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “Okay, get on your back. It’s supposed to be easier if I’m on top the first time.”
“You won’t hear me complaining,” I mumble.
I crawl up and flop onto my back next to him. It takes him another moment of breathing hard, so I comb my fingers through his hair and wait for him.
I’ll always wait for him. I’m damn lucky he isn’t making me wait a hell of a lot longer.
There must be something on my face clueing him in to where my thoughts have gone, or maybe he can read my mind, who cares? Point is he finds the strength to sit up and then lean down to kiss me. Sweetly, slowly.
It’s a total contrast to how he was talking just a minute ago, and it’s just one more thing I love about him.
Anticipation makes my skin burn when he suddenly moves, faster than I thought he was capable of after being so out of breath. But he’s hovering over me, he’s reaching for my cock behind him, and then wet, pressing heat is all I know.
In the darkness of my mind, his brimming blue eyes are all I notice. Later I’ll realize the lights from the city were making them shine.
“Take your time,” I tell him, and pat his thighs softly when he stops abruptly after the head of my covered dick pops in.
“I want to,” he whispers. “I know this isn’t—that we’ll—god, Lex. Please tell me this isn’t the last time.”
A knot of heartbreak, of self-loathing forms in my throat, but I force myself to speak through it.
“Why would it be?” I ask, trying to convey how utterly ridiculous I think that notion is, but without making him feel bad for feeling like this—I made him hesitant, it’s my fault. “I love you, Eli Ellsworth. That hasn’t changed in the whole time I’ve known you. It will never change.”
He stares for a long moment before he nods. As he bites his lower lip, I can practically see him gathering his confidence back, and when he does, his gaze latches onto me and keeps me frozen in place.
The pressure of his hands on my chest eases as he lowers himself fully until his ass is pressed against my thighs.
There’s no talking like last time, there’s no need.
We exist together for a moment I could live in forever.
When he moves, I move.
I straighten up and cover his back with my hands, as he grips my shoulders to keep sliding up and down.
We never break eye contact, and I know there’s no other person on earth who I could share this with. No other person I could let see me like this.
It builds slowly in my core, so slowly that I get to enjoy every excruciatingly delicious second while I feel his hard cock rub against my abs.
“Eli,” I mumble, my voice already sounding like a warning. “I don’t know how much longer I can—”
“Me too, but uh . . .” He trails off, and I feel his left hand start to slip from my shoulder. I don’t want him to stop touching me, ever, but especially right now.
“Can I?” I ask.
“Please,” he begs so sweetly.
I sneak a hand between us and circle his erection. His hips move faster, more erratically, as soon as I finish the first stroke. It takes less than five, and when he tightens even more around me, he drags me down with him with his name on my lips.
The sticky mess, the sudden oversensitivity, and the sound of our panting breaths don’t have a chance of overshadowing just how perfect this moment is.
Right here, with Eli smiling and satisfied in my arms, I never thought it could be as good as it was whenever I let myself dream about it, but it was—is somehow better.
But then the fireworks light up the world beyond the windows, and for the first time it feels like the world is ready to celebrate us.