30. Kieran
Chapter 30
Kieran
I’d spend my whole life trying to make Clay smile the way he did before he kissed me. As he kissed me. His joy made him glow and I wanted to revel in the light he shone.
I never expected him. Not in a million years. Not even when he was shoved into my life. But now I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
I turned and pressed him against the wall, pinning him there. He let out the most delicious moan when I wedged my thigh between his legs. I wanted to take him apart piece by piece. Clay’s hands worked their way under my shirt, skimming warm touches across my skin.
Still in the first stages of love, the first flush of romance, every touch should have felt new, but it seemed like I’d known his touch for lifetimes. Like my soul knew his.
Clay ground against my thigh, riding it like he wanted to get off just like that. I broke away from the kiss and let my lips dance along the line of his jaw.
“Something you need?”
He growled at me, and it was kind of adorable. Like an angry kitten.
“You know what I need.” Clay relaxed in my arms, leaning against the wall. He stared up at me, tracing patterns of love on my flesh with his fingertips. He looked at me like I held the answers. No—like I was the answer. I kissed him then, long and slow. Licking my way into his mouth, I let my hands and my mouth do the talking .
And when he was breathless, writhing against me, desperate for friction, I scooped him up off his feet and carried him the short distance to the bed.
The cabin was a single room with a small kitchen and an even smaller living space, but the bed was fucking huge. I tossed him down and tore my shirt off over my head. Clay did the same, then scrambled to get rid of his pants. I watched him flick the button open and shove them down to his ankles.
He glanced at me, then grinned. “What, never seen a man undress before?”
I shook my head. My thoughts were ridiculous, but I shared them anyway. “I was just thinking how nice it was to see you use both hands.”
Clay leaned back and skated his hand down his bare chest. His gentle touch went lower and, with a sultry smile, he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked. “While I did learn to use my left hand for a lot of things, jerking off just wasn’t the same.”
Clay stroked again, tilting his head back, and his Adam’s apple looked fucking bitable. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip and he moaned, putting on a show for me. I didn’t know where to look. His whole body was a work of art. Even the pale complexion of his newly un-cast arm was sexy as hell to me. It spoke of all the shit he’d been through and that he’d come out the other side, ready to heal. He was so fucking strong.
Clay opened his eyes and looked at me, his gaze heated, kind of scared too, maybe, underneath. I stripped out of the rest of my clothes then prowled over to him, climbed on the bed, and blanketed him with my body, acting like a shield. He wound his arms around my neck and pulled me down into a kiss .
Fiery. Soft. All tongue and breath. Gentle brushes of lips before it deepened into something fierce and needy. Teeth clanking as fingertips dug into my flesh. He hooked a leg around me and encouraged me to rut against him. God, the feeling of our flesh grinding together was too much. And not enough.
I paused only to grab the supplies off the nightstand. I set the condom aside and focused instead on adding a generous amount of lube to our dicks. Clay’s legs splayed wide, his rigid cock lying flat against his stomach. The tip was red and wet with precum. I loved the thick vein that traveled down the underside of his cock, leading the way to his balls, high and tight against his body. He was art. Desire personified. And impatient.
“God, please, Kieran.” He thrust into the empty air as if to prove his desperation. As though I couldn’t see it in the lines of his body. The way he held himself in a state of perpetual anticipation.
I wrapped my hand around both of us and watched the way Clay went boneless as satisfaction and even more desire swept through him. His eyes fluttered shut and I watched the way his face smoothed. Watched him smile, then open his eyes to look at me again.
I needed him in all the ways I could have him. In my life, my heart, my bed, my future.
“Don’t make me wait anymore,” Clay told me.
“But waiting is—”
“Evil,” he interrupted. “Waiting is evil.”
“Being evil can be fun,” I teased, but at the sight of his pout, I released his cock and grabbed the condom.
“When we get home, I want to get tested.” Clay plucked the words straight out of my head and spoke them for me .
“When we get home.” I agreed, loving the sound of that. Until then, I rolled the condom down my cock. I reached for Clay, gently pressing my slippery fingers against his hole.
More than watching part of myself disappear inside him, I loved watching the look on his face when he finally got his own way. When I finally breached him with my fingers, a flush of lust turned his chest pink. I wanted to kiss his skin to see if it was as warm as it looked. Instead, I tormented him with slow movements in and out, gliding over his prostate now and then to make him gasp and squirm.
Clay’s cock jumped and twitched, dribbling precum that collected in a sticky pool on his skin. I laid my free hand on his leg, followed it in a slow glide upward. I avoided his cock and went farther up, watching the way Clay arched into my touch, the way he sought after my fingers whenever they retreated from him. It was like he was at war with himself, unable to choose which pleasure to chase.
I dragged my thumb over his nipple, the nub hardening under my repeated touch. I kept going until Clay whimpered. His hands were tangled in the bedding. His hole was definitely ready for me, loose and slick, but I loved the way he looked like this. How unbothered he was by anything except how much he needed me.
He wasn’t the only one suffering, and when he was messy and begging, rocking and writhing on my hand, my cock was so hard it ached. He moaned a protest when I removed my fingers from his ass.
There were a million ways I could take him. A million more I wanted to have him. But most of all, I wanted him like this. Sheltered beneath me. Eyes looking into mine, lips easily accessible. Arms and legs tangled around me, pulling me tighter to him.
His body took me like I was meant to be there. I grit my teeth and buried my face in the curve of his neck, breathing in the scent of him as I tried not to blow my load like a two-pump chump .
Clay’s voice whispered in my ear, begging breathlessly for me to kiss him.
I devoured him instead. Kissed him with my whole body. He twined his limbs around me, clung to me, dug his fingers into my back, grabbed my ass. He met every one of my thrusts, keening. Moaning. Melting into me. Sweat beaded on the back of my neck. My forehead. But I only cared about kissing him endlessly. Breathing against his lips when we needed oxygen, when the force of our bodies moving was too much to handle while we kissed.
Nothing had ever felt this good. Had been this monumental. I wanted to live in this moment in a way that I’d never wanted to live in any other.
Clay’s fingers sank into my hair. His grip made my scalp tingle and pushed me closer to the edge. My breaths sawed in and out of me like ragged gasps. He licked at the inside of my mouth in a messy, wonderful, imperfectly perfect kiss.
I slammed my mouth down over his and held on to him as my hips snapped and I drilled into him. His moans were broken, staccato things, increasing in frequency and pitch. Heat built in my stomach, and lower, pooling in my balls, drawing them up tight. I was treacherously close to coming, but I didn’t want to come without him.
Managing to get hand between us, I stroked his cock. Impossibly hot and hard, slick with his own precum, it didn’t take much to set Clay off. His back bowed. Heels dug into my ass, and Clay tipped his head back, panting and half-sobbing as he coated my fingers. He still gripped my hair and used it to pull me down to him, stealing my breath with a kiss, dragging my orgasm out of me.
I saw stars. Hearts. Fucking rainbows. I saw a life with him, a dream, a fantasy I wanted to bring to life flash through my mind .
Breathless, spent, slick with sweat and lube and Clay’s cum on my fingers, I went still. I sucked in stuttering breaths. “I want to do that forever.”
Clay laughed. “As long as we can take breaks in between for food and naps.” He wriggled and laughed again. “And showers.”
After a quick clean-up, we lay tangled together under the covers. I was content to stay here with Clay and bask in the warmth that thrummed between us, but somewhere down the trail, a waterfall waited for us to discover.
And a future waited for us to discover it too.