Chapter 41 #2
It takes less than five minutes for us to shed our clothes and climb onto my bed together. I pull the joint between my lips and light it, pulling in a lungful of earthy smoke which I blow away from Nash. He plucks the joint from my fingers and brings it to his own lips, and I furrow my brow at him.
“You don’t like pot,” I say.
“I don’t like the smell,” he tells me, “but I’ve never tried it.”
“It tastes about the same as it smells,” I laugh.
With a shrug, he wraps his lips around it and breathes deeply, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke seconds later. I thought he looked good when he puffed his cigars, but watching him laid out on my bed smoking a joint might be even better.
Muscle rolls against his jaw and he lets out a satisfied sigh. “It’s not terrible,” he smirks. “It’s no cigar, but…”
“Smartass.”
I take another hit from the joint before dropping it into a glass on a nightstand. Rolling onto Nash’s body, I settle between his legs, bringing my hands to his hips as my mouth meets his collarbone, sucking and kissing at his skin.
“I know you were busy tonight,” I tell him, “but for the last hour we were at that party, all I could think about was getting you home and getting you naked.”
I press into him with a grind of my hips against his, forcing a groan from him as his cock swells. His hand balls itself into my hair and he brings my forehead to rest against his, boring into me with his hazel eyes.
“You are my recompense, Emmett Fowler,” he breathes, “and you are my home.”
I dive into him, meeting his lips with my own in a heated kiss as I slide his boxers down his legs.
My cock twitches as my tongue meets his.
Every inch of my body aches for him, and I make that clear to him in the way that my lips move from his to trail across his skin.
Deep kisses follow the line of his jaw, leading a path across his chest and down his stomach, trailing back up until my mouth finds itself next to his ear.
“I love you.”
I press another kiss to his lips before spitting into the palm of my hand and stroking it over my cock. I curse under my breath as I watch my dick sink inside of him and Nash wraps a leg around me, letting me give him every inch.
“Christ, you’re tight,” I breathe as he stretches around my cock.
My mouth crashes into his and I feed him a moan as our hips work together, sending fire pouring through every inch of my body.
“I know you can fuck harder than that,” he taunts.
Tucking my face into the crook of his neck, I grab onto Nash’s hip and curse as I pound into him, hurtling myself closer and closer to the edge until every nerve in my body lights up with pleasure.
Nash’s hand wraps around his cock, stroking to match my every thrust, and it might just be the most beautiful goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.
“Shit,” I pant, “You’re gonna make me come.”
Nash’s free hand grips the back of my head, pulling it away from him. “And why should I let you?” Studying my face, he adds, “Oh, you think because you’re topping, you’re in charge here?”
“Nash—”
“Why should I let you come, pretty boy?”
Pressing my lips to his ear with a hard thrust of my hips, I whisper, “Because I’ve earned it. And you want it.”
“Manners,” he chides.
“It’s my birthday,” I counter.
Without giving him time to protest, I dive into his mouth with my own, swallowing his moans as I force him over the edge and his body stills while he comes.
I follow closely behind, gripping onto his hip like a vise while I unload inside of him, and I drop my forehead to his shoulder as I come down.
“Christ, you’re a mess,” I chuckle as I reach for my shirt to wipe his cum from his stomach.
“Happy birthday,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “That can be your gift: I will bottom for you once a year. Get us another one of those,” he tells me, gesturing toward our spent joint.
I pull my boxer briefs on as I slide off of the bed, and I reach into a dresser drawer for the stash jar which holds my pre-rolls. Tucking one of them between my lips, I return to Nash and settle on the bed next to him before lighting the joint and passing it his way.
“Move in with me,” he says, brushing my hair away from my eyes, and I let out a surprised laugh.
“What?”
“I’m serious.” Resting on his elbow, he stares down at me. “It was never lonely being by myself in that house before you. It never felt empty. You carved out a place for yourself there. You belong there.”
I try not to show the doubt on my face as I lift myself to join him, staring into his hazel eyes, but I don’t trust myself. I’m doing better, but I’m not where I think I should be. “The pool doesn’t make you nervous?”
It doesn’t scare you like it does me?
He shakes his head. “I know what to look for now,” he says plainly, “and if I can’t be there, my staff will know not to let you near it without me present.”
“I don’t want you to babysit me.”
“Loving you and babysitting you are two very different things,” he tells me, “and I only plan to do one of them.”
Trailing my hand across his chest, I wrap my body around his and let out a contented sigh. For a night that I didn’t want to be here for, it sure has been pretty close to perfect.