26. CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRTY-SIX #2
“Bed,” Theo gasps against my mouth.
I roll my hips into him again, swallowing the sound it pulls from him. “Yeah,” I breathe against his lips. “We’re in one.”
“No.”
His palm plants against my chest, stopping me there. Not shoving me away, or even trying to put space between us.
Just enough to make me lift my head.
“We need to sleep. Think-”
He trails off, his eyes falling to where my cock is still hard beneath him.
“Theo.”
His eyes lift reluctantly to mine.
“You just told me you’ve never wanted anyone else calling the shots.” My fingers tighten around his waist. “There is no fucking way you drop that on me and expect me to roll over and go to sleep.”
A shiver runs through him, my hands sliding from his hair to his jaw, keeping his face tipped towards mine as my thumb passes slowly over his bottom lip.
“If you don’t want this, tell me.”
Theo’s lips part beneath my thumb, and I hold his gaze.
“Tell me to stop, and I stop.”
I lean closer until my mouth barely brushes his.
“But if this is you deciding what I should want again,” My lips catch his once, brief enough that Theo follows when I pull away. “Then, respectfully, shut the fuck up.”
Theo kisses me, and I catch him around the waist and pull him closer, kissing him back. Whatever hesitation had crept in disappears when he comes willingly, and the ease of it sends another rush of heat through me.
My fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers, tugging.
“Off.”
Theo lifts his hips, and I drag his boxers down over his thighs, fingertips skimming warm skin until my hand closes around the base of his cock.
My forehead drops against his as I look between us, at my fist wrapped around him and the flushed, wet head pressing above it. I stroke him slowly, watching Theo’s body jerk into my hand as his breath breaks against my cheek.
“Con-”
The sound of my name like that goes straight through me. I do it again, tightening my grip slightly as I watch his lips part, then again because I want another reaction. Another broken breath. Another twitch of his hips into my hand.
I could watch him like this all night.
“More,” he pants.
My eyes lift to his. “Do you need-”
“No. Still good.”
Still.
He’s still open from my cock. Still slick. Still carrying the physical evidence of what I did to him in that alley, and the thought sends such a vicious pulse of need through me that both hands are on him again, gripping his ass and spreading him beneath my palms.
He’s warm and slick beneath my touch, and feeling it is so much worse than knowing it. My fingers dig into the globes of his ass, a groan tearing out of me.
“I think you might actually kill me.”
I shove the shirt higher, bunching the fabric around his waist while my other hand drags down my waistband and frees my cock.
His hips roll down, sliding along my length, and my head falls back. He does it again, shifting over me until the head of my cock catches against him.
My breath stops, Theo adjusting above me.
Then the first tight press of his body starts to give.
“Fuck.”
His forehead drops against my shoulder, the harsh breath leaving him hot against my neck as every muscle in my body locks.
My palm spreads across the small of his back, holding him there while I fight every instinct telling me to pull him down.
He tries to sink lower, and my hands clamp around his hips, stopping him.
“Move,” he gasps, and the last of my restraint goes with it, my grip tightening as I pull him down onto me.
Theo tenses around me as I pull him down, and I hold him there, buried deep while his breath breaks hot against my neck. I give him barely enough time to adjust before my hips start moving, slow enough at first that I feel every drag of him around me.
Then Theo starts moving with me, my fingers clamping down around his hips as the rhythm turns harder, his broken moans spilling against my ear every time our bodies come together.
I’ve heard Theo laugh while someone was trying to punch him. Heard him mouth off to Marcus, coaches, anyone stupid enough to tell him what to do.
I’ve never heard him sound like this.
And now that I have, a hot, possessive part of me doesn’t want anyone else to.
“Con—I can’t—”
My hand closes around his cock again, stroking him in time with my hips. “You’re okay.”
I press my mouth to his neck, tasting salt against heated skin before my teeth catch lightly enough to make his whole body jolt against me.
“So fucking beautiful, baby.”
The words leave my mouth so easily I don’t realise what I’ve said until Theo goes rigid.
His curse breaks apart against my shoulder as he clenches around me, and then he’s coming, shaking in my arms while wet heat spills over my hand.
My rhythm breaks, a rough groan ripping out of my chest as I come inside him, arms locking around Theo and dragging him closer while pleasure crashes through me.
Neither of us moves, Theo heavy against me, all the tension gone from his body while I breathe into his shoulder and wait for my pulse to stop trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I slide both arms around his middle, shifting us higher against the bed, Theo settling straight back into me.
My fingers card through his damp hair.
“You with me?”
Theo lifts his head at my voice, eyes heavy and unfocused before they eventually find mine. He gives me a lazy little nod, and the sight of him like this presses painfully against the centre of my chest.
I kiss him.
There’s no urgency left in it now, just the soft press of his mouth beneath mine before I guide him back against me.
A few minutes ago he told me he’d never wanted anyone else calling the shots, and now he’s completely loose in my arms, trusting me to move him wherever I want.
Theo shifts against me, rolling onto his side until his head finds the space beneath my chin and one arm settles across my stomach. I keep running my fingers through his hair while his breathing grows slower against my chest, the same path over and over until I stop thinking about doing it.
Until it feels normal.
That’s the problem.
My fingers stop.
I stare at the ceiling as everything I’ve managed not to think about comes rushing back at once. The alley. His mouth. His hands. Coming back here. Getting into his bed and doing it all over again because once somehow hadn’t been enough.
My chest tightens until the next breath doesn’t come properly.
I fucked a man.
Twice.
Theo Knox, who is currently asleep with his face tucked against my chest while I’ve been stroking his hair like this is something we do.
I look down at him, and my stomach turns, not because he’s here or because of what we’ve done, but because even with panic starting to crawl through my chest, I still don’t want to move.
My arm suddenly feels too tight around him, the room too warm, every place our bodies touch burning through my awareness until I can’t seem to pull in enough air.
I need to get out of this bed.
I start working myself free, carefully lifting Theo’s arm from my stomach and shifting towards the edge. Even now I’m trying not to wake him, which only makes the pressure in my chest climb higher.
Theo makes a quiet sound when my warmth leaves him and shifts across the mattress.
I freeze with one foot on the floor.
He settles again.
I stand and grab the first clothes within reach, dragging them on before I register the familiar grey joggers hanging loose from my hips.
Theo’s.
His shirt. His joggers. His body wash still on my skin.
I came in here needing a shower because I couldn’t stand feeling surrounded by him, and now I’m leaving dressed in his clothes.
A breath catches painfully in my chest.
I head for the door, only making it three steps before I look back.
Theo has sprawled into the space I left behind, dark hair falling across the pillow, mouth slightly open as he sleeps.
The marks across his throat stand out against flushed skin, and my hand curls around the waistband of his joggers as that same possessive satisfaction from earlier tries to push through the panic.
Mine.
My marks.
My stomach flips.
I’m at the door before I can give myself another chance to look at him, pulling it shut behind me and stepping into the dark hallway.
Silence closes around me.
I press my back against the door and suck in a breath that doesn’t come close to filling my lungs.
Fuck.
I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.