Chapter 17 #3
His hands come up, one bracing against my thigh, the other resting lightly on my stomach as he finds a rhythm. Luc moans around me, and it shoots through me like electricity.
“Jesus, Luc.” I groan. “You’re doing so good.”
He hums again like he knows, like he’s starting to enjoy it. He pulls back briefly, lips slick, eyes locking on mine.
“You gonna fall in love with me if I keep going, Payne?” he teases.
“Too late,” I manage, half-laughing, half-gasping.
And then he dives back in.
He doesn’t stop until my thighs tremble and my voice is hoarse from saying his name over and over. When I finally tug him up, his mouth is swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied.
“Holy shit. That was kinda fun.”
I brush the mess of hair back from his forehead. “You have no idea how good you were.”
“Guess I’m a quick learner.” Luc smirks, then his gaze drops to my still-hard cock. “But I didn’t manage to make you come.”
“Oh, you would have, but I didn’t want to finish in your mouth. Figured that’d be a little much for your first time.”
“Fair,” he says, but then a new glint enters his eyes. “Want to come on my face? Or my stomach?”
Christ on a bike.
My cock twitches hard at the image he just painted.
I look him up and down, all long limbs and flushed skin, kneeling in front of me like sin incarnate, and notice that he’s hard again.
“I’ve got a better idea. Up.”
I pull him to his feet, only to guide him back onto the bed. He falls onto his back, so wide-eyed as I straddle his thighs that he almost reminds me of my Bambi.
Our cocks brush, and I grind down, making him moan deep in his throat.
Kissing his cheek, I murmur, “I’m not gonna fuck you, Luc. But can I jerk us off together?”
The “Oui” comes so fast it makes me chuckle. I reach down and wrap my hand around both of us, feeling the weight of him against me, the heat, the slickness of our skin already damp with sweat. Then I lean back just enough to spit into my palm and stroke us together.
Feeling him slotted against me is almost too much, combined with the sight of him. I can’t remember the last time I wanted something this badly.
My hand tightens on instinct, the rhythm starting slow, controlled, but the friction, the intimacy of it, nearly undoes me before it’s even really started.
Luc gasps, head tipping back, and I lean in to kiss his shoulder, then his neck, each breath hitching against my lips.
His hips twitch, chasing the friction, and his face buries into my neck, his breath coming fast and desperate, burning against my skin.
I adjust my angle, bracing myself better with one arm while my stroking hand finds its pace, long, slow drags that build tension with every glide.
The slide of his cock against mine makes my hips stutter before finding a new rhythm.
We’re already slick with pre-cum, and it just makes everything messier and hotter.
Our cocks move together perfectly, each stroke coaxing out more gasps, more whispered swears from Luc’s lips.
“Harder,” he pleads, voice ragged, reaching up to grab my arm, fingers digging in like he needs to ground himself.
So I give him harder. My grip tightens, the strokes faster now, rougher. The wet slap of skin fills the room, and Luc’s legs fall open wider beneath me as he writhes, his muscles trembling with restraint.
His lashes brush his skin as his eyes flutter shut, cheeks flushed that perfect pink.
I can’t decide where to look, my gaze getting caught on the contrast of our bodies—his fair skin flushed beneath mine—before jumping to his parted lips, and then our cocks.
I’m panting, barely holding on, but I won’t let go until he does.
“Come on, baby,” I whisper, dragging my thumb in slow, tight circles over the head of his cock, feeling it twitch in my palm. “Think you’ve got one more in you? Just for me?” And then, softer, pressed right to his ear, I add, “Please.”
That’s what does it.
His whole body arches, a sharp inhale breaking into a cry as his cock pulses against mine. Luc shatters in my hand, shaking, swearing in rapid French, eyes squeezed shut, and lips parted as he spills across both of us.
It’s fucking gorgeous.
Watching him come and feeling him come against me snaps whatever thread was keeping me together.
My balls draw tight, my breath catches, and I lose it with a groan of his name, spilling across my knuckles and his stomach.
I collapse onto him, not caring about the slick between us, just needing to be close. I kiss him rough and deep, like I can pour everything I’m feeling into it—lust, relief, the sheer awe that it’s him.
Luc kisses back like he’s drowning in it too. His fingers find my hair, and his fist tightens, pulling me even closer like he never wants to let go.
Fuck. It’s never felt like this before. Never this wild or this right.
And we’re a mess of sticky, panting bodies trembling from the release.
Luc’s lips find my ear, his breath hot as he laughs against my damp skin. “I’m so fucking bi.”
I huff out a broken laugh, still trying to catch my breath. “Same.”
Fucking same.