35. Tom Cobalt #2
I stare at the sharp edges of his jaw. “Again, most guys expect me to be a sex god. So when it came to losing my virginity, it was actually terrifying, dude. I backed out…so many times.”
“With RJ?”
“No, by the time I was with him, I sort of figured sex is like a performance. It made it easier, I think, to just tell myself it wasn’t my first time.
If I believed it, then he would too.” I expel a tenser breath.
“I like trying new things, so I did enjoy it. I mean, I wouldn’t want to have sex with you if I didn’t. ”
“Okay…” He’s thinking this over. “How many times have you actually been fucked?”
“Like…five or eight times?”
He has a shadow of a smile. “Is it five or eight?”
“Five,” I answer more honestly. “I know your count is astronomical—”
“Not astronomical,” he snaps. “Just high enough I can’t give you a number. But I can tell you that I lost my virginity in high school.”
“To the high school boyfriend?”
“No, before him. Some random guy I met at a house party. I was curious and impatient—” He cuts himself off at my laughter.
“Sorry,” I laugh more, my body jostling with the noise. “Genuinely, I am. I’m sorry. It’s just, you? Impatient? No way.”
He shoves my chest but doesn’t let me get far. He fists my white muscle shirt and pulls me closer to his mouth. The almost-kiss feels like slow-moving magma rolling across every inch of my body. His lips ghost over mine, and my veins sear with a pulsing desire. Then he releases me.
I breathe harder and fall back onto my hands. What just happened? “Was that like punishment for laughing during a serious moment?” Because I might need to laugh again.
“Or maybe I just like ruffling the Cobalt god.”
I grind away a smile. “I think you were semi-successful. Want to go for full?”
Phoenix answers by pulling his gray Henley over his head. His tattooed chest comes into glorious view.
As he chucks the shirt, I seamlessly shift and straddle his lap. The natural order of things—pushing him down, grinding against him, kissing him senseless—just vanishes out of my brain the second he frames my face with his hands.
My breath catches. My heart catapults. My smile flickers in and out. I need him to kiss me. He’s right there. My muscles flex as he draws out the moment in ways he usually doesn’t. I rasp out, “You have me where you want me now?”
“No.” His intense eyes dive deeper into mine. “Not yet.”
I put a hand to his chest, feeling the powerful thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat.
Right as I try to push his back flat to the bed, he seizes my wrist and keeps himself upright, inches from my face. That one strong movement hardens me to a painful ache, and the cavernous, needy grunt out of Phoenix lights my whole body on fire.
There is so much tension in my muscles. I instinctively grind against him to try to release it, and his other hand grips my skull.
He brings our lips together in an insanely hot, sweltering kiss.
Holy shit. He’s kissing me more slowly than he ever has.
This change in tempo is annihilating. Bloodstream, torched.
Even as I try to quicken the kiss, his tongue works slowly and sensually against mine. I fucking tremble. I clutch the side of his neck and pry my lips off his to choke out, “I think you need to take me faster than this, dude.”
“I’m going to take you how I fucking want to take you,” Phoenix threatens against my lips. Fuck me. Like seriously, right now. His brown-blue eyes graze over my face. “That okay with you?”
I grin into a breathy laugh. “You’re giving me permission?”
“No, I’m going to fuck you without consent.” His hands are on my ass as he suddenly turns his weight into me. My back thuds against the mattress, and my breath ejects while he’s on top of my aching body. “Yes, Tom, you get a say.”
The dark danger in his eyes contradicts his words, and I love the dissonance of him. The paradox.
I lie under Phoenix, and I prop slightly on my elbows to edge closer.
“In that case, I demand a very hard, very deep fucking where I black ou—Phoenix,” I fall backward with a moan when he rocks forward, our cocks scraping together.
Fuuuck. Even with the barrier of my jeans and his pants, the sudden friction against my dick disorients me.
He clasps my face, just to turn my jaw and whisper, “Sorry. This isn’t room service, and I’m not your fucking waiter, nepo baby.”
Holy fuck. I lick my lips, feeling my rising smile between my heavy breaths. I want to say something about being a seven-course meal, but I can’t even be smug about this. He is sucking the soul out of me in the next deep kiss, and I’m loving every damn second of being under his command.
Time is irrelevant. My lips swell from our forceful, covetous kisses, and when he breaks off my mouth, I taunt, “Is that all you’ve got?”
He comes at me like a flame to lighter fluid—the burst of scalding heat is all-consuming. Gripping, kissing, thrusting, grinding at a ferocious rhythm. As I try to meet him in kind, I can’t make sense of anything other than my skin is blistering and my pulse is jackhammering in my throat.
“Fuck,” I groan into a shudder as he fists my cock. Our clothes have come off in the raging inferno. Sweat builds quickly between our tensing bodies. The gray comforter is kicked down, and our legs tangle in the matching sheets.
I’m not worrying about giving a stellar performance. There is no grade at the end. No judgment. No preconceived notions. I just bake in the heat that’s stoked between us. My thighs are split around his hips, and I barely notice him grabbing lube from his end table drawer.
Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.
Each second hereafter is as nerve-wracking as it is exhilarating. His left hand sheathes my jaw while his right disappears between our pelvises. He slips a slick finger in me, and I see him watching my body.
I’m not thinking about how I should react or what I should do.
For the first time ever, I just focus on the feeling of the depth and movement inside me.
Of Phoenix trying to open me and fuel my pleasure.
It doesn’t take him long to hit the spot.
I spasm and grit down on my molars into a deep, “Fuck me, holy fuck.” I grip his neck.
Phoenix breathes hard through his nose. Then he groans out, “Oh my God, fuck.” Damp strands of his hair hang in his face.
I run my fingers through his dark hair. To see his eyes. The most unusual, unique, dangerous, affectionate eyes that’ve ever punctured me.
My breath hitches into a sharper noise.
His cock leaks pre-cum on mine, and the warmth dizzies the fuck out of me. Or maybe it’s because of his second finger slipping into my hole. Fuck me. He stretches me open even wider. He keeps teasing my prostate.
My eyes want to roll.
“Tom. Tom.” He squeezes my face until I meet his dark, narrowed gaze. “You need to take way more than this. You get that?”
“I—I can take a lot more, dude.” My lips break apart as his fingers never slow their hypnotic pace inside me. “Please, just…” I gasp, then curve my arm over my eyes and flex my abs to stop from coming. Do not come. Do not come. Do not come yet, dear fucking fuck.
He pries my arm off my face and gives me a very short reprieve.
His fingers exit me. I watch him sit up on his knees.
We’re both slick with each other’s sweat.
My gaze travels down the beautiful etched tattoos along his lean-muscled frame, and his callused hands drag across my cut hip muscles that lead to my cock.
I am far more toned after hitting the gym a stupid amount to train for the tour and after abiding by Eliot’s high-protein regime.
It’s not hard for me to put in the work. Some would say that I go overboard, and I’ve finally found someone willing to go overboard with me.
Emotions pool as I stare at Phoenix.
I eye his erection as he rips a condom with his teeth.
“You good?” he asks in a husky breath, sheathing himself.
“Uh, yeah.” I am beyond good. I am too good. This feels fucking dreamy. I realize I’m on my elbows again, and I lie flat as he hooks an arm under my leg. I’m just fastened to his concentrated eyes that move around me.
I hear the pop of the lube. He looks from my face, then back down, and I feel—no, I know—he would never fucking hurt me. I was so wrong about how this would be with Phoenix. He is so conscious of me in this moment that my eyes try to sting again.
When his lips are back on mine with two short, quick kisses, he whispers, “I’m going to try not to be too rough, but I want to fuck you like a fucking animal right now.”
“Stop talking and fucking do it, Phoenix,” I grit out, too aroused already with the anticipation. I’m so lit up, I can’t think straight.
And then he pushes his cock inside me with a gradual depth. It has my body shaking. The pain is short-lived as he moves farther inside. He reaches the spot he’s been teasing, and I arch into him without thinking. “Fuuuck,” I moan into a coarse gasp. Fuckfuckfuck.
“Tom.” His grip tightens on my thigh. “Stay fucking still.” Phoenix bears his right forearm above my head while he pushes my leg toward my chest with the other hand, and he starts thrusting into me with a detonating speed. I am fucked—no, I am being fucked.
I hang on to his shoulder, his muscles contracting beneath my hand as he plows deeper and deeper each time. Oh my fuck. Oh my fuck. I turn my head into the pillow. My face contorts as I’m ascending a height I’ve never really reached.
It’s already too much. I’m embarrassed to say I am not in this to win this. I am in this to lose within the first five minutes.
He’s just…really fucking hot. The way he handles me, the way he wants me, the way I am giving myself to him—I’ve never really had sex like this, so completely unrestrained.
His chest is slick against mine, and his hot breath pricks my ear as he growls, “You aren’t done until I’m fucking done.”