27. The Way God Intended
THE WAY GOD INTENDED
PARKER
He’s waiting for me the moment I walk through the front door, curled up in my recliner with his nose buried in his latest read.
His eyes flicker to mine, and I feel it immediately.
My body aches for him. These past few days of trying to prove myself have felt like an eternity. I want to be the man he needs, and a selfish part of me still believes I’m the only man who can be that for him.
I drop my things and walk right to him without even needing to think about it.
“Hey.” Anders sets his book down and stands up. He runs a hand through his messy waves almost like he’s nervous.
I reach out and cup his cheek, exhaling deeply through my nose. “Hi.”
“You played really shitty tonight,” he tells me. “Vandy made you look elderly out on that ice.”
“I know,” I smile, welcoming his remarks. I’d rather him be honest than lie and say I’m the best player ever. I know I’m not. Maybe I used to be, but that’s just what happens in professional sports. You’re going to crash and burn at some point.
Sometimes priorities change. A few years ago, getting too old was my biggest fear because it meant less time doing what I love. Now, I fear aging because it means less time on Earth.
Time that belongs to Anders. I’m sure of it.
For a minute, we just stand and stare at each other. Anders wears a hardened expression that softens gradually, while my tender look becomes something a little more solemn.
“I’m tired of fighting,” I tell him. “I won’t fight this anymore.”
“Fight what?”
“You and me.”
He laughs once. “What makes you think you don’t have to fight for me?”
“Because there isn’t anyone else.”
His mouth twitches. “You don’t know that.” But then I feel him tug at the hem of my shirt at the same time he narrows his eyes. “You think you do…but—”
I slide my hand around to the back of his head. He flutters his eyes a few times, looking up at me with an unreadable expression.
“We’re inevitable,” I whisper, leaning in. “We’re an implosion.” This isn’t something that’s sudden. The pressure has been building slowly within ourselves for years. But there comes a point when it gets too strong to contain. “It’s happening now, Anders. Neither of us can stop it.”
He doesn’t say anything for a minute. Instead, he slowly snakes his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.
For a minute, I’m a little stunned. I thought desire would get us first. But this is so much better.
I can’t remember the last time I was able to just…
stand and hug him. Feeling him in my arms. I rest my cheek against the top of his head and let out the biggest sigh of relief in my entire life.
My thumb brushes against his cheek. Anders squeezes me even tighter, even squeezing a grunt right out of me.
I stumble backwards a little, pulling him with me.
“Hey,” I murmur softly, cupping his cheek and pressing a long kiss to his temple.
His breathing picks up as he slides his hands up and down my back and nuzzles his face against my chest. The warmth of his breath sticks to my skin like a hazy dew. A soft whimper escapes him.
My pulse quickens. I pull his head back and lean in until my lips hover right over his. He looks at me like he's finally letting himself believe me.
“Baby boy,” I whisper.
“If you hurt me again,” he warns, “I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
For a moment, neither of us moves. His hands remain fisted in the back of my shirt. Mine rest against his jaw, my thumb brushing over his cheek. He searches my face like he's trying to memorize it.
“I mean it,” he says quietly.
The words tear into me, and I laugh softly. “I believe it.”
His eyes drop to my mouth. Mine follow his.
Neither of us knows who moves first, but when our mouths finally meet, I swear I feel fireworks. Anders kisses me like he needs it. I kiss him because I need it even more.
Neither of us seems to know what to do with all these years of wanting. We keep breaking apart, touching each other's faces, pulling one another closer, breathing hard against each other's mouths.
The sound he makes when I finally kiss him properly nearly undoes me.
It sets off an unbelievable heat low in my stomach. The fire spreads through me, chasing away every cold, empty place I'd learned to live with.
At some point we make it upstairs. Straddling my waist, Anders moans right into my mouth and I fucking inhale it. My hands make their way beneath his shirt, feeling his soft, warm skin.
“Fuck, Pet’ka,” he whimpers when I pinch his nipples.
“You like?” I breathe, applying a little more pressure to his sensitive buds.
“Mhmmm…yeah…”
His mouth latches onto the side of my neck, sucking the sweetness of desire right out of me.
He isn’t afraid to use his teeth to help leave his mark, and I know he’s been waiting to do this longer than I should admit.
It’s warm and slippery and wet. The tiny sucking noises hit me like a fucking drug, and all I want is more.
More of his teeth grazing over my skin. More of the electrifying feeling of his hand brushing over my beard.
I can’t get over his fucking mouth. It’s a warmth like no other, like I’ve dived right into a pool of heat and lust and passion.
Anders pushes me down, the both of us collapsing onto the bed. It squeaks beneath the weight of the both of us.
Needing to hold onto a shred of control, I immediately roll over, hovering over his body. My hand slowly slides up his throat until it sits right beneath the base of his chin. He cups my cheek, but I grab his hand and squeeze his wrist in a possessive hold, bringing it to my mouth.
I lock eyes with Anders as I savagely suck on his three middle fingers, wetting them with my saliva before I guide them to his own mouth.
His lips part wide as I drive his digits in, muttering “that’s good, sweetheart,” when he surrenders fully, letting me manipulate him in any way I want.
“You’re doing so good. Just keep sucking for me. ”
“It’s good?” he murmurs roughly.
“Mm. You’re almost ready for a cock.”
Pushing his shirt up, I press rough kisses all over him—his neck, his jaw, his ear—before kissing my way down his chest. I flick my tongue over his hardened nipple and suck until he gives me a moan.
The faint noise etches itself into the back of my mind, demanding to take hold of every last drop of restraint.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” I growl against his body.
When I look up at him, it’s game over. He manages his way on top again and kisses his way down my body, stopping when he reaches the painful erection that’s sprung to life in my pants.
“Keep going,” I urge. “Show me how bad you want it, dirty boy.”
Immediately, he mouths me through the fabric, biting and squeezing me, wild and ravenous.
Like he’s wanted this all his life. My cock throbs harder just from the thought of it.
Every sound he makes goes straight to my head.
I can’t think. I can’t fucking breathe. I touch him once and immediately want too much.
I push up on my elbows and sit up straight.
“I want it,” he mutters, pressing hot kisses down my stomach.
“Want what?” I tease, brushing my fingers through his loose curls.
He looks up at me as he leans down and grabs me through the constraints of my pants.
“No,” I shake my head. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Please,” he begs. “Petchka please. Let me suck your cock.”
My eyes flicker. “Come here,” I whisper.
I hold his face in my hand, but he impatiently mashes his lips to mine, kissing me like it’s our first time all over again. “Please,” he whispers into my mouth. His hands travel up and down my chest as he straddles my lap, venturing down to my waistband.
“So impatient,” I murmur in amusement. “I’ve never seen anyone as needy as you—gaghh…Anders, fuck,” I hiss. Sharp pain shoots up my body when he dips his hand beneath my pants and squeezes me without mercy.
“Watch your mouth,” he warns sternly before kissing me so hard our teeth click.
I never expected him to be so…I guess I assumed he’d be a little subservient. But…this is Anders we’re talking about…new, grown-up Anders.
I hook my arm around his waist and pull him tightly against me, unable to fight the urge to reclaim some of the control. Suddenly, I’m up for the challenge.
He audibly gasps as I yank his head back and sink my teeth onto his throat and flick my wet tongue up and down the soft skin. Anders tilts his head to the side slightly. “Hurts,” he whines. “There’s something…wrong with you.”
“You can handle it,” I grunt, clenching my jaw. “You’re not a little boy anymore, are you?”
“No,” he breathes, cupping my length again. “I’m really not…”
The pleasure of him finally yanking my pants down fully disorients me, especially in reaction to the face he makes when he realizes I’m commando.
“Holy fuck,” Anders mutters suddenly, his eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them. “You’re…uncut.”
“Course I am,” I breathe, attempting to laugh while scrambling to catch my breath at the same exact time. “The way God intended, baby.”
I watch in complete amusement, despite breaking from the continuous rush, as Anders runs his fingers through the thickness of my pubic hair—almost like it’s a completely foreign concept to him.
He probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing when he twists a few strands between his fingers and gently tugs.
I fucking revel in how innocent the act is.
Disgusting thoughts fill my mind and it takes everything in me to shove them back down.
Making use of the time, I pull my shirt off before reaching out to run my hand through Anders’ hair. “Take your shirt off,” I instruct him. My heart thumps at a steady pace in my chest, but I can feel my pulse beat all over.
It’s all so exhilarating. Feeling his weight and his warmth against mine. He feels like he belongs here.
I take his hand again and spit in his palm before guiding it down to my rigid length.