Page 49 of Breakaway
I pull off and press my lips to his hip. He grabs my shoulders and hauls me up and kisses me hard, tasting himself on my tongue, his hand going to my belt. He gets it open. Gets the zipper down. His hand wraps around my cock and strokes and my whole body goes still.
"I want you inside me," he says. Calm and direct and his eyes on mine.
I reach for the lube on the nightstand. He opens his legs and I settle between them and slick my fingers. I press one inside him and he exhales and his eyes stay on mine. His body opens and his jaw loosens and his hand grips the sheet beside his hip. I add a second finger and curl them and his back lifts off the mattress and the sound he makes is sharp and raw and his cock twitches against his stomach.
"More. Wes, more."
A third finger. I work him open and I take my time with it because I have time. Because there is no clock and no flight and no door to listen for. His hips are rocking onto my hand and his cock is leaking against his stomach, a slick line from the head to his navel, and he is watching me watching him and his face is open and hungry and entirely mine.
"Now," he says. "I'm ready."
I slick myself and line up and press the head of my cock against him and push in. Slow. His legs come up around my hips and his hands grip my shoulders and I watch his face as his body takes me in. His mouth opens. His brow pulls tight and then smooths. His fingers dig into my back and then his eyes open and find mine and stay.
"Slow," he says. "Like that."
I move. Deep and steady and unhurried. Each stroke full, his body tight and hot around me, his legs pulling me closer onevery push. His cock is hard between us, pressed against my stomach, slick with precome, and every time I thrust deep he makes a sound that is low and wrecked and patient all at once. I shift my angle and his breath catches and his nails scrape down my arms.
"There. Right there. Don't stop."
I lace my fingers in his hand beside his head and wrap my other hand around his cock and stroke him in time with my hips. His body is taut under me. His face is flushed and his mouth is open. His eyes are dark and watching me. I am looking at him and I realize I don't need to be careful here.
"I love you," I say.
His hand goes still on my shoulder. His eyes search my face.
"I love you, Luca," I say again.
"I love you, too." No pause. No beat. His voice cracks on it and his hand comes up to my face and his fingers press into my jaw. "I love you, Wes."
I feel every word in my chest and my throat and the place where his body is holding me. He pulls my face down and kisses me and I thrust deep and stay and his whole body tightens around me. I stroke him faster, my grip firm, my thumb running over the slick head on every pass, and his hips stutter and his breath goes ragged against my mouth.
He comes. Hot across his stomach and my hand, his back arched, his mouth open against my cheek, his body clenching around me in waves. I come right after. Bury myself deep and hold and let go, my forehead pressed against his, both of us breathing the same air, his arms around my back and his mouth against my temple saying my name into my skin.
We lie still, his hand is on my back drawing slow lines between my shoulder blades. His breathing slows against my chest.
I pull out carefully and reach for the towel on the nightstand. I clean us both up with slow hands and he watches me withoutspeaking. I drop the towel on the floor and lie back down and he rolls into me, his head on my chest, his palm flat over my heart.
"Did you mean it?" he says.
"Which part?"
"Don't do that." He lifts his head and looks at me. "Did you mean it."
"I meant it before tonight. I think I've meant it for months."
He puts his head back down. His finger traces my collarbone. "I meant it the day you handed me gelato and remembered my order from the week before."
I press my mouth against the top of his head. His hair smells like salt and sunscreen.
"Luca?"
"Mhm."
"I love you."
"I know." His voice is going loose at the edges. He is almost asleep. "I love you, Wes. Don't let me forget to rate the wine from dinner."
"Go to sleep."
