Page 100 of Hamartia
Up on my knees, I settle myself where I need to be, stroking the head of my dick over his still tight hole a few times. The desperately high noise that leaves him as I do this isn’t one I’ve heard him make before and it forces me to do it for a bit longer. When he lets out a groan of impatience, I push in. It’s frighteningly tight, the first push, trying to breach this tiny space with the blunt throbbing head of my cock. I can see my hands trembling.
But then it’s in and I’ve never felt anything like it.
His mouth is close to the hot, wet heat I can feel wrapping around my cock, really fucking close, but this is so fucking perfect that I think my head lifts off my shoulders for a second. I feel lucky to be allowed inside it for even heartbeat, it’s that good.
His body feels like it’s sucking me in, a slow pull inward that gets hotter and hotter the deeper I go. I can feel every bump and ridge of his body over my cock as I push in and each breath comes with some new unexplored sensation. He bites and pants against his lips, gripping hold of my arms in a way that borders on painful. I hope there are marks there when I look tomorrow. I lean in and press my forehead to his as I fight the urge tofuck.
“You feel…fucking hell, Jae, holy shit. You’re so perfect. So fucking hot in here. I can’t…I’m not gonna last.”
He kisses me, panting against my mouth, body tense and vibrating beneath me.
“Wait…just wait one moment.”
He drops his legs so that they bracket my hips and then he’s gripping his cock, jerking himself rough and quick. He’s not hard, I don’t think, but he pulls on his cock like he is. Then he’s moving. Short shallow circles of his hips like he’s trying to…like he’slooseninghimself on my dick.
Holy shitI’ve never felt anything like it. Like he’s stroking my cock from the inside out. My body’s straining with the effort of holding off my orgasm and so I can only watch and breathe and try not to come as he moves, until the circling of his hips becomes something else, until he’s…fucking himself on me.
My brain sort of falls offline, I think, as he lifts his hips up off the bed and falls back on my cock. He’s watching me as he does it, calm look in his eye, only the hitch of his breath as he hits something he likes.
“Okay,” he says.
I grab his hips and help him do what he’s been doing, but it changes the flow of his movements and he’s not falling on me now but being pulled and pushed while I thrust up and down. I know when I’ve found the right rhythm because his whole body reacts like he’s been shocked, head falling back and his back arching almost impossibly. Then he lets out something that sounds like a scream.
Ineedhim closer. On me. Smothering me. Need to taste his skin and hear his breaths and feel his fucking heart beat inside his chest.
I grab hold of him and pull him up onto me and fuck upwards, clawing and clutching at his back, hands moving over every inch of skin I can touch, mouthing at his throat and collarbone and chest as he rides me upright.
“You’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful, I missed you so much…fuck.” I’m babbling, I know that. Sex-crazed words into his neck, against his ear, the sweat of his skin on my tongue as I lick across his pulse point. He tastes sweet and clean and so fucking delicious.
“I love how you feel inside me, Raphael.” He moans, before a few words in Korean spill from his mouth. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
I grab his face with both hands as I kiss the words from his mouth, pulling his head to my chest. “I’m going to come…fuck, Jae…I’m…”
I make a move to push him back, to pull out, but he keeps hold of me, legs tightening around me.
“Inside,” he whispers.
I’m in no state to refuse him so I push him back down onto the mattress and thrust into him once, twice, and a third before I’m coming inside him. I feel him tense and I wonder if he’s coming too, but his hands are nowhere near his cock. He meets every pound of my hips with one of his own, perfect tight strong body arching up into mine.
It’s only when I sit up to pull out do I feel it, the sticky wetness between us. He came. Without me touching him, without touching himself. I feel ridiculously proud of that, though I’m sure he did most of the work himself.
He reaches across to his bedside where a small black wooden box sits, and pulls out some tissues which he wipes his chest with, then between his legs. It’s intimate and weirdly hot watching him do it. Then he’s settling on his side next to me, the front of his body pressed to the side of mine. I feel his hand in my hair, smoothing the damp lengths back off my forehead.
“You are getting better at fucking men,” he says, panting.
When I turn to look at him he’s not even smiling. Just pondering.
“Have you been practicing?”
“I’m not sure which part of that to be insulted about.” I pinch him lightly on the thigh.
He looks fucked out as he smiles and I feel proud of that too. “It was a compliment.”
“Well, I haven’t been practicing. I mean, unless you count all the times I’ve fucked you in my head. In that case…yeah, I have. Non-stop.”
I grin this dopey grin at him and he smiles back, cheekbones high and eyes almost closed. He traces his fingers lightly over my torso. Over the tattoo of our first album name, badly etched, across my hip bone. It hurt like a fucker, but all I feel is pleasure now as he draws softly over it. I think of the shop front on Venice Beach where I got it done and about where I am now and it makes something light up inside my head.
I want his name somewhere on me. He deserves that. Even if this flickers out and dies, as all things that burn as brightly as this do, he deserves that. He matters more than that first album ever did. And if I don’t get to keep him, if he doesn’t want this—anything serious—with me, then I need to know that this fucking happened. That I didn’t dream it. Because every moment I get to spend with him feels exactly like that.