Page 169 of Reckless Hearts

I reach for the lube in my bedside table, my hand hesitating over the condoms.

“Do…do we need protection?” I ask.

Seb’s eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide as he shakes his head. “There’s been no one since you.”

I don’t deserve to feel the happiness that shoots through me.

“There’s been no one for me either.”

We just stare at each other for a few heartbeats.

“Looks like we’ve both got a whole lot of celibacy to make up for,” I say finally, reaching for him.

Seb’s laugh is breathless. “I’m sure you’ve got some suggestions on the best way to do that.”

I kiss his mouth, and then I kiss down his jawline to his neck, then across his collarbone.

I take my time, relearning every inch of him. My lips trail down his chest, pausing to lavish attention on each sensitive spot I remember. Seb’s fingers tangle in my hair, his breathing coming in pants.

I trace the curve of his hipbone with my tongue, feeling the muscle jump beneath his skin. His hands flex in my hair, not directing, just holding on as if he needs an anchor. When I nip gently at the tender skin of his inner thigh, his whole body jolts.

When I finally take him in my mouth, Seb’s gasp is like music. I look up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there nearly undoes me. There’s love in his eyes, raw and unguarded, and I pour every ounce of my feelings into my actions.

I’m worshiping his cock with my mouth while I prep him. I twist my fingers, remembering exactly how to make him fall apart. His body remembers too, clenching around me as his back bows off the bed. Sweat gleams on his chest, and I have to taste it, have to chase the salt on his skin with my tongue while he writhes beneath me.

“Fuck, Marcus, I won’t last long if you keep that up,” he moans as I curl my fingers to hit his prostate. “I need you inside me.”

“As my man commands,” I say.

I tug him onto his back because seeing his face is the most important thing to me.

Hovering over him, I take a moment to look down at the man I love.

His curls spill wildly over the pillow, his eyes glazed with want and need, lips red from our kissing, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow pants.

There is nothing more I want than to be inside him.

He hooks his legs around me as I slide in, feeling his heat and tightness. He surrounds me like a vice of heat, each inch forward drawing sounds from both of us that echo in the quiet room. His fingers find my biceps, grip tightening with each careful thrust until we’re fully joined. The pulse point in his throat jumps wildly, and I have to lean down to taste it, to feel his life beating against my tongue.

“Marcus,” he groans my name in a way that means I have to kiss him.

It feels the same but different.

Because there are no barriers between us now. This is it for both of us.

This is it forever, Seb and me, moving together.

I love seeing the pure bliss written across his features, his face open and unguarded.

I feel him getting close, his body tensing beneath me. I slow my pace, drawing out each thrust, savoring every sensation.

“Look at me,” I whisper, and when his perfect blue eyes meet mine, it’s like the world falls away. There’s just us, just this moment.

Every roll of his hips meets mine in a dance we’ve perfected yet feels brand new. When he throws his head back, exposing the column of his throat, I have to chase the flush spreading down his chest with my lips.

Seb’s hands roam my back, pulling me closer.

“Marcus.” My name is like a prayer on his lips.