Page 63 of The Deviation
I wait, but he doesn’t go on. Instead, his lips press together and he drops his gaze. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot, you letting me in like that.”
I nod, but I’m burning up inside. Being this close to him, not being with him, it’s intolerable. “I want you to know me, Johnny.” Leaning back, I uncross my legs and thread them over his hips. His eyes widen in surprise as I move closer. “And I want you to finish your sentence.”
He searches my gaze, mouth open in confusion.
“There are so many reasons why… what?” I demand, though my voice is quaking.
He blinks slowly. Licks his lips. Then he leans in, gathering me in his arms. He presses his cheek to mine, his breath hot in my ear. “There are so many reasons why I love you.”
My arms curl around his shoulders, my legs wind around his hips, locking us together.
“I know I’m not supposed to say that,” he whispers harshly, as if the words themselves might lead us to ruin. “But I can’t hold it back anymore. You’re all I think about. Every day. Every night.” His arms are crushing me to him, his body shaking. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to stop, but I can’t. You’re inside me all the time. I can’t breathe for how stupid in love with you I am.”
A sob wrenches out of me as I turn my head, covering his lips with mine. It’s a hard kiss, desperate and wet with tears. It’s like a dam inside me has broken and all the pain, all the hurt, the longing and the need is gushing out. We stay like that for the longest time. Bodies pressed together. Mouths relearning each other by touch and taste. Finally, reluctantly, Johnny begins to pull back. I chase after him, but he turns his head away.
“This is the part where we stop, yeah?” His voice is hoarse and his fingers dig into my hips, even as he says the words. “We’re supposed to stop.”
“No, Johnny,” I whisper, my hands framing his precious face. “This is the part where I surrender. Because I love you and I don’t want to stop anymore.”
His gaze returns to mine and he releases a long, shuddering breath. “Are you sure?”
My nod is slow, but so very certain. Whatever comes next, whatever becomes of us, I want this to happen. “Make love to me, Johnny. Please.”
TWENTY-SIX
______
JOHNNY
I’ve had this dream so many times already. Calum—in my arms. Loving and wanting me. I’m scared to move, in case I wake myself up. Yet, I can’t possibly keep still.
I remove his shirt first, easing the soft cotton over his head with care. When my fingertips touch down on his pale skin, his shiver sends a surge of satisfaction through me. I take my time exploring his smooth chest. The pebbled nipples and flat stomach. Goddamn, he’s perfect.
My leisurely progress is interrupted when Calum yanks my own t-shirt up and off. “More,” he breathes as he lifts himself up and onto my lap.
I can’t help but grin, even as the weight of him against my rapidly hardening dick has me hissing in a breath.
My arms come around him, and I tilt my head back to take his mouth in a deep, thorough kiss. His tongue spears into my mouth, demanding a rush my heart can’t bear to indulge. We’ve waited so long, denied ourselves so much. Holding him this way is a privilege I refuse to squander.
Pulling free of his mouth, I press our foreheads together. “I want to cherish you.” My hands roam his body at will. Tracing the slender lines of his torso, learning the increased length of his hair, stroking his thighs and sliding beneath his loose cotton shorts to find the rounded curves of his arse.
Pausing there, I pull him closer, urging him to grind on me. He complies and a strangled cry fills my mouth. “Fuck, yes.” Hishead falls to my shoulder, and his panting breaths are hot on my neck as he rides my lap. “Feels so good.”
Too good. After all these lonely months, the slow, steady roll of his hips has my dick riding the edge of release within seconds and I refuse to blow before we even manage to get naked.
With a hand on his chest, I urge him to lie back on the couch. My hands hook behind his knees, and I drag him down the cushions until he’s stretched flat out in front of me.
I take a moment to appreciate the view. His mussed hair and dilated pupils. Lips puffy from our frantic kisses and chest flushed and heaving. When my hungry gaze reaches the bulge straining beneath his shorts, I lick my lips.
“I must confess,” I tell him, reaching out to stroke my fingertips along the bare skin above his waistband, “I can’t decide what I want to do first.” The button and zipper come undone with a few deft movements, and then I’m yanking his shorts and boxers down over his feet. His erection is rigid against his stomach, pulsing lightly as it begs for attention. “I would dearly love to suck on you.” Standing long enough to shed the rest of my clothes, I kneel back on the couch. His knees fall open to make room for me as he watches me with heavy-lidded eyes. “I also want to ride you.” Leaning forwards, I place my hands on either side of his head, supporting my upper body on straight arms while my lower half settles between his parted thighs. His hands lift to stroke my chest, my sides, any part he can reach.
Looking down between our heated bodies, I align our hips so we’re sliding against one another. I keep the pressure light, providing enough friction to drive us to the brink, but not past it. We both moan at the torturous ecstasy of the contact. “Or,” I gasp, my voice husky with restrained desire, “I could sink into that tight hole of yours.” His whimper almost does me in and Ibuck against him. “I could fuck you until you cover me in your come.”
“Do it,” he cries. His fingernails rake across my back as he tries desperately to pull me closer. “Do anything. I don’t care. I want it all.”
My arms buckle and I lower my weight on top of him. Our mouths meet in a bruising kiss as I reach between us, taking hold of our dicks in a mess of pre-come and sweat. “This first.” For so long all I’ve wanted is to lose myself in his touch again, just like this.
“So hot. Love you so much.” I breathe the words into his mouth, my gaze locked on his as we both rut into the heat of my hand. “Come with me.”