Page 88 of Only You

The contralto voice of the singer broke over us like shivers, and Daniel pulled me into a slow dance with him. Pressing my head against his shoulder, the sound of his heartbeat merged with the pulse of the song. The lyrics were sweet, perhaps too sweet, and yet he was right. If this was how I made him feel, then Daniel was a goner.

I was a goner too.

We danced, and as the drum machine came in, I touched Daniel’s nose with mine. I breathed in his familiar scent mixed with the lingering woodsmoke from the bonfire and teased our lips together. We fell into a sweet, delicate kiss. Breaking it, Daniel wound his arms around me, bending me back as he breathed the lyrics of the song into my ear. Slowly, he walked me backward toward his bed.

He must have set the song to repeat because it started again as soon as it ended. He lifted my T-shirt off, rubbing his face along my neck and chest, taking a deep breath against my skin before pressing kisses along my collarbones.

I gripped his strong shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt in my hands and tugging as he nosed against a ticklish spot behind my ear. “Take your shirt off,” I whispered.

He pulled free long enough to grab the back of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it to the floor. His body was strong and tanned, and I ran my hands over his chest, before leaning in and smelling him like he’d done to me. I loved the scent of his skin, and I pressed kisses wherever I could reach.

Daniel’s hands moved on to my jeans. I helped him take them off, kicking them, along with my underwear and socks, to the floor. Daniel’s jeans and boxers joined mine in the heap. We inched up the bed together, hands everywhere, and mouths too. The sweetness of the moment far exceeded any expectations I’d had for the night. I was drunk on us, floating away in Daniel’s embrace. We thrust against each other, kissing like the world began and ended in each other. We chased orgasm gently, moving with the music as the song began again.

Only you.

“Peter,” he groaned in my ear. “I want you so much.”

I whispered, “I’m here. You have me.”

Pre-cum slicked our stomachs. He ground down against me, cuddling me close as we moved together. “Want you even closer.”

“I’m here,” I whispered, kissing his neck, drowning in the size of him. Bigger than me, bigger than Adam, he covered me completely with his body so that I felt safe, protected, and owned.

As he kissed me again, I gave my mouth up to him. Our chins scraped, beard burn starting already.

“Want to fuck you,” Daniel confessed.

“All right,” I whispered. “Fuck me.”

We kissed and dry humped each other, our urgency increasing with messy nips, licks, and sucks on necks, jaws, lips, and cheeks.

“You want that?”

“So much.”

Rolling us to our sides, he moved his hand down, sliding his fingertips over my hole in teasing, frustrating strokes. “Damn, Peter,” he whispered. “I want to open you up.”

I groaned, humping against him to get more friction on my dick. “Do it then.”

Daniel brought his hand up to his mouth, sucked on two of his fingers, and then moved them back down to slide wetly over my asshole.

“You make all these hot little sounds,” he whispered in awe.

I whimpered.

He groaned. “Do you want me closer too?”

“Yes.”

The blood rushing under my skin was like a river heading south, making me harder and harder, needier and needier with every beat of my heart. I pushed my cock against the soft treasure trail on his belly, whining as his fingertips danced over my hole. Soon I was shaking, and so was he.

He tossed his head back, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face. “God, Peter, you make me want to do so much.”

“What do you want?” I whispered. “Tell me. I’ll give you anything.”

“We can’t,” he said, shaking his head.

“Why not?” I kissed his neck, pressing my lips to his pounding pulse. “Tell me.”

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