Page 54 of The Sound Of Us

I feel for the beat of his heart and know with every quick, strong thump that his need for me is as desperate as mine for him.

And then his mouth is on mine. He makes the first move. Turning his head, he slips his hand around my neck and pulls me down to him.

The gentle brush of his lips against mine is another of the many compromises I make for him. At another time, with another person, I wouldn’t have bothered with such gentle strokes. But now, I savour his gentle exploration of my mouth. Encourage him with equally gentle licks inside his mouth.

His tongue comes out and I lick across it. I feel his gasp in the vibration of his throat, against which my hand currently rests.

And all I can think of as I follow him into this gentle bliss is how I could make this man truly mine when he belongs to someone else.

Chapter 28

Axel

I’m drowning in this chaos. This push and pull of my conscience. I’m entirely responsible for this complication in my life. And I’ve dragged two people into it. My desperate need for this physical pleasure I’ve never felt before… paid for by Eli and Frank. Both innocent bystanders in this hurricane ripping through me.

It’s the desperation. It’s the desperation I can’t get past. This inability to walk away, to say no, is shocking and terrifying.

But my curiosity over what it feels like to be near Eli has turned into an uncontrollable need to feel him. And as his hand now travels down my chest, my stomach, and moves lazily along the waistband of my sweats, I begin to wonder if I have a death wish. If this one moment is worth dying over if Frank ever found out.

I find myself gripping Eli’s hand at my waistband, moving with him while he sucks into my mouth and his other hand rests lightly over my throat. I crane my neck, wanting more of his mouth without wanting to disturb his fingers tracking my waistband.

He gives me more. Jesus fuck, so much more than I’ve ever had. And I risk my life a little bit more. Entwining my fingers with Eli’s at my waistband, I guide his hand into my sweats, widening my thighs for him.

He shifts, leaving my mouth and pulling me to him until his chest is pressed to my back. He spreads his legs, causing my legs to fall even more open for his hand. His other hand slides down from my throat and into my pants and—

Ah, fuck. Eli’s hot palms glide down over my hipbones, his thumbs meeting at the root of my dick. He presses slightly there, and my hips jerk upward, asking for more.

But he doesn’t give me more. Instead, with his fingers splayed over the inside of my thighs and his thumbs grazing the innermost part of my thighs, he moves his hands up and down. Massaging the insides of my thighs, fluttering touches to my balls but never to my cock.

I’m leaking, desperate for this and more, the back of my head digging into Eli’s chest and my hips moving of its own volition as the moon and the starless sky witness the gasps and moans being pulled out of my mouth. Eli’s harsh breaths join mine, unafraid of our spectators.

Then Eli brings one hand up my chest, pulling at the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I help him, desperate for whatever plan he has to touch me more.

With one hand now free from its sleeve, Eli has unrestricted access to my body. His hands race up and down, from my neck, down my naked chest, over my abs and back into my pants.

But this won’t do, too. Mindless, and with no value for my life or for my godly confessions to Frank on our wedding day, I lift my hips and slip my pants down over my ass.

Eli groans. I wish he could hear how beautiful he sounds.

Almost lying flat on the boulder now and cradled tightly to Eli, I writhe beneath his touch.

Yes. The answer is yes. I would face the barrel of Frank’s gun for just this one moment. If the price for this one moment is death, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay because nothing, nothing I have ever experienced or ever dreamed of compares to how this man makes me feel.

If I whispered his name, if I told him to never stop touching me, he wouldn’t hear me, so I move his hand to my cock so he would know.

“More, Eli,” I whisper, turning my head so my lips touch his throat. “Fuck me with your hands,” I gasp out, my breath against his neck.

He responds as if he has heard the words. Listening to my breath against his neck and the vibration of my voice against his fingers, his other hand closes over my cock.

I cry out with the contact and Eli’s fingers stroke my throat, as if pleased with my response.

His thumb strokes over the head of my dick, spreading thick pre-cum over the top. It’s unbearable, this sensation. His hand stroking me like this. I want more. I want it harder. If this is what will bring me to the barrel of Frank’s gun, then I want everything this moment has to offer.

As if he knows, Eli’s fingers tighten around my cock and he begins to fist me. From root to tip, he draws my lust through my body. His downward stroke ends in an open palmed roll of my balls and four flattened fingers rubbing down my taint. The upward stroke follows the same path until his hand caresses my dick again, pulling upward, hard and sure. I swell under his confident strokes, so ready. And I tell him so with my body.

I tell him with the vibrations echoing from my throat, my breath falling onto his neck. I encourage him with my arm snaking back and around his neck and my fingers clutching at his hair, pulling him closer to me. I tell him in all the ways I can how much I want this. How much I need this. Need him.

And he hears me. He responds to me as if he’s heard these prayers.

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