Page 78 of The Blame Game

Shea grasped his hips, pinning them to the mattress, and lowered his mouth over Dom’s cock again.

It was a slow, steady glide, so achingly perfect it made Dom feel like he was floating.

He found himself carding his hand through Shea’s hair, murmuring indistinct things about how good he was, how perfect, and when Dom finally came it was like he floated over the edge so softly there was no pain, only soft, gentle pleasure that went on and on.

It was like lying on a beach with the warm surf rolling over him in wave upon wave of bliss.

And when it was over, there was nothing but slow, syrupy contentment in his body.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dom looked so relaxed, so peaceful that despite the insistent pulse of need in Shea’s cock where it was pressed between his body and the sheets, he stayed in the same position.

He pressed soft kisses to Dom’s hips, feeling the flutter of a vein under the fragile skin. He rubbed his nose along the vee there, taking his time to enjoy the spots he’d never been able to linger on.

Dom’s legs grew heavier as Shea breathed in the rich, warm scent of Dom’s skin.

It was enough to do this, to know that Dom was alive.

An orgasm would be good but it was less urgent than reassuring himself that Dom would be fine.

Dom’s hand, still tangled in his hair, grew heavier too, his breathing softening into something smooth and even. Close to peaceful sleep.

Shea didn’t want to move but although he wasn’t a small man, he couldn’t stay in that position forever, supporting Dom’s weight while he slept, so he reluctantly shifted back.

Dom’s grip tightened reflexively in his hair before his hand fell away. Shea pressed a kiss to his inner thigh, then gently eased his legs down to the mattress.

Dom awoke, just enough to blink at him and Shea soothed him with a quiet sound.

But Dom reached up, touching his face. “You didn’t …”

“Doesn’t matter,” Shea said, settling on the bed beside him.

“It matters to me.” Dom shook his head like he was trying to pull himself together, then slid a hand around the back of Shea’s neck. “I want you to come. Please.”

It was the please that unraveled Shea, made him willing to do anything for Dom. Or maybe it was the memory of the vulnerability that had been a palpable thing last night, Dom’s slurred voice confessing his innermost feelings.

Shea didn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful that Dom didn’t remember. Grateful mostly, because Dom would have run.

Shea knew with every fiber of his being that if Dom remembered, he would have ended things between them, cut Shea out of his life and never looked back. Anything to protect himself from someone knowing the real him.

Anything to protect the frightened, scarred pieces inside him.

And Shea had tried to tell him the truth, he’d been prepared for that ending but Dom had said he needed him …

And Shea was only human.

Flawed and imperfect and aching for everything that Dom did willingly give him that he’d let himself be talked out of it.

Guilt settled heavily in Shea’s stomach but as he looked into Dom’s half-lidded eyes now, he knew that he’d make the same decision all over again.

Anything to have Dom in his bed looking at him like that.

Anything to have Dom’s scent in his nose and his taste on his tongue and the feel of his fingers in his hair.

Shea rose to his knees, his cock bobbing in the air between them.

With a gentle sigh, Dom reached up and licked his palm, wrapping it around Shea’s length. He tugged at his cock, meeting and holding Shea’s gaze.

---