Page 30 of From the Ashes

The only word repeating in my head is‘Mine! Mine! Mine!’as I drop my hands and start fumbling with his board shorts. He never changed from his swimwear—I assume because, like me, he was worried about flashing skin in front of each other on the beach. That seems ridiculous now.

The elastic waist makes them easy to get off, and of course he’s not wearing anything else underneath. Then he’s moving backward toward the bed, taking me with him as he kicks his way free of the shorts around his ankles. Mercifully, he’d already taken his shoes off at the front door, so there’s absolutely nothing between us or holding us back as we tumble onto his bed.

Zahir Delacroix is back in my arms. It’s like I can hear a chorus of angels singing all around us. Of course in reality, the air is only filled with our heavy breathing and desperate groans. That still sounds like music to me, though.

He might have been the one to drag us horizontal, but now I twist us so he’s on top of me, wanting to make sure he knowshe’s in charge. We never had strict roles back when we were experimenting, but I’ve topped every guy I’ve fucked since. I’m pretty sure he’s the only one I’ll ever feel safe enough to bottom for.

Right now, however, there’s no time for anything that involved. The desperation is tangible as he continues his assault on my mouth with his own and grinds our hips together. I cling to his sides like a lifebuoy, digging my fingers into his ribs like I want to mark him with bruises.

Actually, that’s exactly what I want to do.

Zahir ismine.I’m ready to give him everything.

If it literally hadn’t been over a decade since I bottomed, I would have begged him to fuck me into the mattress right there and then. As it is, when he shoves his hand between us and wraps his fingers around both our straining erections, thrusting wildly against me, it feels almost just as good.

Well, not really. But damn it, I’ll take every drop of what he’ll give me. The fact that we’re writhing on his bed, scrunching up his sheets, kissing recklessly as we hump and slide, chasing release as one…it all feels impossible and yet inevitable at the same time. Like ever since I left town, we’ve still been tethered together, with an invisible force slowly pulling us back to this predestined reunion.

“Colt,” he moans against my lips.

Just hearing him say my name like that sends electricity shooting through my body, and my balls tighten in anticipation. Suddenly, it’s not enough for me to just lie back and let him do all the work. Yes, I want him to be in charge. But I also have to do something to show how much this means to me, how much I’ve missed him.

With a grunt, I shove him, using my superior strength the way he always melted for back when we were teens. Rolling him over, I break the kiss as I hastily shimmy down his body, pushinghis hips into the bed as I swallow his leaking cock all the way into my throat.

He shouts and bucks, but I hold him steady, sucking hard as if I’m trying to steal the breath from his lungs through his dick. He tastes like the ocean and musk and something my memory recalls as uniquely him. Woodsy and spicy but also unmistakably warm and sunshiny.

“Yes, yes, yes,”he hisses, quivering underneath me.

The temptation to finish him off with my mouth while I jerk my aching cock is strong. But there’s still a shred of my upstairs brain working, and I remember that I want us to be equals in this. No—I wanthimto be in control. I can achieve that without being passive.

Before he can tip over the edge, I release his length, enjoying how it bounces and flicks spit and precum on my chin and his belly. He moans and grimaces, but I head back up his body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along his skin until I reach his jaw, pressing my mouth against it and the corner of his lips.

“I want to make you come now, Zahir,” I rasp, watching his expression intently for any hint that this isn’t okay. I might die if I have to stop. But one word from him, and I will. “I want to come all over you. Can I?”

He takes a ragged breath, but then he nods, his eyes wide as I loom over him. Relief floods through me. This time, it’s me that takes both of us in hand, stroking our members, slippery with spit and precum, knowing it’s not going to take either of us long now.

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but then he just whimpers instead. “Close,” he utters, finally.

I nod, the best I can do to say I feel the same. He’s so fucking beautiful all the time, but in this moment, he looks so perfect andfree.A wave of complicated emotions crashes over me as myorgasm rips through my body. I try to keep my hand moving as I begin to spurt all over him, but I’m shaking from head to toe. That’s when he wraps his fingers around mine, finishing himself off together.

With some effort, I manage to keep my eyes open enough to see him start to come. Long ropes shoot across his taut belly, mixing in like paint with the mess I’ve already made. Except this time, it’s him who’s the canvas.

I’m dizzy and exhausted, but I still slam my mouth back against his, kissing him fervently until our highs begin to fade. Then the kisses get gentler and slower as I try and savor the moment.

I should have known it couldn’t last.

Reality comes crashing over me like a tsunami, hitting me all at once what a selfish ass I’m being. Zahir might have made the first move, but I should have respected him enough to never have let it happen.

Coldness rushes through me and I draw back, nausea churning in my stomach.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, immediately on edge.

But how can I explain? ‘It’s not you, it’s me’? Yeah, right. How lame does that sound? Jesus fuckingChrist.I had one job here and that was to not hurt him again. What do I do? Flash my junk and jump straight into bed with him.

He deserves a million times better than me. Not just for what I did in the past, but because nothing’s really changed in the present. I can’t give him what he needs.

The respect and dignity of coming out of the damn closet. My family’s business is relying on me. All those people’s jobs. My dad’s generational legacy. I know if my parents weren’t such bigots, this wouldn’t be an issue, but the bottom line is they haven’t changed in all this time and I’m not sure how likely it is they ever will.

I’ve messed him around enough for one lifetime. I can’t gamble with his heart again that anything will improve. It’s out of my power just as much as it was as a scared teenager.

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