Page 39 of From the Ashes

“Take me to bed,” I utter, starting to shuffle us in that direction. “Please, Colt.”

He grins. “If that’s what you want?” He’s paused the kiss now and is walking backward toward his bedroom, our hands interlinked again.

“More than anything,” I say. “We don’t have to do much. I just…will you hold me?”

His expression softens and he squeezes my fingers as he leads the way. “I’ll hold you, Zahir. And if you want to keep our clothes on, we absolutely can. But just know that a clothing-free option is available as well. Also—orgasms.”

I groan, fighting my knee-jerk reaction to take things slow. What does slow even mean when we have so many years of history between us?

“Orgasms sound good,” I admit.

A wicked glint sparkles in his eyes. “They do, don’t they?”

His bedroom has about as much personality as the rest of the apartment, but I’m not really paying much attention to the décor if I’m being honest. He’s kissing me again and now we’ve reached our destination, I pull my hands from his and slip them under his T-shirt, feeling his hot skin against my fingertips.

“Zee,” he murmurs into my mouth, and my entire body shivers.

I don’t see any point in wasting more time than we already have, so I keep pushing my hands up, lifting his shirt over his head. Still kissing my mouth and trying to maneuver us toward the bed, he mimics me, exposing my torso.

He’s grinning as we tackle our belts and zippers next, and I laugh along with him. Last time was so intense and probablyclouded by both of us hesitating, unsure if we should be doing what we did. Now we’re both in this together, on purpose, and I can feel myself having fun like I did that whole magical summer after graduation.

“You’re my sunshine,” I mumble between kisses.

“You’re my ocean,” he replies automatically, and my heart melts that he remembers our silly little saying. Of course he does. What we had wasn’t a meaningless fling like I thought. I’ve been so harsh on him for so many years.

I’m very relieved that I got it so wrong.

We were naked last time as well, but that was all a bit of a blur and over far too quickly. This time, he pauses to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on my waist as he breathes heavily and lets his eyes graze over my features. I rest my hands on his shoulders and do the same, drinking in all of his golden skin and taut muscles. Despite many years on the East Coast, he still smells like sunshine to me, hence the nickname. I wonder if I still smell like the ocean to him.

My cock is half-hard, but when he leans in, it’s to kiss my stomach rather than give me any relief. But then he’s sucking and nipping at my hipbone, and his fingers are digging into the flesh of my ass, and I have a feeling he’s trying to mark me.

Mark me as his.

I groan and card my fingers through his soft, thick hair, giving him space to do whatever he wants. Having lost so much time between us, now it feels like it’s standing still.

Eventually, he shifts back on the bed, drawing me down with him so we’re lying side by side once more, kissing mouths and caressing fingers over sides, backs, and arms. When he slips his middle finger against the tip of my crack, he pauses and leans away slightly to look into my eyes.

“Yes,” I say before he can even ask me anything. I know what he wants, and it’s the same thing as me.

I have to feel him inside me again or I might just burst into flames.

He only tears his eyes off me to reach into his nightstand and pull out lube and condoms. Part of me wants to tell him we don’t need the rubbers. We never used them before as neither of us had fooled around with anyone else previously. Obviously, a lifetime has passed since then, and we’ve both had a lot of sex with strangers. I know I didn’t have any issues at my last medical examination, but now doesn’t feel like the moment to stop and ask Colt about it.

And actually, considering all the harrowing emotions we’ve put ourselves through, I can appreciate taking this part slow. By giving ourselves a little extra protection physically, it somehow makes me feel better psychologically as well. Like I might be jumping off the cliff, but I do still have a parachute on.

For now, he leaves the condom box and instead squeezes a little lube onto his fingers. I’d kind of forgotten how much he insisted on taking care of me before. Of both of us. His love language is definitely about actions, which is why up and leaving was the only way he could break things off, I suppose.

No, no more of that. The past needs to stay in the past. We’re living for the present.

It’s not difficult to be in the here and now when he rolls me onto my back, spreading my legs so he can kneel between them. He props himself up with one hand, hovering over me and brushing our noses together. With his other hand, he runs a slippery finger up and down my crack.

“You still like it like this?” he asks.

I’ll like it anyway with you,I think. But I simply nod to answer his question. I want to be face to face for this time. I like being on my back with him crowding me. In that way, this is actually similar to last time. But as he kisses my mouth andbegins to finger my tight hole, I know in my bones I don’t have to worry about him bolting off on this occasion.

He promised to cook me dinner. He’s not going to fuck and run.

And this doesn’t feel like fucking as he gradually stretches me out and kisses me tenderly. It feels like making love.

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