Page 111 of I Think They Love You

Whatever it is, Denz prays it never stops.

“Ah-ah.”

“All right?” Braylon asks between measured thrusts.

“Mm-hmm.”

Denz doesn’t trust himself with actual words, too afraid he’ll shout things he can never take back, no matter how hard he tries. So, he savors the chest kisses. Allows Braylon to yank him back on his thick cock.

Braylon never asks him to be quieter. To stop swearing at the ceiling. To be anything but himself. No, he offers Denz a crinkle-eyed smile that’s bare and frighteningly boyish like they are back in those first months together in Athens.

“Still okay?”

Denz exhales out, “Yeah,” instead of the more colorful responses his brain had in mind.

“I can—” Braylon’s hips draw back.

“No,” Denz says more urgently than he planned to. “Deeper.”

“Okay, but I’m gonna—”

“I know.”

He can tell by the way Braylon’s nose scrunches. The tight corners of his mouth. The cords of his biceps going taut. Denz knows the signs. He wants to stop them… just a few more minutes.

Thing is, Denz typically likes sex this way—fast. Over before it starts. Unattached orgasms are easier to walk away from. Strictly a physical thing. When it’s about getting off and not making a memory, he can handle that.

What he’s struggling with is how he wants Braylon to change the angle. Test Denz’s limits. He doesn’t want quick. He wants rough fingers pinning his hands above his head. He wants their shared panting, his toes curling into the sheets, the pleasant ache in his lower spine from arching so hard to meet Braylon’s thrusts.

He wants Braylon to make him beg.

He’s achingly hard again. Just the feel of his erection flopping against his belly, the tip wet and sensitive, is too much and not enough.

“One more minute.”

Braylon’s shoulders tremble.

“Stay there. Another second.”

“Denz, you—”

“Please.”

Braylon whines but obeys. He gives and Denz takes. Then, Denz squeezes around him and Braylon’s quaking, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. His eyes are wide and blissed out, but so focused on Denz’s next command.

“Come,” Denz says, shuddering. “I’ve got you.”

And Braylon does.

Denz wraps his legs around stuttering hips. He grins intothe crook of Braylon’s neck as everything comes in a thirty-foot wave, crashing around them.

Not once does he bother to come up for air.

Morning arrives too soon.

Ribbons of orangey sunlight burst through the windows. Sunrise burns against Denz’s eyelids. He regrets not closing the curtains. Then he remembers what happened last night and…

That’s fantastic. All of Atlanta saw him having sex.Twice.

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