Page 28 of Love Punch

“The end, stupid.”

“He loses.”

“Is that really the end of the film?”

“May as well be,” said Bradley sullenly.

“Why are you being so fucking obtuse?” I rolled away from him and propped myself up on one elbow. My eyes had adjusted and I could just barely see him in the dark. “’Adrian! Adrian!’ He loses his fight. And he gets the girl.”

After a moment of silence Bradley admitted, “I think I always turned it off when he lost.”.

Silence again. I hated silence. Especially when I felt we had so much to say. “So…feelings?” I pressed.

“Feelings,” Bradley echoed. There was another very pregnant pause. “I have…feelings for you. Have done for a long time. Please say something back. Even if it’s a rejection. Please. I’d rather…”

He tailed off as I reached out for his face in the darkness, cupping his cheeks in my hands. I leaned in, and could feel his breath ghosting over my face. Finally, after what felt like eons, we were both brave enough to close the distance and my lips were on his.

The kiss was slow, searching. We were two people who’d been waiting for years for this and now we were finally getting what we wanted. I savoured him like a sip of expensive wine, and he did the same to me.

Bradley’s hand caressed my face, and I let one of mine move down to his chest. I felt silly in my button-up pyjamas whilst he was lying there in just his shorts, but I didn’t want to push him any faster than he wanted. Instead, my hand feathered over his stomach and towards the waistband of his--

I wrenched out of the kiss. “Wait. Are you naked?” My palm brushed bare skin—there was definitely no waistband.

Bradley chuckled. “Maybe. You know I sleep naked.”

“No, I don’t. I literally control your clothes shopping. I always buy you pyjama shorts.”

“I wear them! Sometimes.”

“You let your assistant into your bed for a talk whilst you were naked?”

“I think we’ve gone a little bit beyond that now, don’t you?” Bradley smiled against my lips as he pulled me back in for the kiss. Feeling brave, I let my hand continue exploring, brushingagainst the warm silkiness of his erection. He was hard as steel , and I could tell his size was certainly nothing to complain about. He shivered each time my hand brushed it, never gripping, never doing any more than a quick tease.

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he whined between kisses. I swiped my thumb over his cockhead, sweeping away the bead of precome I found there. He thrust his hips, pushing his erection through my fist, and then his hands were at my neck, shaking as he tried to unbutton the pyjamas. When he stuttered, he pulled, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the room.

“Those were expensive silk,” I muttered as he moved to pull my trousers down too.

“Bill me,” he chuckled, ripping the trousers down my legs as I shimmied the pyjama top off and dropped it to the floor.

We were both brilliantly, deliciously naked and I couldn’t wait for more of him. I reached down to grab his cock as he did the same to me. The feeling of that callused palm on me was heaven as he pulled back the foreskin. Every movement he made was quick and rough—no surprise there. Sex with Bradley was like everything else with him: he owned it.

One hand landed on my thigh, and suddenly I was being flipped so that I was on my side, the little spoon to Bradley’s much bigger one. He thrust his cock between my thighs as he pulled at mine.

“Don’t think I’m prepped for that thing,” I said cautiously, feeling the thigh length between my legs.

“Don’t worry, love. I want you just like this,” said Bradley as he pushed between my thighs, precum creating a slick trail for him to use at his disposal. His hand was rough on my cock, and he kissed and bit at my earlobe with each punch of his hips. Fuck, I wanted him inside me. But that could wait—for a little while.

He stroked my length until I was groaning his name, begging for release, and my thighs were slick with sweat and precum.“I’m going to come,” he growled, biting down on my ear again. “You are too.”

The permission—or command—was all I needed to spill over his hand and the expensive silk sheets. Then Bradley was coming too, coating the inside of my thighs with his seed. It dripped down onto the bed and mixed with my own as I laid there, panting.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“That’s next time,” Bradley quipped, kissing the side of my neck before rolling away. “Really should have put a towel down,” he said, handing me something to wipe myself down with.

“I know.” I gave my thighs a thorough wipe and then attacked the sticky patch on the bed. “Wait. Are these my pyjamas?”

“Maybe.” I could hear the smile in Bradley’s voice as he gently wiped down the back of my thighs with something that felt distinctly like the shirt that matched the ruined pyjama trousers I now held in my hand. “Now we can both sleep naked.”

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