Page 22 of Chance's Choice
He tastes sweet like cola, and I can’t get enough of it. I can’t get enough of him. We’ve spent the week talking on the phone and via text, but that hasn’t been nearly enough for me. Having him in my lap with our mouths moving against each other isheaven. There’s no other word for it. It’s like coming home. This is where I’m meant to be. It’s where I’ve been meant to be since I was fifteen.
Admittedly, we weren’t ready then.
But we’re more than ready now.
The kiss is turning desperate and needy. There’s fire in my veins and I can’t help gripping Kade’s hips as he shifts to straddle me properly, holding him down against my hardening cock. I ache for him. Last weekend we kept things slow and chaste, the both of us needing to process the fact that we were each suddenly dating our high school crush and best friend. But after a week of reacquaintance, of lighthearted flirting and promises to properly explore our chemistry this weekend, I can’t hold back any longer.
Thankfully, it seems like Kade’s on the same page. He rocks his hips slowly as we kiss, grinding against me until we’re both breathing heavily into each other’s mouths.
“You feel so good,” he tells me while we part for air, still rocking and writhing on my lap. His eyes are closed, his head tossed back. He’s a vision in a polo shirt and black business pants. “Chance…fuck…I could come from just this.”
Fingers flexing at his slim hips, I groan at the thought. “Do it, baby. Come for me, and I’ll clean you up.Daddywill clean you up.”
Kade’s breathing hitches and his rocking loses its rhythm for a beat or two.
I can’t help grinning. Oh, I am so playing with this. “You liked that, huh?”
He nods.
“I need words, Kaden.”
“Y-yes,” he stammers, rolling his hips with a bit more urgency, “yes, Daddy, I…oh fuck!”
“Such a potty mouth on my boy,” I chuckle, even though I know I caused his exclamation. “What happened to rule number two, baby?”
“N-not during sex,” he stammers, then finally glares down at my hand. “And it was your fault anyway.”
What can I say? I’m an impatient bastard sometimes, and with his back arched, he gave me perfect access to the front of his pants…and he’s not wearing a belt, which made it easier to pop the button, lower his zipper and wriggle my hand inside the soft, rapidly dampening cotton front of his underwear.
“Ch-Chance,” he whines when I squeeze his length and stroke, rubbing my thumb through the precum at the head of his cock, using it to help slick the way for my palm. His hands scrabble for purchase on my shoulders, and he starts to move frantically now, fucking my fist and breathing hard.
My jeans are unbearably tight over my own throbbing cock now, but my release can wait. I want so badly to push Kade over the edge. To watch him fall apart as bliss washes over his pretty face. I don’t think it will take much longer. Not with how hard he’s breathing, or the way his fingers are gripping my shirt, fisting the material at my shoulders as he thrusts over and over into my hand, the movement giving me hints of the friction I desperately crave myself.
He whimpers when I let his cock go, but I can’t stop myself from grabbing at his hips again, fucking the bulge of my denim-clad erection up against his answering hardness. He slams his lips back down onto mine in a sloppy, heated, desperate, utterly perfect kiss until he starts to cry out his release. I can barely feel it through my jeans, but there’s definitely a rush of warmth as he tenses and then pulses against me, coming hard in his underwear.
Even though I haven’t followed him over the edge, I gentle my movements, kissing him tenderly as he comes back down from his high, smoothing my hand down his back and over his thighs. His face his flushed pink, his blonde hair mussed, a sheen of sweat under his hairline and down his neck.
He’s beautiful.
When he finally opens his eyes, the blue is dark with arousal, but they’re hooded with sated exhaustion. Then he shifts and crinkles his nose adorably, looking down towards his crotch with a groan of dismay.
“Jesus,” he says, shaking his head as embarrassment creeps over his face, “I actually came in my pants like-”
“Like I told you to,” I head off any self-disparaging commentary. “Because you’re a good boy who follows his Daddy’s instructions. And now,” I grin, “I get to clean you up.”
As if my words alone are easing him towards little space, Kade smiles shyly from beneath lowered lashes. “I’d like that,” he replies, his cheeks still a little pink. Then he sucks on his bottom, kiss-swollen lip and looks down between us again, little lines appearing above the bridge of his nose as he frowns.
“What’s wrong?”
One of his hands reaches between our bodies, cupping my bulge. I gasp. Kade looks back up at me. “You didn’t come.”
“This wasn’t about me,” I try to explain, but he only frowns again.
“We’re equals in this, Daddy. Your pleasureismy pleasure.”
Oh my heart. If he keeps saying stuff like that, I’m going to find myself right back where I was at eighteen: hopelessly in love with him. It’s too soon, things are too fresh and too fragile, but…damned if he’s not just as loveable as he always was. Maybe even more now that I know the attraction goes both ways.
While my brain scrambles over those thoughts, Kade’s hands undo my jeans and slide the zipper down, reaching into my boxer briefs to release my still-hard cock from its cotton confines. The relief I feel is immediate. Then his slender, elegant hand is wrapped around my shaft and I stop thinking altogether.
