Page 10 of Patchwork
A horny sound rumbles in his throat, and he flicks my lip ring with his tongue.
“In that case, maybe we should get out of these wet clothes.”
Chapter 5
PRESENT
HERO
It’sfuckingsurrealhavingOnyx standing in my living room, touching my stuff, looking at my books. He’s always been so separate from my real life, and that made sense to me. It made it easier to remember that none of this is real, no matter how confusing his enthusiasm and sweetness can make things sometimes. I can’t even wrap my head around the idea that he’s going to behere, in my house, playing with my cat for the next few months.
But I don’t really give a shit about the weirdness or how I’m going to keep my head on straight. Not right now, not with that teasing smile dancing on his lips and my hands aching to touch him.
I fist a handful of his damp shirt and yank it up over his head. Before I can even toss it aside, he’s doing the same to mine, tugging it up and pressing a searing hot, wet kiss against the middle of my chest. His tongue teases my overheated skin as he traces the lines of my tattoos.
“God, I fucking missed you,” he groans, dropping my shirt at our feet and wrapping his arms around me. He slides his hands up my spine to my shoulders, still nuzzling and licking my chest.
The part of my brain desperate to overthink and ruin things wants to pick that statement apart. He said something similar earlier, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. That’s how I’ve kept my sanity and my heart intact over the last four years, by taking anything he says as nothing more than flirtation or hyperbole. Onyx doesn’t agonize over the words that come out of his mouth, he just says whatever pops into his head.
I drag my fingers through his tangled hair, tugging his mouth away from my pecs so I can get my lips on his. I spend a lot of fucking time fantasizing about this man. Filthy fantasies, silly, romantic fantasies, and fantasies about what I want to ink on him next. But daydreams about the heat of his mouth on mine, our tongues teasing and stroking each other, muffled groans stifled between us are my favorite. They never hold a candle to the real thing though.
He sighs against my lips and digs his fingers harder into my shoulders, returning my kiss with the same hunger and desperation that’s coursing through me and making me feral. His skin is sticky and damp as our bare chests bump. The metal of his nipple piercings drags against me, sending little jolts of electricity through me.
I think of the songs he’s played for me over the years, the fast-paced, hypnotic beats that somehow capture the frantic, frenzied feeling I have every time I put my hands on him, every time our tongues tangle. I can hear them in the twitch of his fingers and the soft, melodic hum that vibrates in his throat between impatient moans.
I tug the button on his jeans loose and slip my hand underneath his clothes to grab two handfuls of his ass cheeks. Onyx groans and cants his hips, dragging his cock against minethrough our clothes. I catch his lip ring between my teeth and tug it gently, walking him back a couple of steps until we tumble onto the couch together in a heap.
He laughs against my lips, and our kiss deepens. The couch really isn’t big enough for this, but it doesn’t matter. As long as I have Onyx pinned beneath me while we grapple with each other’s clothes, nothing else really matters. His breath flutters over my lips every time we break the kiss to drag in heavy gulps of air before crashing right back together. I tug his pants down and his cock springs free, slapping against his belly.
“Hero,” he whines my name like a plea. At least a dozen times, I’ve thought about what it would feel like to hear my real name on his lips instead of my nickname. I’ve never told him though. I’m afraid that if I do hear him call me Kaiden while he’s naked and breathless underneath me, I really will fall in love with him.
“I know what you want, baby,” I purr, sucking a bruise into the crook of his neck and imagining a tattoo of my lips right there, claiming him so that anyone else who touches him knows they might get one night in his bed, butI’mthe one he keeps coming back to.
I kiss my way down a well-memorized path that has gone from pale, unmarked skin to a beautiful patchwork of art in the time I’ve known him. I trace my tongue over the stitched together heart inked onto his left pec and across the music notes that dip down the middle of his chest, stopping to flick his nipple piercing along the way. He gasps and arches against my mouth.
“It’s been too damn long. I’m so fucking horny for you,” Onyx whimpers, jerking his hips to grind his bare cock against mine, the heat of his shaft and the teasing tug of his Jacob’s ladder sending a needy shiver through me.
I lap at his nipple, laving it with my tongue while I roll the other gently between my thumb and forefinger. Does he meantoo long since he’s hadmyhands on him, or too long since anyone has touched him? Another thing I’ve been dying to come right out and ask him but can’t. I’m not going to be the dumbass who lost a rockstar because I got too clingy and hopelessly monogamous. Just because I haven’t so much as looked at anyone else in four years doesn’t mean Onyx hasn’t.
But maybe in the heat of the moment I’m allowed the tiniest bit of reassurance? If he can say things without any deeper meaning, I can too, can’t I?
“Tell me no one else makes you feel the way I do,” I growl, nipping at the tender blank skin at the base of his rib cage, running my hands over his flat belly. He quivers and sucks in his abs, his cock twitching eagerly at the tease of my fingers drawing closer.
“No one,” he says without hesitation. “No one hasevermade me feel as seen and sexy and fuckingwantedas you do.”
A prideful, possessive feeling swells in my chest and I grin against his skin.
“That’s right. No one,” I murmur, kissing down, down, down.
“Hero,” he gasps again, jerking his hips, his cock dragging between my pecs now, leaving a sticky trail of precum in my chest hair. I nuzzle my face against his skin and slide my hands under his ass to coax him to thrust again.
I want to be covered in his cum. I want finger shaped bruises down my back and hickies all over my neck. I want Onyx’s claim etched onto my skin the same way my ink is on his. But I’mdefinitelynot stupid enough to say any of that. Even the heat of the moment wouldn’t be enough of an excuse to recover from that level of neediness and desperation.
I wrap my hand around the base of his thick cock and sit back on my heels to admire him for just a minute. His hair is messy, his lips are swollen, and there’s a dazed, horny look clouding his eyes. He’s splayed out on my couch, the dim table lamp castingshadows over his skin, his thighs wrapped around me, and his cock throbbing eagerly in my grasp. I wish I could take a picture to keep me company once he’s gone again. I’ll have to settle for committing the view to memory instead.
He quivers and makes a little mewling sound as I lean in slowly, bringing my tongue to the base of his cock just above my fingers, and lick a leisurely path up his length. I reach the first barbell on his ladder and place an open-mouthed kiss over the hot metal, snaking my tongue in a figure eight around it. Onyx whines and bucks his hips. I let that barbell go and move up an inch to the next one, giving it the same treatment. He tangles his fingers in my hair, his thighs tensing and quaking around me, impatient sounds falling from his lips as I take my time with each barbell on my way up his length.
A bead of precum rolls down to meet my lips when I’m on the second to last barbell. I snake my tongue out to lap it up and my cock gives a heavy throb. I want to spend all night giving him a torturously slow blowjob. I want to eat him out and finger him until he begs me to fuck him. I want to grind together, sweaty and desperate, until we come all over each other’s cocks. There’s never enough time for all the things I want to do to Onyx. Except… this time, I guess there is. This time I won’t have to choose whether I want his cum on my tongue or all over my skin before waking up in a hotel room all alone with a note on his pillow that says he can’t wait to see me again.
