Page 9 of The Men of Summer
My skin is set ablaze at what his command entails. Still, I arch my brow, frowning. Surely, I must have misunderstood. In our eight-year relationship, we’ve never discussed switching; Zayn is a strict top, which is fine by me. And yet, he pants with hungry darkening eyes.
“Have me.”
CHAPTER 7
LES VOYAGES IMMOBILES
Zayn
“You sure about this?” His quizzical eyes widen. Based on his dilated pupils, he’s 100% on board with my suggestion. I appreciate his concern. “Didn’t you once say you’d never?—”
We’re almost touching, but not quite, until I roll to my side. I thread my fingers through his dark silky hair. Then, my sinful mouth crashes against his for a searing kiss. He opens for me. Our tongues reconnect yet again. Tasting myself on him is such an aphrodisiac. My dick awakens as I lean closer and caress the head of his massive boner.
His guitar-calloused fingers leisurely wander over my sensitive body. A moan escapes; I can’t tell whether it’s mine or his. His greedy tongue makes love to mine, sending a shiver across my heated skin, and his goatee tickles my face. My hand tightens its grip on his hair. We can’t lose ourselves in this just yet. Otherwise, he’ll blow his load in record time, and I’ll follow suit.
I regretfully wrench my insatiable mouth from his. “I’ve never—” I trail off, releasing my hold on his hair “—never beenmore certain of anything.” The back of my fingers skim his cheek.
I can’t be sure if this is a one-time offer. Only my love for him could spark such a ludicrous idea. Sure, we discussed switching a few times, and my lover voiced his curiosity. We left it at that. For all I know, I might hate it. What triggered my change of mind? I couldn’t say… I’ve always known I was gay. I’ve always known I'd top. I’ve always hoped to get a second chance at love with Dante. All of this turned out to be true. I demand the full experience. All-consuming. Earth-shattering. Toe-curling. And I trust him to deliver it. And just like that, my body hums with need.
My calves cage his. “I crave this connection, Dante, more than my next breath.” To avoid waking up our son, we keep the volume of our voices to a minimum, which lends a surreal vibe to the situation.
My statement is met with a nod, although hurt is written all over Dante’s gorgeous face. We both know that our connection has been lost in translation for a while. Traveling. Adulting. Parenting…
I guess lacking a support system—family, friends, you name it—on both sides magnified our unease. I mostly keep to myself while he’s away, but I’m not sure how much he confides in Melissa.
We both know I stopped trying to initiate things after he shot down several attempts at intimacy. His guilt won’t change anything. It is what it is. Surprisingly enough, Sully’s party was oddly cathartic. Having a local friend that I can trust boosts my confidence.
“Okay, then… Thanks for allowing me to… do this.” I notice goosebumps on his biceps. “I don’t deserve it… I?—”
“Shhh… Don’t! You are everything to me, Dante. Focus on the present.” My fingertips trace his scruffy jawline in a feebleattempt to reassure him. “Look, I want you. I want this. I wantus…” His craving matches mine, almost word for word, then he sucks in a breath and adds, “The new us. An us that says we are a family, but that’s not all that defines us. We’re so much more than that, my love.”
“I know… I just feel so fucking bad… for being away from you two… on tours, at the studio, or promoting my music. I should have been there for you, mentally and physically. More, so much more…”
“You’re here now; that’s all that matters… You own me, and I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” My voice is strangled with need. Need that I suppressed to give my boyfriend space to blossom as an artist. Need that I put on the back burner to fully embrace my parent role. Need that I denied to put the other two men in my life first. I regret nothing, despite my occasional inner bitching…
Dante and Jeremy deserve the best. But tonight, Dante’s surprising initiative triggered my irrepressible yearning for the man I love. I want to be selfish for once, or ratherneedto be, and have him as I see fit. My breathing turns ragged in anticipation of what’s to come, pun intended.
The growl that escapes his parted lips speaks right to my arousal.
Damn, I’m never going to last with him inside me.
Eager for more, I run the tip of my tongue across my upper lip. My desire for Dante is strong, but I should pace myself; his own willpower is impressive. “But first, you’re gonna have to loosen me up.” I swallow the lump in my throat.
Am I nervous?
His smile is part bold, part anxious. Ohhh, yes, he’s as ready as I am. I press my lips to his for a quick kiss to acknowledge his desire. “I love you. I love your dick. And I’m pretty sure I’ll love it even more when I watch it slide inside me and slam against my prostate until I see stars. You keep telling me that nothingelse compares. It’s about time I experienced it. I burn so hot for you, baby… Understand it. Feel it. Own it…” Our mouths collide with renewed purpose until we’re out of breath, our hearts hammering loudly. “Now, take me apart,amour, and build me back up.” My plea finally jumpstarts his actions.
“You got it…” His suddenly assertive tone fuels my desire. Then, he clarifies in a subdued voice, “I’m going to stretch you so good, you’re gonna beg.” I delight in witnessing the confidence he has on stage translate to the bedroom. Why hasn’t he allowed himself to express it before? Have I stopped him because I run the show behind closed doors? Who cares? Again, there’s no time to dwell on it. I ought to listen to my own advice and savor the moment.
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, my man hurriedly scoots towards the end table next to the couch where he left his wallet. His tall frame contorts to grab it, and my gaze zooms in on his delectable ass. Heat flares. To my utmost joy, his smile turns wicked when he retrieves a hidden packet of lube. Perfect!
Why have we waited for so long? We should look for a two-bedroom house ASAP. His ass, Zayn! Focus. Dante’s ass matters more than a home you don’t have.
Hence, I wet my lips and follow his every move as he squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers.
“Now turn around and let me pay my respects to your geeky tats...”
I chuckle at the word geeky. He’s obsessed with the three symbols that adorn my shoulder blades. In between two video game references—the Triforce fromZeldaand the insignia fromAssassin’s Creed—lies the large gothic L fromDeath Note, an anime we watched together during his first visit to Seaside. When we rekindled six years later, he used to lick them and cum all over them. That is, before life caught up with us.
