Page 24 of Raise Up, Heart
Cole grabs hold of Damon’s arm and pulls him into an embrace. He expects Damon to resist, but he doesn’t, and the composition books fall to the floor as Cole rolls Damon underneath him, covering him with his body, kissing his neck, his face, the blazing red scar on his chest.
“Shut up,” Cole says, pressing his hardening cock against Damon’s hip bone. “I need you, and nothing changes it. You could be covered in his blood, and all I’d think is that I’mso glad, Damon, so damn glad to see you.”
Damon’s hard, too, and Cole lifts up to push Damon’s sweats down, and then lowers himself so that their cocks rub together with every push and thrust between them. Damon clings to him now really hard, his nails digging into Cole’s back and shoulder, and Cole kisses him, licking at the wound on his lip, sucking his lips, wrapping his arms around him and holding him so tight that he knows that it hurts. But he still can’t get close enough. He wants to get inside Damon, to have Damon inside of him, but he’s too lost in the delicious push and pull of their bodies rubbing together to insist that they do it differently, that they move on to something more advanced than this.
He ruts against Damon, and Damon’s stares up at him with wide, green eyes that are full of want and fear. This isn’t something Cole ever imagined, but he’s honored to be given this part of Damon, this fear and worry amidst the lust, and he whispers, “You can’tmakeme leave you. Nothing can. Never again.”
Damon nods, and Cole clings to now, concentrating on the pain of Damon’s nails on his back, scratching at him with need.
Cole is frantic now, his hips moving fast and hard against Damon’s stomach, his cock sliding next to Damon’s velvet, hard dick. He grabs Damon’s chin, holds his face, and kisses him hard. As he starts to come, he’s overwhelmed with an absolute horror that he’s made a mistake; he’ll wake up this time. He just knows it.
But then gorgeous, jerking pleasure envelopes him, and he’s still here, still here, still here in Damon’s arms.
Damon’s coming beneath him, his face amazingly serious and beautiful as he reaches orgasm. Cole pants and brushes Damon’s hair back, touching its springy softness, and kisses Damon’s nose, his eyebrows, and his mouth.
As the storm of pleasure calms, Cole collapses, his face buried in Damon’s neck. Damon’s grip on him gentles. He trembles under Damon’s soothing hand, rubbing his back tenderly, and he lies on top of him, not wanting to move. Not now. Not ever.
Cole has toread the journals. It’s important to you that he go into this knowing everything. You should have made him read them before you had sex again. Truth be told, you’re greedy, and you don’t know for sure that he’ll want to touch you after he sees the truth of what you’ve done. No matter what he says now.
You’ve wanted him for so long, and you never got to have him before. It’s addictive. You’ve come with him twice in less than three hours, and you don’t think you’re anywhere close to satisfied. You want him again, and thinking about it, you’re getting hard again. His body, the way he tastes, the sounds he makes when he’s moving against you, and his beautiful face when he comes—you want it so much, you feel starved for it even though you just partook.
“Damon,” he breathes against you. “I want you inside me.”
You swallow. You want that, too. You want that a whole hell of a lot. And you want him inside of you. Christ, you want to fuck him blind, and then pull out before you come, sink down on his cock, ride him hard until he unloads in your ass, and then you want to plunge back into him and fill him up with your come. You want that so damn much. All your long-held need and desire for Cole consumes you, and the months of isolation and fear while hiding out drives you onward.
“Damon?” he asks.
You take a shuddery breath and say, “I want that, too. But not now.”
“No,” Cole says. “Don’t make me wait. I learned about waiting. It’s stupid. Don’t, Damon. Please.”
“Shh,” you soothe, rubbing a hand down his back, feeling his tension. “I don’t have condoms.”
“Who cares?” Cole says. “I don’t care.”
“I do,” Damon says. “I don’t know where this body has been. There were times when Alex was out of his head. I don’t know the details of what he did during those times. And—I can’t risk you.”
Cole makes a sound like he’s been kicked, and you clutch him tight against you, kissing his shoulders, his throat, and the dimple in his chin, loving the scrape of his stubble on your lips.
“You need to read the journals,” you go on. “You have the right to know what you’re dealing with.”
“I’m dealing with you,” Cole whispers.
“Yeah,” you agree. “And you should know what that is.”
“It won’t change anything.”
“Then reading them won’t be a problem,” you say. You push at Cole’s heaviness, rolling him off, and twisting out from under him. It feels wrong. There’s nothing you’d like more than to stay there beneath Cole forever, or at least until you get hungry again, but you’re trying to do the right thing.
Cole’s flushed up his chest and his cheeks, and his hair is everywhere. There’s drying come smeared on both of your stomachs. You crawl out of the bed, saying, “Stay here. I’ll get something to clean up.”
“Hurry,” Cole says, and you know it’s not because he’s so eager to wipe the evidence of your sex off of his skin but because he doesn’t like it when you leave his sight. You can see how nervous he is that this will somehow turn out not to be real.
You wet a washcloth in the small bathroom sink. The cabin isn’t luxurious, and you have no idea how Alex even knew of its existence, but it has served you well the last few months. It’s small, but not too small, and set far off the road. There isn’t much as far as heating goes. You had to pick up some space heaters from the Goodwill in North Maryville, but it’s on well-water and a septic system that seems in good working order from what you can tell. Alex certainly knew what he was doing when he came here.
You splash some water on your stomach and cock, trying to get the come off. You jerk at the chill and swallow back a yelp. It’s not as warm as you’d like, but the hot water tank usually takes a few hours to replenish itself after a shower, and you and Cole took your time in there together. You’d been tempted to suck him off, but you’d settled for washing his hair and letting him touch you all over.
“Damon?” Cole calls, and he sounds a little worried. That feeling inside of you, the one that used to be so strong that you couldn’t stand it, so strong that you fought tooth and nail and emerged with bloody claws, even if you have no memory of the process—that feeling rises up again, and you have to go to him, to soothe that pain in him.
