Page 14 of Kept
Eli inhaled sharply, chest tightening, eyes flicking up to Kade. His cock throbbed, straining hard against the denim, reacting before he even had time to think. Seeing himself stripped, piece by piece, for Kade’s eyes alone made him dizzy—the lines of his body, pale skin flushed by heat, chest rising and falling, the taut, rigid length of him pressing insistently through fabric.
Exposure made him ache. Need and shame twisted together, and he couldn’t hide either.
The button came free with a soft pop. The zipper slid down slowly, like a silent whisper. Kade didn’t rush. He just watched, eyes locked on him, letting Eli feel every inch of anticipation.
His hips lifted without thought, a wordlesstake it, take itin the tilt of his pelvis. Kade’s mouth curved—almost a smile, sharper, predatory. He peeled the denim down Eli’s thighs inch by inch, unwrapping him with deliberate, precise hands.
Every new line of skin felt loud, alive, electric under Kade’s gaze.
Jeans hit the floor. Then his briefs, sliding down with a soft snag at his calf, leaving nothing between him and the air but Kade’s attention and weight pressing over him. Eli’s cock throbbed painfully, fully exposed, sensitive to the cold brush of air and the heat radiating from Kade’s hardness pressing into his hip.
His heartbeat hammered against bone. His breath went shallow. No one had ever seen him like this—not really. Not without barriers, not without defenses.
Kade’s eyes roamed him, focused, deliberate, hands moving over him as he looked. Palms and knuckles pressed and dragged, learning the places where soft met hard, where tension coiled beneath skin. Every pass made Eli shiver, squirm, helpless, needing more.
Heat climbed Eli’s chest. He swallowed.
He should have been embarrassed. He should have been afraid.
But the way Kade moved—quiet, absolute, controlled—the way he handled Eli like something already claimed, made every nerve hum.
A thin, needy sound slipped from him when Kade’s palm ghosted over his stomach. He arched, helpless, caught betweencurling away from the intensity and baring himself more. Every fiber of him responded, desperate, exposed.
He trembled. He couldn’t hide. Every careful touch unspooled him. It was out of his hands.
He loved it.
Kade’s fingertips ghosted over Eli’s cock, a whisper-light pass that made every nerve spark and hum. Eli jolted, hips lifting instinctively, trying to follow the phantom touch. Heat flared low, hot and fast, and his breath caught somewhere between panic and need.
The second stroke came slow, deliberate, certain—a careful drag along every sensitive curve, as if Kade were reading Eli’s body like braille. The fire it sparked burned through him, and a sound slipped free before he even recognized it as his own.
Kade’s hand closed around him fully, perfectly—not loose, not tight, just impossibly right. The first long pull drove his head into the mattress, his mouth falling open for a breath that was never enough.
“No one’s done this for you, have they,” Kade murmured. Not a question. Satisfaction, raw and low, threaded the words.
Eli shook his head. Speech was a high shelf he couldn’t reach. He had no words for this. No words for the heat pressing in, the thrum of Kade’s hand, the way he was utterly seen, stripped bare and exposed.
Kade set a rhythm that felt like the solution to a problem Eli didn’t even know existed. Long, controlled strokes, each one sending heat climbing from the root of him, curling into hischest, setting fire behind his ribs. Too slow to bear, too precise to ignore.
Then the grip tightened.
Shock slammed through him, forcing a raw, animal noise from his throat. His hips kicked up, unthinking, instinctive, desperate. Kade let him. Matched him. Met each needy thrust with steady, measured resistance, something clean and deliberate that made Eli feel completely owned.
Kade pressed his other hand flat to Eli’s belly, holding him in place. Not hard, not rough, but absolute. The weight was undeniable, and Eli shivered, body tightening, surrendering to the force of it.
Time thinned. Each stroke built, white-hot and jagged, Eli’s body responding before thought could intervene. He squirmed and gasped as Kade pumped him, hips rising, skin taut, pressure climbing brighter, more relentless.
Then Kade stopped.
The sound that tore from Eli was new—raw, guttural, human, made entirely of need. His hips jerked, chasing nothing, air, release. Kade’s breath brushed against his ear as he laughed, low and pleased.
“Still,” Kade said.
Eli went still, the effort sharp across his spine and bones. Every muscle hummed with tension, coiled and waiting.
Kade lifted his hand from Eli’s stomach, bringing those same fingers to his mouth. “Open.”
Eli blinked, dazed by the sudden loss, the ache that spread through him. Kade didn’t pause for words. Two fingers pressed to his lower lip, testing, prodding, something deeper than obedience.
