Page 65 of Borrowed Pain
In seconds, we were both naked. With Rowan flat on his back, I ran my palms up the ladder of his ribs, feeling him shudder beneath my touch.
I could have rushed, but that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to make the moment last like nothing else in my life ever lasted. This wasn't therapy. This wasn't helping someone heal and then watching them walk away stronger.
This was the opposite. I was pulling him closer, deeper into my orbit, ensuring he didn't leave. For the first time in my adult life,I wasn't trying to fix someone so they could go. I was claiming someone so they'd stay.
I pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses up the center of his chest, then licked the side of his neck. His hands tightened on my hips, while I tongued one of his nipples. Rowan's breath came in sharp gasps.
I pulled away and looked up. His eyes were glassy.
Sliding lower, I licked a stripe down his stomach. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching as I pressed my tongue flat against the faint line of hair running from his belly button to his cock.
I gripped his cock with my hand. He was uncut, and I watched as I rubbed the skin over his head and slowly pulled it back.
When I took him into my mouth and sucked, his hips bucked hard enough that I had to flatten my hand against his hip to stop him from choking me on his dick. I let him slide out of my mouth with a pop. He groaned.
"Fuck," Rowan whispered. "Wait, hold on, do you have—"
"Condoms, lube, everything," I said. "Top drawer. Matthew stocks the guest room like it's a hotel."
His laugh was pure relief. "You're perfect," he said, kissing me again, softer this time.
We tumbled sideways, Rowan rolling on top. He fucked my mouth with his tongue, achingly slow, in and out, before he ever touched my cock.
He paused long enough to reach for the drawer, found the little foil packets and slick blue bottle. After hesitating a moment, he pressed them into my hand.
"You okay?" His voice was hoarse.
I nodded. "Yeah. Are you?"
"I want you inside me." His voice was so soft I barely heard it.
I fumbled the condom packet, hands shaking. Rowan took it from me, tearing the wrapper with his teeth, and rolled it down over my hard cock. That alone nearly drove me to the edge.
While I eased in slowly, every inch pulled a new gasp from his throat. His hands dug into my back, holding me close. For a beat, I froze, overwhelmed by how right it felt, how impossible it seemed that anything this simple could last. Then he whispered, "Keep going," and I did.
We moved together, hips in sync, the bed creaking in protest. My hand drifted to his cock, I jerked him in time with my thrusts, feeling him pulse and twitch.
When the tension built to the point of breaking, Rowan groaned, "I'm so close," and he came over both our stomachs, his whole body spasming around my cock.
The pressure drove me over the edge, blinding and hot. I collapsed against him, forehead to his collarbone, shaking through the aftershocks.
We stayed like that as our breathing returned to normal, bodies cooling in the gentle warmth of the guest room.
"They're probably wondering what we're doing in here," Rowan said eventually.
"They know exactly what we're doing in here." I grinned at his embarrassed groan.
"Now they know we had sex."
I laughed. "They know we disappeared into a bedroom and didn't reemerge. They're not idiots."
Rowan groaned, covering his face with one hand. "Fantastic. The McCabe tribunal has evidence."
"They'll survive." I tugged his hand down and kissed the tips of his fingers. "Besides, Matthew probably just turned up the music in the kitchen."
His cheeks flushed. "Still. Awkward."
"Awkward's better than alone."
