Page 100 of Enemies with an Earl
“Sam?” Felix whispered, and Sam’s attention snapped back to those burnt-honey eyes. “When I’m with you… I feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m not broken any longer.” A shaky exhale escaped him, and he leaned forward until only a breath separated them.
Sam’s fingertips dug into Felix’s back, and Felix’s hands slid up behind Sam’s neck, tangling lightly with the ends of the hair at his nape.
“Sam…” Felix said hoarsely. “I think you’ve put me back together.”
48
Felix
“Iloveyou,”Felixwhispered, heart thrumming in his throat.
Holy fucking shite. He’d said it. He’d actually said those terrifying three words. Three small words. Eight letters. And they had the ability to end him.
It would be fine. Sam didn’t need to say them back. It would be completely fine if he didn’t say them back. Completely, totally, utterly, inconceivably fine. As long as Sam didn’t do something like laugh in Felix’s face or throw Felix off his lap, then it would all be fine.
He paused, the silence registering. Shite. Was silence worse than laughter? It felt worse.
“Stop spiraling.”
The breath Felix was holding burst out of him with awhoosh. Sam’s hand came up to cradle his face, fingers biting into his skin.
“Now. Say it again,” he commanded.
Felix’s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed roughly. “I love you.”
“Fuck.” Sam’s mouth collided with his.
Sam’s hands slid to Felix’s nape, holding him tight, secure, like he never planned on letting go. Felix hoped he never would. He pressed into Sam, trading frantic passes, too rushed to sink into anything deep. Tongues brushed, coasted between each kiss, but that was as much as the frenzied collision of mouths would allow.
Felix’s hands were everywhere, needed to be everywhere, touch all of Sam. His fingertips shook as they traced that sharp jawline, his chest hummed with warmth as they slid down Sam’s neck, the man’s pulse beating just as forcefully as Felix’s own.
Hands drifted down Felix’s chest, over his sides, tensing, like Sam’s fingers couldn’t help but dig into Felix. Like the want, the need, the feeling was too much.
“I don’t have enough hands,” Sam growled out between kisses. “Bloody hell, I wish I was an octopus so I could have eight hands to touch you with.”
Felix pulled back and blinked down at the flushed, rugged man beneath him. “That’s an extremely disturbing image.”
Sam’s signature grin flashed at him. “Don’t ruin my fantasy.” But then his features turned solemn, his dark gaze piercing. “Say it once more,” he whispered.
“I love you,” Felix rasped.
They crashed back together, lips pressing over lips, teeth desperately sinking into flesh, like each of them were determined to latch on and pull the other back. Felix pressed even tighter to the man surrounding him, his body, his heart, everything swirling inside him needing to be as close as possible. Closer.
His chest was burning from the inside out. With every slow glide of Sam’s tongue against his, his pulse stuttered. The grip of Sam’s hands in his hair. They weren’t controlling, they weren’t demanding. They were desperate, fearful, like Sam needed to hold on to Fee to ground himself.
“I.” They traded another frantic kiss. “Love.” Tongues tangled in a torrent of emotion. “You.” Now that he’d let the words free, he couldn’t hold them back. Needed to keep saying it, needed it to sink into Sam until he felt it, too. The way his heart beat it like a benediction.
Felix went to fall into another collision of lips, but Sam’s hands shot up to cup Felix’s jaw, arms rigid, stilling Felix a breath away. His chest surged as he stared into those fathomless grey eyes, dark, swallowed by the storm. Sam loosened his hold, fingers shaking against Felix’s skin. They traced lightly over his cheekbones. A thumb pulled on his bottom lip. Sam’s gaze followed, touching each spot in time with his fingertips.
Sam’s throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and met Felix’s stare again. He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe, couldn’t possibly comprehend that this was really happening. “I love you, too,” he said, his voice unraveling at the edges like Felix was in danger of right now. Because hearing those words back from Sam? There was too much feeling battling inside of him. Felix was cracking at the seams, emotion breaking free.
They fell back together, this time delving deep, a battle of who could thrust faster, press tighter, love harder. And even with no space between them, there was too much distance. Sam must have felt it, too. The desperation. The need to provide the uncontrollable passion thundering within an outlet. Because hands started ripping at clothing, pulling at knots, tearing at buttons.
“I want you to fuck me,” Felix panted after another scorching kiss.
Sam’s chest lifted into Felix’s with every labored breath, an onyx storm staring back at him. He shook his head lightly, his mess of hair, damp and disheveled from the downpour, tumbling over his brow. “No, Fee. Not here. Not like this.”
“Yes, like this.” Felix didn’t even care about the whine in his voice. This was the perfect time. The amount he was feeling. Hell, now was the time.
