Page 24 of Under The Twilight Rainfall
Not yet. Just a little longer.
“I’m here,” he mouths, and I only know because my eyes are trained on him, waiting to see what he might do.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to join me, to crawl up the bed and put his hands all over me. Right now, I want it more than anything.
But there’s a little sense left in my brain. Not a lot, but some.
I shift my hips, pull one of my legs up and hold it as open as I can, showing Valen—and the camera—just how well my hole takes my fingers. How well it’d take something else, something bigger.
Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come. Valen grips his own cock like he’s holding himself back, and I don’t think I can hold off anymore.
I drop my leg and grip my cock, beating furiously in time with the thrust of my fingers, and I make sure I have Valen’s undivided attention when I feel the peak.
It’s a full body orgasm with my head thrown back, my legs twitching and hole spasming around my fingers. Cum covers my abdomen, and I swear to god I shout Valen’s name, but I’ll have to watch the video back later to find out.
Because I am sore, spent, and satisfied as the high fades and leaves me boneless on the bed. I don’t even bother to open my eyes until I hear another ‘click’ and look to see Valen cutting off my recording.
His smile is sweet, but I can still see the erection straining his shorts. I could take care of it for him, but that isn’t what we’re here for. That isn’t who we are. And I get the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t let me anyway. Just like he held me off last night.
“How about I ask for some new sheets?” he asks, walking over and dragging his hand through my sweaty hair.
Shouldn’t it be weird that I’m lying here naked, covered in my own spunk, and Valen is casually touching me and speaking as if I didn’t just call his name while chasing an orgasm?
It isn’t and that freaks me out.
“I’ll get cleaned up.” And then I’m back behind the bathroom door, listening to Valen move around the other room as I scrub away at the cum and sweat that serves as evidence to my lack of self-control.
What the hell am I doing? Cuddling him? Humping him? Getting off to the way he looks at me?
I’m just horny as hell, and Valen is safe. That’s all it is.
I won’t let it be anything more.
I’mnotreadyforthis to be over. For Dex to crawl back inside himself and try to get away from me every opportunity he has. The moment we walk through the door at the house, I know that’s exactly what I’ll get.
So, maybe I come up with more excuses to keep us out longer. Maybe I drag him onto the beach in the middle of the night when neither of us can sleep and we water wrestle until we’re both spent but exhilarated by the late night dip.
I convince him to stand with me in the shower to conserve water, and we avoid touching each other, but we also both climb into bed nearly naked save for our underwear—citing the muggy air as the culprit.
Dex lays his head on my arm and lets me drape the other over his waist. He throws his leg back to tangle with mine when he’s on the verge of sleep. I breathe in the scent of his travel coconut shampoo—that I swear he’s used since he was sixteen—while I can, because I know in the morning it will be like none of this ever happened.
Which is why as soon as our long ass trip leads us back to Cebu City, I immediately shove him onto a Jeepney and incur his wrath. Which is fine because it means his attention is on me and I’ve got him for a little while longer.
His confusion is adorable when we get tickets to a ferry, and all of his frustration melts away as he watches the water glisten and sway around us. Dex has always loved motion, as if being stagnant for too long will force him to crawl out of his skin.
Even though the ferry is moving, Dex is too. Whether it’s his head watching the clouds or his fingers drumming on his thighs or even the flex of his toes in his sandals, some part of Dex is constantly in motion.
I don’t mind, though. It’s one of those things that’s innately Dex, and I love him for it.
In all honesty, I have no destination in mind; I just want a moment to bottle up the energy between us—this truce of sorts—before I have to leave it behind. It’s in the way Dex wraps his hand around mine on the railing, acting as if he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it. It’s the pink in his cheeks and the way I feel his stare behind the dark shades he wears.
His hair is pulled up into a bun, with only a few strands whipping around his face in the breeze, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to reach out and pluck it down just so I can tug him close and steal that little spark of electricity between us that I haven’t been able to shake since last night.
Since Dex moaned my name so loud I almost came in my pants.
I try not to think about it, wanting to focus on moments like this, where we can exist together, accepting each other as we are right now.
“Admit it. You’re having fun,” I say, just to watch the little half scowl on his face that hides his smile.
