Page 47 of Roleplay at Randy's
“I can’t take it anymore, Matty.” I frame his neck and face with my hands. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”
His fingers tighten on my sides, and when I touch his forehead with mine, his entire body trembles.
“I think I have some idea,” he chuckles softly, voice wobbling. “Lee … please …”
Please.
Please.
I pitch forward, but our mouths don’t quite connect. He’s right there. Holding his breath. Waiting for me to tell him this is okay.
“I don’t want you to get over it.” There’s the barest touch of our lips as I speak, and it makes his eyes flutter—I feel them threaten to close. “Don’t get over me.”
Neither of us can hold back anymore. I pull him forward just as he yanks on my hips, and this is a moment that will be seared in my soul for the whole of eternity.
Our lips crash together, and it’s like two universes becoming one.
I’ve kissed my fair share of girls—have slept with any number of them. It always felt good, like something I want to do again and again. Kissing is one of my favorite parts of being with someone.
Kissing Matty goes beyond anything I’ve ever felt. My chest burns from lack of oxygen, because one sweep of my tongue in his mouth isn’t enough. He tilts his head, gives me more room to work his mouth into a frenzy.
His tongue tangles with mine, a moan vibrating where our lips touch, and I give in to the urge to press my body against his, to get as impossibly close as I can.
Matty whimpers, a desperate sound that only intensifies when my now full blown erection makes contact with his stomach.
He doesn't stumble back or pull away; he pushes in closer. His arms slide around my back, fingers finding perch on my shoulders.
Matty might be lean and on the shorter side, but I don’t know that I’d call him small. Against me, he feels every bit the powerful dancer I know he is.
I glide a finger down his spine, intoxicated by the way he shivers from the touch and arches closer to me. We're skin to skin, his warm and soft from the shower, mine chilled with little raised bumps.
He breaks away to catch his breath in the crook of my neck, his hips rocking as I rub along his waist.
“I've lost my mind,” he mumbles, and I'm not sure I was supposed to hear it. “The steam and horniness got to me, and now I'm having a sexy fever dream.”
I snort out a laugh against the top of his head, squeezing him to me until he makes a tiny gasp.
“What would we do next in this fever dream of yours?”
He moans into my skin, nails digging crescents into my shoulder blades.
“Don't tease me, Elias.”
I thread my fingers into his hair and tug on it lightly until he looks up, just barely pulling back so I can see his damp eyes.
“Hey now.” I let his hair sift through my fingers. “I know you feel how excited you make me.”
The ever present blush on his cheeks intensifies, and then he's hiding in my neck again.
“I wish you could feel me,” he says in a rush, followed byan almost pained whine. “How hot and hard and wet I am just?—”
He jolts away, panting so hard his entire frame rattles with it. “We should stop. Before we cross a line we can't uncross.”
I want to reach for him, to reassure him that there isn't a line imaginable I’d regret crossing with him, but I know at least part of that is my libido talking.
“Pick the line,” I find myself saying. “Tell me where you want this to end, and that's as far as I'll let us go.”
He shakes his head, but he has to grab onto the counter behind him to hold himself up.
