Page 25 of The Redemption of Alex Cade
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” I said softly.
Kit exhaled a shaky laugh. “Not a chance.”
His trust settled deep in my bones, and I pressed one last kiss to his hip before inching lower.
I continued my descent, lips tracing the subtle ridges of Kit’s lower abdomen. Breathing in deep, his scent saturated my senses as the faint aroma of his body wash mixed with the musk of his sweat. The intimacy of the moment was a tangible thing, the crackle of electricity in the air, unlike any encounter I’d had before. With Kit, I wanted to take my time, to explore every inch of him, to make him feel seen, desired, wanted.
My hands, usually confident, trembled as I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his underwear. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, as I began to ease the fabric down, over the hard bulge of his arousal. My breath caught, and I knew with every part of me that I wouldnever, ever, forget this moment, a first in so many indefinable ways.
He shivered as his skin goosebumped. His pulse quickened beneath my lips as I kissed the inside of his thigh. I took my time, extending and stretching out the moment, losing myself in the taste of him, the scent of his skin, the way his body responded to mine, as I moved closer to where he wanted me most.
Kit gasped, his nails scratching over my scalp as I pressed my face into the heat of his groin and breathed in long and deep, filling my lungs with him. I pulled back, catching my breath as I gazed down at his cock, flushed and engorged, precum glistening on the swollen head.
“You’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful,” I murmured, as I traced the tip of my tongue from the base to the tip, where I lapped at the salty, bitter wetness. I placed a small, soft kiss on the tip, before I took him into my mouth.
Above me, Kit released a low, guttural sound that went straight to my balls. I could feel the oncoming rush of my own release, and I fumbled for the zip on my jeans, plunging my hand in and pressing on the base of my dick to stem the rising tide. Unlike all the times that had gone before, none of this was about me, about what I wanted. Regaining the control I’d almost lost, I slowed my pace, my senses hyper aware as I felt the heat and weight of him, the pulse of his blood beneath the surface, the tension in his body as I explored every inch of him.
I found a rhythm, my lips and tongue working in tandem, my hands gripping his hips to hold him steady. He thrust upwards, matching my rhythm, his moans and gasps growing louder. As the tension built in him, I pulled back slightly, prolonging the moment, teasing him with light flicks of my tongue, making him wait, making him want.
I glanced up and his eyes met mine, and the raw need in them sent a surge of heat through me. Increasing the pressure, the pace, I took him deeper until the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. My jaw strained, and my neck ached. But I wanted more, wanted to give him more. The rhythm of his breathing changed, became more ragged, his moans more desperate, matching the plea in his eyes. I kept my gaze locked on his, wanting to see him unravel, wanting to watch him come undone.
Reaching his climax, his body shuddered beneath my touch and he cried out. Salty and bitter, pulse after pulse, he filled my mouth. I swallowed him down, gripping his hips hard, bruising him, as he rode out the waves of his release. I stayed with him, my hands slackening, my mouth softening, my tongue slowing.
As he came down from the high, I pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his stomach, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath, tasting the salt of his sweat, the sweetness of his skin. I could smell the scent of us, combined and uniquely ours, my own release sticky and smeared against my jeans. I didn’t care, because nothing that had happened between us was about me.
Somehow, we found the energy to stagger off to bed, stripping away what was left of our clothes before climbing under the covers. Kit snuggled up to me, and instantly fell asleep, leaving me to stare up at the moonlight painted ceiling. Sleep evaded me as I lay on my back, one arm thrown across the cool expanse of the sheet, the other resting against the curve of Kit’s bare shoulder. The silence was broken only by the faint hum of the city beyond the windows, and Kit’s soft, even breathing.
Kit shifted, resting his head on my chest, his hair slightly damp. I thought he was still asleep, yet when I looked downhis eyes were wide open and gazing at me with something that looked like happiness. My heart jolted. Happy. It wasn’t a word I’d ever had much use for. His fingers began to trace idle patterns over my stomach, featherlight and almost absentminded. The touch was gentle, calm and unhurried, at odds with the tangled, racing mess inside my head.
This wasn’t what I did. Sex had always been simple, nothing more than a fuck. Physical. A release. As soon as it was done and over with I was turning away, the man already forgotten. No lingering afterwards, no quiet moments like this, no warmth that spread deeper than skin. But with Kit, everything felt different.
Everything.
I followed the movement of his hand over my stomach, the gentle glide of his fingers faintly ticklish. I liked it, the connection, just as I liked the way his body seemed to fit so naturally alongside mine. I looked away, afraid he’d see in my face the ache that tugged deep in my chest.
“You’re quiet,” Kit murmured, his voice low and sleepy.
“So are you.”
“Not at my most coherent at the moment if I’m honest. My brain’s feeling like it’s taken a bit of a pounding. Amongst other parts of my body.”
I laughed as I turned back to him. “Yet you can still use words like coherent?”
“I’m an educated boy, but I reckon I’ve used up my store of grown up words.” His fingers, still meandering, came to a stop. “You okay?”
Kit tilted his head, studying me, scrutinising, taking all of me in, looking for signs that, maybe, I wasn’t.
It was such a simple question, but it caught me off guard. I nodded, my throat tightening slightly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Kit didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, heshifted closer, his head settling more firmly against my chest. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
The warmth of his skin was soothing, and I found myself running my fingers up and along the ridges of his shoulder blades, tracing the shape of him.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” I said.
Kit sighed. “Just thinking. About everything. About this. And…” I heard his hesitation.
“Kelvin.” It wasn’t a question, and his body tensed against mine.
