Page 31 of Gift of You
“I do like it. I fucking love it, in fact. And maybe sometime I can show you what it feels like if you want to try it. But again, if you’re not comfortable, it’s totally fine. You can go back to playing with my balls.” He gave me what I was sure was meant to be a reassuring smile. “I like that too. I like all of it.”
Determined to get over myself and make him feel good, I slid my hand back, stretching my finger out until I got to the cleftof his ass. Extending just a little further, I found his pucker and pressed. He gave a full-bodied shudder and emitted a noise that was a cross between a sigh and a whine. Encouraged, I pressed a little harder, and watched in fascination as a bead of precum formed at his tip, then fell, landing on my stomach.
He began stroking again, only this time his strokes were dirty and rough, like a man desperate for release, which I supposed he was. I pressed and released my finger, pressed and released, over and over again, as he stroked faster and faster.
Hot liquid landed on my abdomen a split second before he let out a guttural groan. My eyes shifted from his face to his dick, wanting to see him erupt all over me.
Another spurt followed the first one, and then another, as he continued to jerk himself through it, his knees nearly buckling in the process. When it seemed like his legs might give out, he turned and collapsed onto the couch next to me, landing in much the same position I was in. Louis rolled his head toward me, catching my eye and offering a blissed-out smile. “How do you feel?”
“You sucked me off so hard, I’m pretty sure I saw stars.”
He chuckled, still trying to catch his breath, then his expression turned more serious. “I was referring to the rest of it. Me coming on you. Playing with my asshole. How do you feel about that?”
Unease slithered into my body, unwelcome, but there nonetheless. I wasn’t particularly proud of the way I’d balked at playing with his hole. Was it a sign of some internalized homophobia? Was I an asshole? “Coming on me was hot as fuck.” I looked down at the mess he’d made, his cum glistening where it had pooled on my chest and belly. I’d liked that more than I’d expected to. “As for the rest... I think I’m still getting used to all the ways sex is different with a man. Does that make me a dick?”
“Not necessarily. I think it’s normal to be hesitant about something you’ve never experienced. If you’d judged me for it, then yeah, I think that would make you a dick.” His smile was warm and reassuring. It helped me relax.
“But you like that? A finger in your hole? Like, at the same time as the other stuff?”
“I like lots of things in my hole. Fingers, tongues, toys...” He waggled his eyebrows. “Dicks.”
I rolled my eyes at his ridiculousness. “So you’re a... a bottom?”
“I am. But I would top you if you wanted to see what it felt like to bottom. I haven’t done it in years, but I would for you.”
I frowned, unsure whether I wanted that or not. I didn’t hate the idea, but I had to admit the thought of something in there was... daunting. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.” He reached out and brushed a hand across my beard. “We can start with a finger or my tongue and see how you like it.”
I frowned again. “You’d put your tongue in my ass? That feels good?”
“It feelsamazing.”
21
LOUIS
He was so fuckingsweet and earnest with his questions. And the way he toggled between alpha male one moment and unsure the next was fascinating. That mix of dominance and vulnerability was like catnip. I couldn’t get enough of it.
I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I assure you, there isn’t anything I’ve suggested that I don’t like to do or wouldn’t want done to me. I don’t have a lot of boundaries or hard limits when it comes to sex, but I promise, I won’t compromise them for anyone, so if I’m telling you I like something or I’m willing to do something, you can be sure that I mean it.”
The wrinkle that had formed between his brows smoothed out as he relaxed. “Thank you for being patient with me.”
“No need to thank me. This is the most I’ve enjoyed myself with another man in years.” The truth of it hit me as I said it, taking me by surprise.
“Really?” The wrinkle between his brows returned, and I couldn’t resist pressing my finger to the crease and rubbing it away.
“I think I’ve been in a rut,” I said, thinking back on the last several years of my dating life. “It doesn’t really matter how I meet a man—in a bar, through a friend, an app—the end result is always the same. We get each other off, maybe fuck a few times, then go our separate ways. There’s rarely any emotional connection. Barely even an attempt at polite conversation before getting down to business.” I was revealing too much. Suggesting a lack of these things with others was admitting that I felt these things with him and that put me on dangerous ground. “I mean, I’m not suggesting one has to be married or in a relationship in order to have sex. I just think it would be nice to have a friendship at least.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?” His voice was gruff, his eyes serious.
“I mean, we don’t really know each other, do we?” I scrambled back from the edge of the cliff I was dangerously close to plummeting over. “And I’m going back to the city in a few days, so I don’t really know what that makes us.”
I stood, facing away from him as I pulled up my pants with jerky movements. “Anyway, we should probably get some lunch or something. I’m kind of getting hungry. What sounds good to you?” I smoothed a hand down my sweater, settling it back into place. “I don’t really know what our options are here in town if you want to go out? Or I could make us something. We could eat the leftovers from Christmas. I’m sure I could?—”
“Louis.” His voice was soft but firm, putting a halt to my babbling. His hand rested on my elbow, and I slowly turned to face him. “I’d be honored to call you my friend.”
“Yeah?”
