The air between us was molten.
I kissed my way down his throat, biting gently at the place where his pulse beat wildly beneath his skin. He moaned—low and guttural—and arched into me.
Skin pressed to skin, and every brush of our bodies was reverent, hungry, worshipful.
Julian was fire and restraint, vulnerability wrapped in sharp edges, and I wanted all of it. I kissed down his chest, memorizing every inch, every hitch of breath, every quiet curse he let slip.
When our hips met, and we aligned—flesh to flesh—I saw it in his face.
Not just lust.
Not just need.
Trust.
I slowed down then, because I had to.
He was opening to me in a way that wasn’t just physical.
He was letting me in.
And I wasn’t going to take that lightly.
I cupped his cheek, leaned down, and kissed him again.
Softly this time, and I felt Julian’s cock press against mine. Groaning, I kissed the side of his neck and felt his body tense beneath me. His fingers curled into my hair, and our tonguesdanced together, a slow and sensual rhythm that mirrored the movements of our bodies. Julian's fingers traced patterns down my back, sending shivers of desire through me. Every touch was a spark, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.
I broke the kiss and trailed my lips down his chest, savoring the taste of his skin, the saltiness of his sweat. His breath hitched as I reached his navel, my hands gripping his hips, pulling him closer. I could feel the heat of his desire, the urgency in his touch, and it only fueled my own need.
Wrapping my hand around his girth, I blew a stream of air on the head of it, and Julian’s breath hitched. I looked up, meeting his gaze, and held it as I slowly took him into my mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, and a deep groan escaped his lips, resonating through me. I savored him, taking my time, exploring every inch, listening to his body and the subtle shifts that told me what he liked. His fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me gently, not forcing, just feeling.
I could taste the salt of him, smell the musk of his desire, and it was intoxicating. Every sound he made, every gasp and hushed whisper of my name, sent waves of heat crashing through me. I was aching, hard, desperate for him, but this—this was about Julian. About showing him he was safe with me, that I saw him, that I wanted all of him.
When his hips started to move, when his breath turned to pants and his grip tightened, I knew he was close. I slowed down, letting him catch his breath, then built him up again, taking him deeper, wanting to push him over that edge.
“Jude,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. “Please, I don't want it to end yet. Let me taste you."
I paused, his words sending a rush of heat through me. I looked up, his cock still glistening from my mouth, and saw the raw need in his eyes. I released him, gently, and moved up hisbody, capturing his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. He could taste himself on my lips, and it only seemed to fuel his desire.
He pushed me gently, and I rolled onto my back, allowing him to explore my body as I had his. His fingers danced over my skin, tracing the lines of my muscles, the curves of my bones. He kissed my neck, my chest, lingering on my nipples until I was arching into him, gasping his name.
Julian's mouth moved lower, kissing every inch of me as if it were sacred ground. I felt his hot breath on my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, and I shivered with anticipation. When he finally took my cock into his mouth, it was my turn to grip his hair, my turn to gasp and moan and whisper his name like it was a secret that belonged only to me.
He was tentative at first, but his confidence grew with each sound of pleasure he drew from me. He explored me with his tongue, his lips, his hands, and I was lost in the sensation, lost in him. I felt his fingers brush against that sensitive spot behind my balls, and I bucked into his mouth, a cry escaping my lips.
"Julian," I gasped, "I'm close, but I don't want this to end yet."
He looked up at me, my cock still in his mouth, and the sight of him—his lips swollen, his eyes filled with desire and trust, made me shiver. Julian released my cock from his lips, and it hit my stomach with a soft smack.
"I want to make love to you, Julian." My body trembled as I got to my knees. Julian slid onto his back and his legs spread open, making room for me. I got in between his legs and rubbed the head of my cock against his entrance.
"God, I want you inside of me, Jude." A tear snaked down the side of his nose, and I had to wonder if this really was the first time he'd ever made love. Not fucked. No, I was sure he'd had many men before me. But I wanted to connect with him in the most intimate way possible.
I leaned over, brushed my lips across his, then I reached into the nightstand and pulled out condoms and a tube of lube. I warmed the slick gel between my fingers before gently tracing his entrance, feeling him tense briefly before relaxing into my touch. I took my time, circling, pressing lightly, letting him get used to the sensation. His breath hitched, and I leaned down to kiss him, swallowing his gasps, feeling his body gradually open up to me.
I slid one finger inside, slowly, carefully, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. But all I saw was desire, trust, and a growing need. I moved my finger in and out, crooking it slightly to find that spot that made his eyes roll back and his body arch. When he started to move with me, I added a second finger, stretching him, preparing him.
His hands gripped the sheets, his knuckles white, but his eyes never left mine. "More," he whispered, his voice raw with need. "I want more of you, Jude."