Page 90 of Crowe
Then he kissed me, and I stopped thinking about decisions and choices.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” he said against my mouth.
“Yeah,” I said.
We didn’t rush. That was one of the things about Jackson—he never rushed. He walked me backward down the hall with his hands on my hips and his mouth at my throat. By the time we reached the bed, I was already working on his buttons because I wanted my hands on him, and I was done waiting.
He caught my wrists.
“I’ve got it,” he said.
I looked up at him.
“Let me,” he said. Quiet. Certain.
I dropped my hands.
He undressed us both, and by the time he laid me back on the bed, I was already wound tight, and he hadn’t even started.
“Daddy—”
“I’ve got you, baby boy.” He pressed a kiss to my collarbone, my sternum, moving down. “I’ve got you.”
He took his time working his way down my body, his mouth warm and deliberate, finding every place that made me gasp and staying there until I was making sounds I had no control over, and my hands were fisted in his hair.
“Please,” I managed.
He came back up my body and looked at me with a satisfied expression.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
“You,” I said. “I want you.”
“You have me.” He took his time getting me ready for him, and when he finally pushed inside, I let out a long, shuddering breath and pulled him closer with both hands.
“Okay?” he said.
“More than okay,” I breathed. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t stop.
He moved slow and deep, his eyes on my face the whole time. I met every thrust, my legs wrapping around him, and the slow build turned into something urgent and inevitable. I reached between us, and he growled low in my ear and said, “Together.”
“Together,” I said, and meant it in every possible way.
When I came, it rolled through me in long waves, and I cried out his name. He was right there with me, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, his grip on my hips tight and certain as he followed me over.
After, he pulled me against his chest and held me there, his hand moving slowly through my hair, and I listened to his heartbeat and the city outside and the particular quiet of a place I was leaving.
“Daddy,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad it was you who came to get me.”
His arm tightened around me. “So am I, baby boy,” he said quietly. “So am I.”
Crowe
