Page 71 of Weathering The Storm

“Your body…” he whispers to himself, massaging the arches of my feet, my ankles, my calves. The backs of my knees. Places I never would’ve considered erogenous before Seth’s thumbs apply pressure, and I feel his hands as if they’re wrapped around my dick. Squeezing and tugging.

I’ve been biting back moans the entire time he’s been touching me, but when his hands come up to cup my ass, I groan helplessly. My cock hardens until I can feel the floor planks through the rug.

His hands spread over my glutes, taking big handfuls and fanning out. Holding. Spreading me as his thumbs drag along the insides of my crack. He inhales deeply, spit crackling at the back of his throat. Like he’sdroolingfrom the thought of having me.

The ache in my heart—it’s spread somewhere lower.

“I need you,” I breathe. Moaning as he lowers himself enough that his chest warms the air between us.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” He bends down, pressing his lips to the dimples of my hips. One, then the other. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Need to feel you. Need to feel that you’re okay, that you’re here with me.”

“I’m here.” He kisses along my spine, his hands running up my sides. “I’ve got you.”

Chapter 20

Seth

We don’t make it onto the bed. Six feet is too far, with Nick relaxed beneath me, all smooth, fire-warmed skin. All strength—physical, mental. But what I love most is being the person he doesn’t have to be strong with. Being the person who gets to hold him up when he takes on too much weight for one person to bear.

In the back of my mind, I know it’s only been a few days. I’ve gone far longer without. We’ve been apart for longer while at work. But I’ve never needed him more than I do now.

He might need the reminder that I’m alive, I’m his, but I needhimto know what it means that he’d risk himself to save me. That I can count on him to be there for me through anything.

I need him to know that, in the darkest moments of my life—chiseling ice on the railings of a doomed ship, being swept away from the lifeboat faster than I could swim—it was the memory of the night before everything went to hell that kept me calm. The memory of feeling him all around me, of falling asleep beside him with the hope that one day we’d be here.

Exactly where we are right now.

I crawl down between his legs, grabbing his knees and pushing them out. Spreading his legs to make more room for me, then taking that perfect ass of his in both hands and spreading him there, too. Watching as his hole flutters before relaxing at thesuggestionthat I might touch him, taste him, fuck him.

“I love this,” I tell him, lightly teasing him with my fingertips.

His hips wiggle, a stifled sound leaving him.

I grab his hands, placing them where mine were. “I’ll be back in a second. Hold yourself open for me.”

I get up and grab a few things out of my nightstand. Making a liar out of myself as I stand there for far more than a second. Justwatching. Admiring the way he looks with his back arched, his fingers digging into the muscles of his own ass, and his hips lifted off the ground. Open and ready. Showing me how bad he wants me.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I lower myself to one knee. Both. “I’m looking at the sexiest little hole I’ve ever seen. Trying to findout how much it’ll loosen up for me before I even lay a finger on you.”

“Rit.”

I can’t tell which I love more. The melty, gooey way my first name rolls off his tongue, or the rough way he bites out my nickname.

“Yes, Captain?” I bend forward, blowing a gust of warm breath over his exposed ass.

Nick groans, hips thrusting forward helplessly. “Touch me.”

“Hmm. I’m used to your orders being a lot more specific than that.”

“Fingerme.”

“Yes, sir.”

The exhale of relief he releases is short-lived. I thumb his chin and shove two fingers between his parted lips. Cock thickening at the moist heat, the flex of his tongue, his sounds vibrating against the pads of my middle and forefinger.