“Closer,” Brantley urged, tugging Reese until the man was moving over him, straddling his thighs, leaning in.
Up to this point, they’d never been quite this close, this intimate. The previous times they’d kissed, Reese had maintained his distance, which was the reason Brantley urged him closer. He wanted Reese to feel him, to know who he was with at all times.
It was better, but Brantley wanted to feel his heat. He trailed his hands up Reese’s sides, watched the man shiver from the sensations, loving the way those golden eyes glittered with barely restrained passion.
He pulled Reese down until their upper bodies were touching, their chests pressed intimately together.
“This is all I want,” Brantley promised him. “It’s all I’m askin’ you to give me.”
For now, it was more than enough.
***
Fuck.
Too good.
Reese wasn’t sure why this was the most erotic encounter of his entire life up to this point, but it was. Or, at least, it sure felt like it.
Had touching someone ever felt this fucking good? Having their hands on him? No. Definitely not. His entire body hummed … no, make that vibrated with lust. Beneath him, Brantley was so warm, so hard. Reese could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressed between them, extremely close to his own. It took effort not to grind his hips, to rut against the man just to ease the ridiculous ache.
It probably should’ve felt strange, but it didn’t. The hard planes and angles of Brantley’s body were noticeably different than the soft, smooth contours of the women Reese had been with before, sure. But it was a good different. Where he was used to soft sighs and a gentle touch, he got neither with Brantley. Firm hands stroked over his skin, leaving blazing heat in their wake while the hard body beneath him held still, as though he was worried Reese might panic and go running from the room.
Running was the last thing on his mind. For one, he wasn’t sure his lungs were working properly. Every time Brantley’s hands grazed his bare back, Reese sucked in oxygen like it was scarce. And every time they went dangerously close to his ass, Reese held his breath, praying like hell Brantley would venture just a little lower.
Until finally he did.
Brantley’s big hands cupped his ass, gently pulling him closer.
Reese grunted as the friction on his cock had him seeing stars.
“Don’t,” he rasped.
The hands released him and suddenly Brantley was staring up at him, confused.
“I didn’t mean to stop doin’ that,” he clarified, sliding his arms beneath Brantley’s, curling his fingers around his shoulders, letting the man bear his full weight as he laid out over him. “Just don’t make me come like a fuckin’ teenager.”
Brantley chuckled, his body loosening, hands returning, only this time they slid inside Reese’s jeans, those calloused palms scraping sensually on his ass.
“Fuck,” he bit out, unable to stop himself from humping the man beneath him.
“Let go, Reese,” Brantley urged, his deep voice scraping along every one of his senses.
“Don’t … please don’t make me do this.”
“Never make you,” Brantley whispered softly, his lips pressing to Reese’s neck, his tongue licking along the underside of his jaw.
Reese was rocking his hips forward, back, the hands inside his jeans holding on but not forcing him. No, Brantley wasn’t controlling this, Reese was. It was his movements that were working him dangerously close to the edge.
“Kiss me, Reese. Put your mouth on mine.”
He did and when he plunged his tongue inside Brantley’s mouth, his hips bucked, and a devastating moan escaped as his cock exploded. He came like a teenager who had no control over his dick.
He went limp, but that didn’t seem to bother Brantley. The hands slipped out of his jeans and moved over his back, gentler this time, soothing. Those solid arms wrapped around him, holding him as though he mattered, and the sensation was foreign yet not entirely unwelcome.
Reese was still aware of Brantley’s cock, hard and thick beneath his hips. His brain conjured up images he’d never thought would flit about inside his head. He could imagine himself with his lips wrapped around Brantley’s thick shaft, sliding over him, taking him in deep… He wanted to taste, to explore, to experience the pleasures he knew could be had with this man.
Again, there was hesitance, though his resistance was dwindling. With every passing second, he wanted more, wanted to know what it would feel like to give himself to a man. No. Not just any man. To this man. Only Brantley.
Another grunt escaped him as he drove the images out of his head. It wasn’t that they were inappropriate, but this really wasn’t the time or place. His brain wasn’t yet on the same track as his body, and until they were aligned, he knew he needed to put on the brakes.
