What He Left Behind(45)

Anything you want, Michael. Just don’t stop.

He stops, though, and nudges me, so I lift my hips. He spreads his legs, and we both exhale as I come down between them. With some more fumbling, clumsiness that would’ve mortified me in my younger days but doesn’t bother me in the slightest now, we guide my cock to his ass, and I push in. He’s tight since we haven’t done a thing to prep him so far, but he slowly relaxes, and I sink into him. After some careful strokes, he’s taking me easily, and I start moving faster. Fucking him effortlessly, as if there’s never been any physical or mental resistance.

Something’s definitely changed tonight. With every stroke and every touch, I’ve been sure he’s going to recoil or tense up, but he hasn’t. As I thrust inside him, he holds onto my arms, digging his nails in and rocking his hips to encourage me to f*ck him harder, and there’s no sign of anything in his expression besides pure lust.

And slowly, it becomes clear why tonight feels different—though Steve is there in the back of my mind, he isn’t here. For the first time, it’s only Michael and me.

He meets my eyes, grabs the back of my neck, and pulls me down into a kiss. Between kissing him and f*cking him, I can’t find nearly enough oxygen, but I don’t care. I’m more than happy to black out if this is the last thing I feel before everything goes dark.

“You feel so good,” he whispers.

“So do you. God, Michael, you feel amazing.”

He grips my arms tighter. “Harder.” He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I bury my head against his neck, slide my hands under him, hold on to his shoulders, and I f*ck him hard, the way he always begged me to when we were younger.

He’s damn near sobbing, egging me on with slurred curses and sharp gasps. Arms around me, he drags his nails down my back, carving lines of delicious burning pain that spur me on.

Then he pulls in a sharp breath. His entire body goes rigid, his muscles tense, his fingers digging hard into my back and his ass so tight around my dick I can barely move, but I keep right on f*cking him anyway.

All at once, he lets go. He releases his breath, and he releases me, and hot semen’s hitting my chest and stomach, and then I’m coming too, driven by his soft little moans and the way he’s trembling beneath me.

With a sigh, I slump over him, holding myself up on shaking arms. Somehow, I manage to pull out, but otherwise, I don’t move. Eyes closed, body trembling all over, I rest my forehead against his shoulder and just breathe.

“Oh my God,” he murmurs after a while.

“Yeah. My thoughts exactly.” Though it’s a struggle, I push myself up.

When Michael meets my eyes, there’s definitely an extra shine in his, but the smile tells me it’s not a bad thing this time. He reaches up with both hands, draws me back down and kisses me so tenderly, he almost moves me to tears too. Then he breaks the kiss and wraps his arms around me, and this time, a couple of hot tears slip free.

Your ex really wasn’t here tonight, was he?

It was just us.

Finally.

Our gazes meet again. He smiles. So do I. We both wipe our eyes and, without a word, pry ourselves apart to clean up.

Moments later, we’re lying in bed again, facing each other on our sides.

He closes his eyes and smiles serenely. “Jesus. I honestly never thought I’d like it that much again.”

I kiss his forehead. “I knew we’d get there.”

His eyes open and his expression darkens a little. “So now comes the next hard part.”

“Which is…?”

He swallows. “Being okay with all of this when it’s someone I’ve never been with before.”

My chest tightens. I hadn’t even thought about that part.

“There’s always Dr. Klein.” He sighs. “Except what if we get to this point and it doesn’t work?”

“Michael.” I stroke his cheek. “If you get to this point with him, and he can’t be patient and accommodating, then he has no business being in bed with you anyway.”

“True. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m quite ready for that yet.”

“Then don’t push it.” I kiss him gently. “We can do this as long as you need to.”

“You’re the best,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around me. “You’ve made such a difference.”

I kiss him again and hold on to him. “Anything I can do to help. I want you to be able to enjoy this again.”

“I already do.” He smiles up at me, but it fades. “Maybe one of these days, I’ll even get to where I can go down on someone again.”

My heart sinks. Ah, yes. The one thing he hasn’t even tried to face down yet.

I study him. “He really traumatized you with that, didn’t he?”

Gaze distant, Michael nods. He gnaws his lip, his brow furrowed as if he wants to speak, but doesn’t know what to say.

As much as I don’t want to kill the mood and send him back, maybe the answers will shed some light on why this is such a battle for him at every turn. My mouth is starting to go dry as I finally ask the question that’s been echoing in my head since day one: “What did he do to you?”

“A lot of things I’d just as soon never talk about again.” He gulps. “But oral was his favorite form of punishment.”