Trust (London Love #5)

“Phone charger?” he offered from his bloody rucksack. “Overpriced chocolate bar?”

“All good.” I rolled my eyes right back at him but got my phone out of my jeans, sent a quick text to my dad and set my alarm. Gray plugged the charger in and climbed into the bed beside me, shoving Mr Snuggles under his head. I burrowed further under the huge, fluffy duvet, trying to ignore Gray wriggling around like the idiot he was, then grabbed hold of him and shoved his head against my chest, my face in his hair. Kisses. Fuck it. Him. Just him and me. Here.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For…you know.”

“I know. And fuck the boundaries. Fancy sucking my dick?”

If I thought my life had started to derail before? Today, I’d felt like I was getting back on track. Then he ripped his jumper off and kissed me, and I lost all sense of direction again.

Just him and that mouth of his on my skin and I couldn’t even think. Fingertips on my chest. Goosebumps everywhere. He hadn’t even gone anywhere near my dick, and it was already throbbing like anything in my boxers.

I kicked the duvet away, desperately wriggling out of all that unnecessary clothing.

“Boundaries,” he whispered into my neck. He stopped and looked at me. “Do you trust me?”

He’d asked before, but his honesty floored me, as did my feelings for him, leaving me reeling in no-man’s land.

“I do,” I whispered. “I trust you.”

“Okay. Then let me take care of you. I’m going to make you feel so good. Nothing will hurt.”

He always said that. Always took care of me, even when I couldn’t take care of myself.

I lay there, my hands over my eyes as he kissed down my chest. I couldn’t watch. I wasn’t used to this. I didn’t sleep with people. Well…

“I’ve only ever had sex with two other people, and they were both girls. I don’t think I was very good,” I blurted in a panic.

“Well, Reuben,” he said, placing a kiss on my hip, a soft breath against my stomach. His hair brushed over my dick. For fuck’s sake, dick. A bit of hair was apparently all it took for me to start leaking stuff, while he lay with his chin on my stomach, talking.

“Expectations. Let me lay them out. I’m going to suck your dick. Very, very gently. I don’t want you to come, not yet. Then, when you’re all messy and desperate…”

“Messy and desperate?” I huffed out. I’d give him messy and desperate. Another puff of air over my dick, his hair sweeping across my stomach.

“Gray?” Pathetic.

“When you’re messy and desperate, tell me what you need.”

Okay. I got it.

“Please suck my dick?”

His lips touched my cock, just the lightest contact with the tip, then warmth and wetness as he opened his mouth, licking and kissing. I bit on my knuckle to stop the sounds coming from me.

“There’s nobody here,” he murmured. “Just us. You can shout and scream and beg and…talk to me. Tell me how it feels.

“More.”

And there was my hand fisting his hair. I was trying not to push, but he made it so easy, my cock once again sinking into all that heat. Suction. His tongue moving over my skin. Then cold air followed by his warm grip around me, pumping and squeezing. Those soft lips. My hips thrusting. My hand. Oh, fuck.

“More!”

“Good boy. Tell me what you need.”

“Gray,” I moaned. Oh, fuck.