back. “You did?”
“Yeah, I think she almost died.”
I laughed and kissed him softly. “We’ll figure it out, baby.”
He sighed and met my eyes. “I don’t think I’m scared anymore. I don’t even know why I was. I just couldn’t bear the thought of pain or being vulnerable, I dunno why. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“I used to love sex.”
I smiled. The truth was, he loved it a lot. “You did.”
“And I think about how gentle you are and how kind you are and how you know what I need,” he whispered. “And I began to imagine what that would be like in bed. What you’d be like, how you’d treat me, and what you’d do to me. And my body was like, ‘hell yes,’ and my brain was like, ‘okay, even I agree to that.’”
I laughed. “Glad they agreed.”
“They haven’t agreed on much since the accident,” he replied dryly. “But they agree on this. Mostly my body, not gonna lie. But Dallas, I want it. I want you. I’ve had enough pain in the last few months to last me a lifetime. I want to feel good. I want to know what pleasure is. And I know you’ll show me.”
“I will.”
“Just promise me something . . .”
I cupped his face. “Anything.”
“Please don’t be mad if I freak out or need you to stop.”
“Oh, baby. I would never be mad.”
“Because your dick is huge.”
I snorted out a laugh. “It’s not really.”
“Did it . . . did we ever have any . . . fitting issues?”
I laughed at that. “Ah, no.” I traced his eyebrow with my thumb, down his jaw, and across his bottom lip. “Baby, you loved it. You’d beg for it. You wanted it for hours.”
His nostrils flared and he swallowed hard. “Oh.”
I kissed him softly and whispered against his lips. “I will make it so good for you, you’ll never want it to end.”
His dick twitched against mine. “Uh, maybe we can have toast for dinner. I think we need to go to bed,” he said. Then he made a face. “I’m not ready for a sex marathon, but I’m sure you can make me come again. Maybe twice.”
I kissed him deeper, giving him some tongue, and his dick pulsed again between us. “Toast for dinner it is.”
We both slept like the dead. I’d wrung two more orgasms out of him like he’d asked, but maybe the last one had been too much. His body couldn’t handle that kind of muscle-expenditure, being so tense and taut, and as much as I’d tried to relax him, orgasms were a strain on a tired body.
But I’d had him lie on the bed, face down, his legs spread. I’d massaged and rubbed him down, sensually and intimately. Then with a little bit of lube, I’d rubbed his hole and fingered him, working him into a frenzy before I rolled him over and sucked him.
Then I’d knelt between his thighs and jerked off, spilling my come onto his belly. He was too tired to shower, so I cleaned him up and finally crawled into bed beside him. He wrapped himself around me and I held him just as tight.
“When we get the test results back,” he’d mumbled. “I’ll be so ready.”
We fell asleep and I don’t think either of us moved all night.
I was up before him and had the scrambled eggs on toast and coffees made as he came out of the bedroom. “Perfect timing,” I said.
He scowled, which was completely normal for Justin first thing, but he was limping more than usual.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Sore.”
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry,” I said, helping him to his seat.
He sipped his coffee first. “Nah, ’s okay. It’s a good sore. Well, not good. Physio sore is a bad sore. Overdoing it sore is a bad sore. Sore from too much sex is good sore.” He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little. “I do. What I think was, coming three times last night was probably one time too many.”
He picked up his fork. “Speak for yourself.”
I snorted. “Okay, well, last night it was fine. Today, not so much.”
“I’ll be okay after a hot shower.” He ate some breakfast and nodded. “This is good. Thank you. One day I’ll cook you breakfast.”
I stabbed some egg with my fork. “Juss, you’ve never been a morning person. Ever.”
He made a face that was almost a smile. “Mornings’d be all right . . . if they started around lunchtime.”
I laughed. “Good