the firm muscles of Blake’s abdomen as he caught his breath. The scent of musk and salt filled his senses. Blake’s skin was hot and damp under his hands where they rested on his hips. For a moment, neither of them moved as they gasped and fought to regain their wits. The only thing that stopped Niall from kissing his way up Blake’s belly and chest to capture his lips again was the dawning awareness that, even post-orgasm, Blake was as tense as a tiger.
That realization caused him to lean back and glance up at him. Where Niall hoped to find a look of sated adoration, Blake looked horrified. Niall swallowed tightly and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He was already taller than Blake by a bit, but with Blake seated on the piano keys, he almost towered above him.
“It’s all right,” he panted, caressing Blake’s face with both hands. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Blake continued to breathe shallowly, staring at Niall as though the world had just come to an end. Anxiety swirled through Niall, killing all of the satisfaction of the moment. He studied Blake with a wary heart, praying he hadn’t just ruined everything. But no, the storm of emotion in Blake’s eyes wasn’t terror over being attacked by someone who had forced him to do something against his will. The fear went much deeper than that.
“It’s all right,” Niall repeated, brushing his fingers through Blake’s hair, his heart breaking for the confusion Blake must have been feeling. Without needing to be told, Niall could guess that he’d just opened Pandora’s Box for Blake. “You’re going to be all right.”
He leaned in, kissing Blake softly, his heart feeling too big and too full for his chest. His adoration for Blake had reached a whole new level. He wasn’t the hopeful supplicant, begging for a piece of Blake’s affection anymore. He was the one with more experience who needed to guide a lost soul through the darkness and into the light.
But as soon as he rocked back to check how Blake was feeling, Blake cleared his throat and said, “I think you should go,” in a hoarse voice.
Niall jerked back, stung. Blake’s gaze dropped below Niall’s waist, where his half-erect cock was still on full view. Something about the look was accusatory, so Niall returned it by staring blatantly at Blake’s prick. The sight of it only filled him with longing and uncertainty, though. He took another step back and fastened his trousers, tucking his shirt in. What should have felt like a moment of victory and closeness had turned into an even worse sort of uncertainty than anything Niall had felt before.
“I’ll go,” he said, turning away. He moved to fetch his things.
“I don’t mean to be—” Blake started, but didn’t finish.
Niall buttoned his waistcoat and jacket, then shoved his school books into his satchel and slung it over his arm. By the time he turned back to Blake, Blake had straightened himself and sat on the piano bench, which he’d pulled out from where it’d been tucked, staring at the damp spot on the cuff of his shirtsleeve. Niall’s face flared hot, knowing he’d caused the dampness.
He wanted to say something, wanted to soothe Blake and make everything all right again. He also wanted to shout at Blake for being blind to his own desires. He couldn’t form words to express either thought, though, so he did the only thing he could do and left.
Only when he was outside in the cool, spring air, striding fast across the university’s campus on the way to his lonely dormitory room, did the guilt set in. He should have talked with Blake first. He should have been brave enough to ask outright what Blake wanted instead of pushing things. The farther away from Blake he got, the more acute his guilt.
By the time he made it back to his room, he knew what he had to do. Without missing a step or wasting a second, he threw his satchel aside and sat at his desk, reaching for a sheet of stationary.
“My dear Blake,” he wrote, then paused. Using Blake’s name along with the things he knew he had to write would spell disaster if the letter were somehow intercepted. For Blake’s sake, he couldn’t take the risk.
“Dearest B,” he wrote on a fresh piece of stationary. “I’m so sorry that I pushed things beyond the point where you were comfortable tonight. But I couldn’t keep my feelings for