A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,79

his back, his fingers trembling as he clutched at Rhys’s chest. Emerson’s heart was jackhammering against Rhys’s shoulder blades as he inhaled a shaky breath and surged forward again.

Now with Emerson halfway inside, Rhys clamped his jaw as stars floated in front of his eyes. Their bodies were finally connected on a different level, a profoundly meaningful one, and it was everything Rhys imagined it would be. So fucking good.

“Damn, this…you feel incredible,” Emerson said, pumping his groin in shallow thrusts, as small licks of electric heat ignited along Rhys’s spine. Rhys groaned and bucked against him, completely overwhelmed with sensation.

Breathe, Rhys. Breathe. He wanted to feel every first with Emerson, every gasp and moan and shiver. He wanted this night to count as one of those moments when they fell even deeper in love.

Staggering emotion coursed through him. “I love you, Em.”

Emerson sighed, his fingers tangling with Rhys’s. “Love you too.”

Then he snapped his hips, stealing Rhys’s breath.

Emerson groaned, his thrusts sloppy and uneven. “I can’t…I’m gonna come.”

Rhys took hold of his own cock and pumped himself into oblivion as Emerson cried out, his come spurting deep inside Rhys. Fuck, he loved how that felt. It was a first all its own.

Emerson gasped against his shoulder, his cock throbbing inside him, and Rhys shuddered as his own jizz painted his stomach. He grasped for Emerson’s fingers, kissing his knuckles and murmuring his name as they lay tangled together, panting.

When Emerson made the motion to move, Rhys squeezed his hand more firmly. “Wait, please. You’re still half hard. Want you to stay inside me a minute longer.”

“M’kay. I like the way it feels.” Emerson’s voice was thick and drowsy as he feathered kisses against his shoulder and neck.

Rhys shut his eyes on a sigh, loving that feeling of fullness, before drifting off to a sated sleep.

28

Emerson

Emerson opened his eyes to the rustling of leaves outside their window, and was met by bright beams of sunshine. That could only mean it was going to be another pretty day. Though nothing could top yesterday for him. The park, the butterflies, the declaration of feelings, and what happened after.

For the first time in years he felt…cautiously optimistic, and maybe a bit giddy, to use one of Audrey’s words. He was the type to hedge his bets, but as he listened to Rhys’s soft breaths, sureness arose inside him. Maybe after everything horrible that had happened in their lives, he and Rhys were meant to see each other through the fog. Forever, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t want to scare Rhys or himself with that thought, but fuck if the very idea didn’t make him feel all emotional and dreamy, which so wasn’t like him.

He felt flush as he thought back to last night. Not to the first time they’d made love. That had been earth-shattering in itself, the best sex of his life, even if he hadn’t had much practice and had shot his load way too soon.

We have years to improve our stamina.

Emerson sighed. He’d bottle that feeling from last night if he could. It was like floating above the clouds, stomach swooping, senses on high alert, as the entire universe was laid out before him. Okay, a bit dramatic. But it certainly helped him appreciate Rhys’s adventures a bit more.

It was the second time he was picturing now, when he’d used his hand to get them off in the middle of the night, after he’d woken in a stupor, stumbled to the bathroom to take a leak, then dampened a towel to clean them up, not that it did them any good. They’d have to launder the sheets because good God, even the room smelled like sex, and that wasn’t something he could proclaim too often.

The silhouette of Rhys’s muscular back and gorgeous ass had been on full display as he’d staggered back to the bed. His cock had been between those plump cheeks, and now he was hard again just looking at him. He’d lifted the towel to swipe at Rhys’s thighs, which looked sticky from Emerson’s come, not that Rhys complained.

Rhys had looked so adorably peaceful in his sleep, Emerson couldn’t help leaning forward and brushing his lips against his shoulder, then the small of his back. He would’ve nibbled at the fleshy part of his ass too if it wouldn’t have stirred him.

He couldn’t wait to take his time with him.

Rhys had hummed and shifted onto his side, and Emerson had felt guilty for disturbing