into me. “Umm, that was a joke to cover up that I don’t take compliments well.”
“I’ve complimented you heaps before.”
“Not like this. Not like …” He steps forward, pressing his bare skin against mine.
I shudder against him. “Just so you know, I think you’re super smart.”
Lyric’s voice comes out low. “You also think Pop-Tarts are a suitable breakfast food, so I don’t trust your judgment.”
I pull back and look him in the eye. “More deflection with humor?”
“No, I really do worry for your sugar levels. Not to mention Kaylee’s.”
I snort.
I love how things are between us. Downstairs, we couldn’t get enough of each other. There was no tearing me away. We needed to be touching, kissing, finding an outlet for the tension that’s been building and building, but right now, we can be us. I like that it’s easy and hot, yet there’s a level of comfort between us since we were friends first.
Being with him once tonight was never going to be enough.
I don’t know when or if I could ever get enough of Lyric.
Here, now, I have him in a different way. He’s more vulnerable and softer, but he’s still full of the light he brought into my life.
“Kiss me,” I say.
“I insult you, and you tell me to kiss you. I’d accuse you of having issues, but instead, I’m going to chalk it up to being so adorably cute you forgive me when I say mean things.”
“It’s something like that.” I cup the back of his head, my hand weaving into his hair, and lean in to fuse our mouths together.
We take our time now, the urgency from downstairs dissolving into something deeper.
I turn us and walk him back toward the bed, pushing him down while I climb on top of him.
Lyric feels so damn good underneath me, all pliant and willing.
But it isn’t about him this time.
I sit up and straddle him so I can reach for supplies in my top drawer. I usually keep them in my studio where I know little, snooping eyes won’t find them, but like going to Lyric’s show tonight prepared, I wanted some close by in case my loose plan to bring Lyric back here came to fruition.
Lyric’s hands roam all over me, but there’s a tenderness there.
I throw a condom on the bed and grab the lube. I go to squirt some onto my fingers, but Lyric holds out his hand.
“Let me.” He takes it from me and covers his fingers. “You want to ride my fingers first?”
I nod. It’s been a while since I tried this, but I don’t really want to admit that.
Either Lyric can sense I’m not used to it or he’s overly cautious, because he takes his time teasing my hole while softly stroking my cock. It’s not enough to get me off, just enough to keep me hard while I focus on taking his fingers.
When one finally pushes inside me, I remember what it’s like to have a cock in my ass, splitting me apart. I crave the ache and the sense of fullness.
I sink down on his finger, taking him easily, and beg him to add more.
Lyric stares up at me with hooded eyes, his long hair framing his face.
This is different than when I fucked him in his dressing room. This is more intimate, and I can make out every expressive emotion on his face. From the want to the doubt.
I want to reassure him. He has to know how he’s affecting me too, and not just his fingers in my ass but him as a person.
Leaning down, I take his mouth with mine while I continue to ride his fingers.
With his free hand, he cups the back of my head as if holding me in place to keep my lips on his, my tongue teasing.
I’m so ready.
I roll off him, his fingers slipping from my ass, and I already miss the intrusion.
My ass clenches as I beckon for him to get on top of me, but he only leans up on his elbow.
“You okay?”
“Perfect. I need your cock inside me, though.”
Lyric maneuvers himself in between my legs, reaching for the condom as he does.
I can’t do anything but watch while he rolls it down his long and impressive cock.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
I pull him down on top of me and wrap my legs around his waist. The head of his cock lines up with my hole.
“Do it.”
Still, he pushes in slowly. I’m thankful but needy at the same time. I’m