Forever & Always pt 3Reposted
“What?”
“I am ready to have sex with you, Anthony.”
He froze. Blinking rapidly, opening and shutting his mouth over and over, searching for something to say. Taking a deep breath and a step back, he stuttered, “Are you sure, Ian? Because… well, if you only want to for me, then we should wait. I don’t want to if you only want to for me.”
“Anthony, I love to make you happy. Your smile lights up my world. When you are happy, I am happy. But right now, there is nothing I want more than to be yours. Exclusively. I love you. It took me thirteen years to realize it, but I love you and I want this. I want you.”
I couldn’t believe my luck. The most beautiful person on the planet wanted to be mine. I had waited over half my life for this. For Ian. He loved me, and wanted me to be happy. Damn. He was so damn sexy, staring me down with the most precious jewels in the world. His icy blues sent shivers down my spine. My second brain took control of the situation. I pushed Ian against the wall, planting butterfly kisses on the top of his head. I know I call his haircut stupid. But it’s so damn sexy. It suits him better than it would anyone else. I couldn’t imagine him any other way. I trailed kisses down the side of his head, his closed eyes, and his button nose. Then I got more forceful. I was feeling the familiar traveling heat, as I always did, even seeing Ian. By this time, I would be pulling my knees to my chest, so he wouldn’t see my embarrassing problem. But today, there was no hiding. Everything happening was expected of boyfriends. At least I think that is what we are. I couldn’t remember. Shit. I can’t remember anything. Not even my name. Everything on my mind was Ian. All I could focus on was the feeling of him pressed against me. His soft skin underneath my lips. His hot breath, his cool scent.
He groaned, “Anthony….”
I buried my face in his hair, taking a deep breath. It smelled warm, like soft, clean sheets, but cool, sharp, like a winter night. All of it together was just Ian. Shit. There goes my name again. Whatever. I’ll remember later. He wrapped his arms around my neck. I felt a drowsy contentment spread through me. He smiled, dropping his left hand down. He lightly pressed against my hard dick. I couldn't help it. I scream-groaned. My eyes prematurely rolled back in my head. I felt the throes of my orgasm grow stronger and we haven't even started sex.
“Which bed?”
I had my fingers on his crotch, and he wanted to decide on what bed? I had thought we would just decide when we got to whatever bedroom was first. I took his hand, led him down the hall, to…Ant’s room.
He pulled me into his strong arms, took me in for a kiss. I hugged him, feeling his rapid pulse against mine. He crushed his face against mine, rubbing his soft, wet tongue along my bottom lip, bit down on it. A brush of euphoria tickled through my body. He broke the kiss for a moment, to yank his shirt over his head. His hair stood on edge, creating an unbelievably sexy bedhead look. His bronzed, perfectly proportioned chest exposed, he kissed me again, and commanded,
“Shirt off. Now.” In my anxiety, my fingers shook. I had been shirtless in front of Anthony millions of times, but never as more than friends. Never as... Boyfriends. I could no longer deny this. What we had was magical, much better than any girl. We had history. Our shared love had been fermenting over years. Not sprung from lust. We had both been afraid of ridicule, abandonment. We had both been afraid our feelings weren’t returned. Now we knew they were. I wanted to laugh, remembering how hard I worked to not look “gay” in front of the most gorgeous man I ever met. I couldn’t exactly laugh now, because my face was pretty much occupied. This time, I broke the kiss, I tore my shirt off, and he was the one pouting. He sat on the bed making his adorable puppy face. I joined him and we sat, staring into each other’s eyes. His melted like warm chocolate syrup. With the look in his eyes, I imagined he was looking into my soul. He seemed to love what he saw.
“I love you, Ian.”
“Forever and always, Anthony.”
He stood up again, stripping of his jeans. I noticed he carefully left his boxers on.
“Your turn, bitch.”
I took a deep, inaudible breath. I didn’t want him to know I was nervous. I stood up, quietly saying, “Wanna help me?”
He looked down at me, tantalizing me with what I couldn’t reach.
He kissed me roughly, fiercely, protectively. I felt his hands lightly breeze down my sides, to the top of my skinny jeans. He fumbled with the button, tore at the zipper. His hands were icy, but they left burning trails of flames on my skin. He pushed me down on the bed, tugging at my jeans, trying to pull them off. The chill of his hands on my ankles, everywhere he touched burned. Finally he got them down to my ankles. Yanking them over my feet, he said, “Last chance to back out.”