Page 78 of Save the Game
He stops, suddenly, when I hiss out a pained breath. My fingers are clenched around his ribcage in a way I know is too hard, but I can’t bring myself to loosen the grip. I need to hold on.
“Max, baby,” Luke runs his nose up the side of my face, kissing my cheekbone, “look at me.”
My eyes flick to his. He’s stationary—suspended above me, dark hair fanned around his face as he gazes down at me.
“Breathe, love, you’ve got to breathe,” he reminds me. I take a deep breath in through my nose and it’s like knives in my chest; I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath.
“I’m sorry.” Deliberately, I loosen my fingers. “I’m sorry. I just need a second. I can’t fucking relax.”
Leaning down, he kisses my collarbone, gliding his tongue over the prominent bone. One of his hands slides down my abdomen until his fingers can wrap loosely around my dick, hand rotating idly. Closing my eyes, I take this as the gift it is; he’s trying to help me relax. Every now and then he whispers a reminder to breathe and I dutifully take a deep inhale.
“Okay,” I tell him, “okay, you can move.”
He doesn’t right away, other than to roll his palm over the head of my dick and back down to the base. When he does push his hips incrementally forward, I’m not expecting it. He’s able to tunnel forward and almost bottom out, stretching and filling me until the pressure is almost too much. I pull him forward again, and with another small roll of his hips he’s all the way inside. It’s a lot, and not nearly enough—I want more.
“Max,” he says in warning, when I rock my hips upward in an effort to bring him closer. His voice is strained, the only indication of how hard he’s working to hold himself still. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I answer, and even I’m surprised by how sure and unwavering my voice is. He sighs, blowing out a relieved breath, and leans down to kiss me as he rocks his pelvis against mine.
I can feel every inch of him—every move he makes—as he pulls out and pushes back in, locking in a slow and steady pace. I don’t remember ever being so aware of my body during sex before this; every move Luke makes is catalogued in my skin. He’s watching me, the sort of eye contact that might be too intense for some, but only makes me feel safer. My lovely Luke.
We fall into a rhythm as though we’ve been doing this for years and not for the first time. It’s slow and gentle, and exactly what I needed. Sliding my hands up and threading them through the hair above his ears, I guide him down, panting into his mouth as I kiss him. When he groans, I can feel the vibration in my teeth.
“Come here,” I gasp, pulling on his lower lip with my teeth and desperately trying to convey that I want him on top of me. “Come here.”
Thrusting deep, he carefully lowers down to his elbows and tucks one hand behind my sweaty head. Flush together, our chests slide as he rocks steadily into me, hips angled perfectly to hit my prostate and send shivers tingling down my spine. I kiss him deeply—trying to convey every emotion raging through my body right now. He kisses back, just as hard, because he understands.
With the change in position, his abdomen rubs across the sensitive underside of my dick; the friction, coupled with the prolonged, steady pressure against my prostate, has me coming before I’m able to get a warning out. Luke groans again, low in his chest, and shoves his tongue so far into my mouth he might be looking for my tonsils. My grip on his hair allows me to keep his head there, kissing him with everything I’ve got as he continues to thrust into me, looking for his own release.
The sound he makes when he eventually comes is one I’ll remember until the day I die. Face buried in my neck, he rolls his hips lazily, working himself through it. Probably without meaning to, he’s collapsed fully on top of me, his heavy body pressing me into the bed. I wrap my arms around him, defiantly keeping him there.
My entire body is trembling and covered in a sheen of sweat; I feel like a towel somebody has wrung dry. Except, apparently, for my tear ducts, because naturally I feel like I might cry again. Squeezing my eyes shut and digging my nose into Luke’s damp hair, I try to take calming breaths. No more crying, Max, what the fuck is wrong with you?
A hand reaches up to cup the side of my face. “Maxy?”
“Kiss me,” I gasp, “please.”
Luke lifts his head, holding me in place with a thumb hooked under my jaw, and kisses me. Oh, thank god, I think, before I apply myself to the serious business of kissing Luke and trying not to cry.
“Max,” he tries again, a short time later, pulling his swollen lips away from mine and trailing them along my jaw. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say automatically, as I smooth a palm down his back like he does to me. He stiffens, body going rigid as he realizes how we’re positioned.
“I’ll get off of you,” he says, pushing up and away from me before I can grab ahold of him and keep him near me. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, it’s okay. Really, I’m fine.”
He stares down at me, eyes flitting over my face and down my chest. I watch him, unable to help the smile that spreads across my face as I look at his hair—shiny with perspiration and absolutely wrecked. He answers with a smile of his own, but still slides off to the side and stretches out beside me on the bed. He compromises by throwing a leg over mine and pillowing his head on my shoulder.
“You’re okay,” he says. I don’t think the words were for me, but I respond anyway.
“That’s right.” He shifts. Tilting my head down, I watch as he pulls the condom off, ties the end of it and drops it over the side of the bed, muttering something about getting that later. “Is your hand okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Honestly, I completely forgot about it.” He shrugs. “I might need to retape the splint, later.”
“I’ll help you.” Arm wrapped around his shoulders, I brush his hair flat and lean my face against him. “You’re going to need another shower. You got all sweaty.”
“Let’s stay here for a bit and rest. Then we’ll take a shower together, because you got sweaty, too.” He lifts a hand to my hair, chuckling when he immediately hits a snag.