Dash scrambled up, slipped, and caught himself on the coffee table. He stumbled drunkenly toward the bed, and Thorne followed, pausing only to grab lube and a condom from Dash’s bag. Dash settled on his back on the bed, legs spread open for Thorne. Fucking him face-to-face was a bad idea. It was only going to make the ache in his chest worse if he watched Dash’s face as he moved inside him. But no way in hell was he going to give up the chance. This “relationship” could all come crashing down at any moment. If Dash realized what he was feeling, surely he’d run.
He squirted lube on his fingers, dropped the bottle on the bed, and sat on his knees between Dash’s legs. “So fucking hot,” he murmured as he toyed with Dash’s ass, running his finger around the edge of his entrance, giving him nothing more than a little pressure.
Dash moved his hips almost imperceptibly, obviously trying to stay still, to keep Thorne from seeing how desperate he was.
“You want this?” Thorne asked as he entered Dash with a finger, slowly working his way deeper.
Dash gasped and tilted his head back, eyes closed. “So fucking much.” God, he was beautiful, and this all seemed so unreal.
“Do you really want this, me fucking you?” He was hanging over the cliff now.
Dash opened his eyes and looked at Thorne. There was fear there and uncertainty. “Thorne?”
“I know I shouldn’t ask that. I know that’s not what this is.”
“I do. I want it.” Dash closed his eyes as if he couldn’t look at Thorne after his confession.
Thorne pulled his finger out and grabbed the condom, so worked up, physically and emotionally, he could barely roll it on. He slicked his cock and then he was there, pushing into Dash, moving slowly, giving Dash a chance to adjust, though he thought he would die if he didn’t bury himself immediately. He needed to be balls deep in Dash, to be as close to him as he could. What was his problem? Insanity? Stress sending him over the edge?
Dash was panting, his leg muscles hard as rock where they lay over Thorne’s shoulders. “You okay?”
Dash nodded frantically. “Yes! Just…need more!”
Thorne needed more too. He thrust, finally going in all the way.
“Fuck!” Dash cried.
Thorne hung over Dash, trying to breathe, trying not to fucking come before he even got started, because the hot clasp of Dash’s ass—having him there, begging, need so plain on his face, body spread out for Thorne—was almost more than he could take.
Thorne wasn’t going to rush this. He kept his rhythm slow and steady. Dash writhed beneath him. “You’re killing me. Get on with it.”
Thorne cupped the back of Dash’s neck, raising his head so they could kiss again. He’d forgotten how good kissing could be. Their tongues fought, shoving their way past one another. Thorne slid his lips along Dash’s throat and sucked at the spot where his neck and shoulder met, wanting to mark him, knowing he shouldn’t.
“Do it!” Dash demanded.
He bit again, harder this time. Dash cried out and hot cum splattered on Thorne’s chest. He let go of Dash’s shoulder and drove in hard. No more slow, no more careful. He had to come. Right fucking then. Release hit like a punch, and he was flying, shouting Dash’s name, his real name, Riley.
Thorne lay there, knowing his blunder might be unforgivable, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t apologize. He buried his face in Ri-Dash’s neck.
Dash’s hands stroked his back; he didn’t pull away, didn’t tense with anger. Maybe Thorne hadn’t ruined everything after all.
When Thorne thought he could sit up without passing out, he rose off Dash, but he didn’t look him in the eye. He was too much of a coward. He fumbled his way to the bathroom, disposed of the condom, and splashed cold water on his face. His reflection showed every one of his forty-two years. Twenty more than Dash. Twenty. What the fuck was he thinking? He cleaned himself up, wet a washcloth, and brought it to Dash. Thorne wasn’t ready to face him, but he couldn’t put it off any longer.
“I’m sorry.” More words piled up behind those, but he shut his mouth, locking them in.
Dash watched him.
After a few seconds, Thorne couldn’t stand the silence. He sorted through the things he wanted to say and found something appropriate. “Does it help to know I’ve apologized more to you in a few weeks than I have to anyone in years?”
Dash smiled then. “Maybe. I’d like to think I bring out the good in you.”
Thorne’s chest tightened. He finally looked into Dash’s eyes. Thorne didn’t see what he’d expected. Dash didn’t appear angry; wary maybe, but not angry.
“I crossed a line, and I shouldn’t have,” Thorne said.
Dash nodded. “I actually kind of liked it. But please don’t do it again.”