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were pressed together now, and they both were breathing too fast. "You could just tell me," Leader whispered, lips close again. "No," Axton whispered back, eyes lowered again, "No." He did not even know what he was denying anymore, but he had to hold fast. They bowed their heads together, and Axton needed to move away, wanted desperately to want to move away, but... "Okay," Leander said quietly, "Okay. Then how about--we just--" His other hand dropped down to Axton's knee. "What?" Axton asked thickly, tongue feeling too big for his mouth, "Just what?" "Just..." Leander started, hesitating and then sliding his hand inside Axton's thigh and up. "...this..." Axton took a big gulping breath in too fast, feeling dizzy. Watching the slow rise of Leander's hand up his thigh was too much. "What," he said, raising his gold eyes to Leander's, "Do you mean?" "This," Leander whispered in the dark, sliding his hand up the crease where Axton's thigh started, "Just this." He cupped his palm over Axton's cock, rubbing the bulge through the thick denim. Axton's grip on Leander's wrist tightened, but his eyes had dropped back down, unable to look in Leander's eyes. He breathed unsteadily. Slowly, steadily, watching him all the while, Leander kept rubbing. "Okay," Axton said finally, breath catching, nodding shakily, "Okay." "Yeah?" Leander breathed, shifting closer. "Yeah," Axton whispered, "Yeah." Pale light was only just barely filtering through the windows, the kind of light that reminded the world that it was still late night and not really yet early morning. Everything was awash in greys, except for what was already stark shadow black. Leander unbuckled Axton's belt one handed--it was, Axton remembered numbly, his own belt, after all, and Axton had just borrowed it--and slipped his hand into Axton's jeans. All the smoothness of the motion didn't cover his hesitance, and Axton knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Leander was new to this. He should stop him, say something, tell him it was okay and that he didn't have to, or tell him that they should slow down, or talk about what any of Leander's girlfriends might want to say, or just anything, anything to stop this from feeling like an anonymous hook up. Axton bit his lip and closed his eyes. That was Leander's hand on his dick, that was Leander Avilez touching his dick, beautiful and strong and oh so straight Leander, and his hand was rough in all the right places, calloused from lifting weights but touching softly. Leander maneuvered his dick out into the open, navigating the slit in Axton's underwear and pushing his jeans down low on his hips. Leander was watching himself do it now, watching his hands, eyes lowered like he had to be careful. Axton opened his eyes, had time to wonder why he was so fixated on watching the concentration on Leander's face when he should be watching Leander's hand on his dick, and then looked at his dark blond lashes for a few seconds longer. Leander decided to change positions, shifting off the bed and crouching down between Axton's legs, making eye contact and holding it the whole time. It made Axton's thighs clench and his dick twitch. All that muscle coiled before him like that--all of Leander's powerful frame kneeling between his knees--Axton was sure nothing could ever make him feel so shaky and off balance with desire again. Then Leander did a long, slow slide and Axton exhaled hard, closed his eyes again, and let his head fall back. There was pre-come, clear and slippery, on the tip of Axton's cock now. Leander twisted so that the palm of his hand wrapped around the head of Axton's cock, spreading the pre-come and yanking a sharp ah! out of Axton. That seemed to give Leander confidence, and he pumped up and down on Axton's dick firmly. By the time Leander settled into a rhythm, hot and strong, Axton was biting down on his lips to stop his throaty cries. His head whirled with how he needed to stop, this wasn't right, what if he hurt Leander somehow, what if he turned afterwards and bit, what if Leander kissed him and wanted him to bite, what would happen, what if Leander was going to regret this all in the morning, or worse, in five minutes after whenever they finished? Werewolves didn't trust humans that way. Axton was already an exile and a recluse; he didn't need to break more taboos. Through his worry he never lost his exquisite awareness of Leander's hand on him, grip tight now, strokes harder and faster than before. "You like that?" Leander breathed, voice rough and dialed down to sex. Somehow it still sounded like an actual question, though-- Axton let his legs fall open in answer, angling his hips up to give Leander better access. His brow was furrowed and he looked almost as if he was in pain, but Leander knew better than to stop. "Do you feel guilty, Axton?" he murmured suddenly. "You look guilty." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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