Promises

“Not that way,” he said. He pushed me onto my back and then lay down on top of me. “I want something for both of us this time.” He kissed me. It started out tender. His tongue touched mine, and then he sucked at my bottom lip. But it quickly grew more urgent, hungrier. One of his hands went into my hair, and he pulled hard, angling my head back so that he could get to my neck. I ran my hands over his body— first the soft yet prickly stubble of his military short hair, then his strong shoulders and arms, down his back, and around to his stomach, which was perfect, hard and ridged with muscle. My fingers found that tantalizing trail of hairs leading down from his navel. I couldn’t stay away from it.

He was still on my neck, licking, kissing, and biting a little. His other hand was roaming over my stomach, down my thigh, then between my legs. His fingers felt everywhere, alternately stroking me and exploring until I thought one more touch might be enough to send me over the edge. I could feel his erection grinding hard against my leg.

I reached into the drawer of the bedside table and found the lube. He stopped kissing my neck and looked worried as he watched me apply some to my rim.

“I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly.

“You don’t want to?” I said it as casually as I could. I didn’t want to push him.

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. But will that be for both of us?”

I realized what he was asking—would I actually enjoy it too?—and kissed him. “Yes. Trust me.”

He relaxed again and went back to my neck, and I was surprised to feel his fingers moving down on my body, past my perineum, gently exploring the area. His fingers starting moving in soft circles around my rim, and I wrapped my arms around him and arched into him, moaning. I heard him say softly in surprise, “Oh,” in my ear. Then he whispered, “Tell me what to do.”

I had never really been one for giving orders in bed, but I managed to say, “Harder.”

The pressure increased, and it felt great, but I really wanted more. I pushed against his hand, wanting to feel his fingers inside me. “More, Matt, please,” I whispered. But I felt him tense a little at that, and he shook his head and his hand moved away. Apparently I had found the end of his current comfort zone.

“I don’t want to push you,” I said to him. “Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know!” I was surprised by how frustrated he sounded, but there was a hint of laughter in his voice too. “I want you! Jesus, Jared, I’ve never been so turned on in my life, but I just have no idea what to do. I feel like I’m in high school all over again.” He grinned down at me. “At least there’s no stick shift in the way.” I laughed at that.

He kissed me, slowly running his tongue over the roof of my mouth and then over my lips, and then he whispered in my ear, “Jared, tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”

I knew exactly what I wanted, but I didn’t want to freak him out. “You can say no.” I hated to sound like a damn porno, but he had asked, right? “I really just want you to fuck me.”

He groaned when I said that. His hands tightened on me, and he nodded.

I pushed him up, took the pillow from behind my head and put it under my hips, and maneuvered myself into position, still on my back. He was watching me, stroking himself slowly, and he definitely didn’t look like he was bothered by the idea. He put on the condom I handed him without comment. But when I started to push against him, trying to initiate penetration, he hesitated.

“Will I hurt you?” he asked, and I was moved by how much concern I saw in his eyes.

“No. Just go slow at first.” That seemed like the right thing to say, but I didn’t really expect him to be able to hold back once he started. I was right.

As soon as my body closed around the head of his shaft, his eyes closed, and I felt him shudder. With a groan low in his chest, he pushed the rest of the way in, not hard enough to hurt exactly, but I was glad it wasn’t my first time. Then he froze and seemed to be holding his breath as he said, “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” It felt wonderful, actually. I was already arching into him, amazed at how well we seemed to fit together. I realized how close I was to coming already.

“Oh my God, that feels incredible,” he said. He was holding perfectly still yet trembling with the effort of it.

“For me too. Jesus, Matt, I need you to move. I can’t hang on much longer.”

“If I move an inch, I’m going to come.”

“I think that’s the point.”

He smiled a little at that and opened his eyes to look down at me. Still, he didn’t budge. I took one of his hands, moved it between us to my cock, and pushed against him.

That deep purring sound started again in his chest, and he finally relaxed against me and started stroking me off with his hand as he started to thrust. Not deep thrusts, just barely rocking against me, slow and gentle. That exhilarating friction and his strong, rough hand working on me—it was amazing. I reached up and grabbed the headboard with both hands so I could push back and then closed my eyes and let myself get lost in the sensation. It only took a few strokes for me. As soon as my muscles clenched around him, he grabbed me and slammed in hard one last time with a cry that was as much surprise as anything else.

For a minute he stayed there, still inside me, feeling my body spasm around him.

Then he pulled out and dropped down on top of me, wrapped both arms tight around me, and became dead weight. For just a fraction of a heartbeat, I thought he had fainted, but then I realized I could hear him whispering, “Oh God. Jared. Wow. Jesus.” An endless string of breathless words whispered into my hair.

I turned my chin, kissed his ear and then managed to gasp out, “You’re heavy. I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry.”

I pushed hard, and he rolled lazily off of me and lay spread-eagle on his back.

“Wow.”

I was laughing as I got up and made my way on wobbly legs to the bathroom. I cleaned up and brought the towel back in to him. He still hadn’t moved. He looked astounded, blinking at the ceiling. I started wiping him off.

“Can we do that again?” He sounded so earnest that I had to laugh.

“What, already?”

“God, no. I mean, once I can move again.”

“When do you think that will be?”

“Maybe by Monday.”

I laughed and lay down on my back next to him but with my head on his shoulder.

“I’ll give you ’til morning.”

“I didn’t realize it would feel so different.”

“Does it? I wouldn’t know.”

“It was….” He was obviously struggling for a word but settled on, “Intense.”

“‘Intense’ in a good way?”

“In a very good way.”

I laughed again. “I’m glad you approve.”

“And it’s good—? I mean, when, um. You know, the other…?”

“Are you asking me if it really is good to be on the receiving end?”

“Yes.” Obviously relieved that he didn’t have to elaborate more.

“It can be, yes. It was just now.” I shivered a little, remembering. “Are you worried about it?”

“A little. Well.” He laughed nervously. “More than a little, to be honest. But I trust you.”

“There’s no hurry.” But now the rational side of my brain was starting to make noise again. “Matt, are you sure this is what you want?”

“Why are you asking that now? Isn’t it what you want?” He sounded mostly amused but also a tiny bit exasperated.

“You know it is.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

So I told him about my conversation with Chief White. But when I was done, he just shrugged. I couldn’t see it, but felt his shoulder move under my head.

“You’re not worried? A few days ago, you didn’t want them to know.”

“I know. But I realized something. They all assume we’re lovers anyway—that’s what they’ve thought for