42. Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Two

Beck

I can hardly believe we’re here again. Roman beneath me, his naked body stretched out under mine, his brown hair splayed out across my pillows, his eyes hazy with lust, but still focused on me. He wants this. I want this. I can do this.

Ignoring the tremor in my hands, I lean forward, pressing kisses into the skin of his throat. He lets out a breathy moan, and my cock aches at the sound. I want to do this the right way—the way I used to. Words are building in my head, but none of them are passing through my lips. I want to say them. But it’s like there’s a block in my mind, and I can’t get them out.

I sit back on my heels and stare down at him. This used to be as easy as breathing for me. Why is it still so hard? He’s stunning, and I want to tell him so. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My hand moves on its own, running from his throat to his chest, then down his stomach. I watch in fascination as his muscles contract under my touch, his cock bobbing in the air.

You’re gorgeous. Look at how you’re reacting to me. The words echo in my head, but I can’t say them. Frustration builds, but I try to shake it off. I have to make this good for him. I have to. It feels like our first time again, only I think I’m more nervous now than I was back then.

I dip my fingers lower, tracing his hipbones with a feather-light touch, trying my best to get out of my own head and enjoy this, to make sure he’s enjoying it.

I glance up at him to find him staring at me, his head raised off the pillow, the haze of desire cleared from his eyes, and panic creeps in. “What’s wrong?” I ask softly.

He shakes his head and drops it back to the pillow, his eyes falling shut, closing me off from whatever emotions might be there. The shaking in my hands worsens and I will them to stop. I have to relax. I know how to do this, dammit. I can do this.

I force my fingers to resume their gentle touching, but it feels… not wrong, just unnatural. This used to be second nature to me, and now it isn’t. Oh fuck. I’m broken. Panic surges through my chest, but I shove it down, trying desperately to calm the fuck down. This is Roman , my love, my fucking everything. I can do this.

I’m not broken.

I’m not.

His body stiffens, and I watch helplessly as his cock slowly softens against his stomach. My heart drops, fear choking me. I’m not making this good for him. I don’t know how anymore. I gasp, and my lungs burn. Fuck, I don’t think I was even breathing. I drag in another breath, my eyes darting to Roman’s face. He’s already looking at me, and the disappointment in his eyes feels like a physical blow .

I’ve failed. I ruined it. I’m broken, I knew it. I knew I couldn’t make this good for him. I knew I couldn’t be the person I used to be. This will never work. I’ve ruined everything.

Roman sits up, and I panic. I want to beg him not to leave, to promise that I can do better, that I can make him feel good. But the words, like all the others I want to say, get stuck in my throat. I’m not sure I can. I broke myself. I don’t know how to do this. I can’t—

Roman captures my mouth in a kiss, cutting off my mental spiral. Before I can even blink, I’m on my back, Roman stretched out on top of me, our legs tangled together, his lips moving fervently over mine. A groan works its way up my throat and breaks free, my cock swelling against the warmth of his body.

Oh shit, I didn’t realize I wasn’t hard before.

After what feels like hours of mindless kissing, Roman pulls back, staring down into my eyes. Lust flickers in his gaze again as he watches me. Indecision briefly flashes in his eyes, then his lips tilt up in a smile. “What’s wrong, baby? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so worked up.”

“I…” The words die on my lips, but he waits, his brown eyes soft and patient. “I don’t know how to do this,” I finally admit, barely above a whisper.

Confusion crosses his face. “You don’t know how to do what? Have sex? I think you do.” He chuckles, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t.

It frustrates me more.

“This,” I growl, frustration coursing through my veins. “I don’t know how to make this good for you. I don’t want to disappoint you. It’s harder than I thought it would be. Hell, I couldn’t even keep your dick hard.” Embarrassment rushes through me, hot and uncomfortable, and I try to shove him away so I can escape. So I can run from my failure. But he’s having none of it. He drops his full weight onto me, pinning me to the mattress.

When my adrenaline eases and I relax, he lifts his upper body off mine just enough to look into my eyes. “Beck, I’m going to say this slowly for you, okay? This is only good for me, if you’re enjoying it, too.”

I blink at him, confused. I was enjoying it. He was the one who wasn’t. I open my mouth to argue, but he sees it coming because he cuts me off with a sharp shake of his head and a glare. “No, you were not enjoying yourself. You were having a panic attack.” His tone is gentle, but firm.

“I was not,” I deny, indignation burning in my stomach.

He laughs, but it lacks humor. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have confused your entire body shaking, you being frozen in place for five minutes, and hyperventilating with something else.”

I blink at him. Five minutes? I know I was in my own head, but five minutes of nothing? I don’t really know what to say, so I stay silent.

After a few moments of him studying me, he sighs. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes. But, I… I’m scared. I want to make you feel good. I want it to be like it used to be. What if I don’t live up to your memories?” I ask, speaking the crux of my fear out loud.

He nuzzles my nose, his silence making my heart race, but then he speaks up. “It’ll never be like it used to be.”

Before I can let my fear take hold, he brushes his lips over mine, and I can feel the ghost of a smile there. “We aren’t the people we used to be. And thank God for that. I’m not in love with eighteen-year-old Beck. Sure, the memory of him kept me going all these years, but that’s not what this is now. I’m in love with you . You, exactly as you are. Not the person you think you have to be, not the eighteen-year-old you once were. You’re trying to make this what it was ten years ago, but it’s not that. It can’t be.”

“I want it to be,” I whisper. “What if you don’t want me anymore when it’s not like that anymore?”

“Beck, did you not hear a word I just said?” He rises up to look into my eyes. “ You. ” He presses his lips to mine. “ Are. ” He drops kisses along my jaw. “ Enough ,” he whispers, sucking gently at my throat. A harsh moan escapes me, and I arch against him. “Let’s make new memories. Do you trust me?”

I realize with blinding clarity that I do. I so fucking do. “Yes,” I choke out. “Yes, I trust you.”

“Perfect,” he all but purrs. “You just lie back and let me take care of you, then.”

I’m not sure what he means by that, but I told him I trust him, and I do. So I relax into the bed, letting him do whatever he wants.

“I think we need to let go of our past, baby. It’s getting in our heads. We’re not those people anymore. This is new, but it’s perfect. Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here, in this bed with you,” he whispers. “ Our bed,” he corrects as he works his way down my body, kissing and caressing every inch of my exposed skin.

Goosebumps rise, and I shiver, as much from his words as his touch. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin along my hipbones as he settles between my spread legs. I bite off a choked cry, shocked at how intensely my body reacts to his touch. I swear I’m continually surprised that I can still feel this way. After so many years of not, I figured it was over for me.

A groan rises in my chest when he sucks my cock into his mouth. I try to shove it down, but he looks up at me, pulling slowly off my cock—his tongue tracing a path as he does. “Stop trying to hold your reactions back, baby. Let me hear you.”

I nod, reaching down to grip his hair in my hands as he takes me back into his mouth. My body is trembling, but not from fear. I whimper as he bobs up and down on my cock, drawing sounds out of me I didn’t even know I could make. My head lolls to the side, tingles racing up my spine.

“Feels good. Fuck. Oh fuck,” I practically sob. My words sound distorted to my own ears. Truthfully, I don’t even know if they’re coherent. All I know is that I need him to keep going. Roman moans around my cock, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body, and my dick pulses against his warm tongue as pre-cum spills out.

He pulls off me and nuzzles my balls before taking one into his mouth. My back arches, heat shooting through my body as his tongue presses against it while he sucks lightly. I’m blind with pleasure, my hips rocking up, my wet cock bobbing in the air, desperate for something— anything . He releases my ball, pushes my legs back, and licks a path down my taint, sucking on the sensitive skin.

I hear myself moaning his name, but I feel disconnected from my body—not in a bad way—more like the feelings are so intense that I’m having an out-of-body experience. The first swipe of his tongue over my hole makes me damn near levitate off the bed. I moan loudly, and heat flushes through my entire body, my cock flexing and pre-cum leaking onto my stomach. He lets out a self-satisfied chuckle against the sensitive skin. I grip his hair tightly, rocking my hips down against his face, all inhibitions gone. I need to come.

Fuck, I need to come.

I don’t realize I’ve spoken the words out loud until Roman laughs. “I’ll make you come, baby. Don’t worry.” I should be embarrassed—I’ve never been this undone. Not even by him. Usually, I’m the one in control, the one leading. Not this time.

“Please, please, please,” I moan, my head shaking back and forth against the pillow as he sucks and licks at my hole, his fingers digging into my thighs. Pulling back, he lets my thigh fall to the side before tapping at my entrance with his fingertip.

“Can I?” he asks. I nod quickly. Fuck, he can do anything he wants as long as he makes me come. He grabs the lube I set out earlier. Once his fingers are slick, he brings one to my hole, gently pressing until it pops in. I gasp, already trying to rock my hips down to get more of him inside me.

He dips his head again, working his finger in and out of me as his tongue continues its exploring. When I’m relaxed around him, he adds a second. I can feel him searching for something, and then his fingers are pressing against my prostate, tapping and rubbing. My hips jerk, my cock pulsing, and suddenly, I want him inside me more than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life. “I want you inside me, Roman. Please.”

He pauses. “I am inside you.”

I shake my head back and forth against the pillow, almost delirious with need. “No. You. Your dick. Please.”

His eyes find mine. “Are you sure?”

I nod. Fuck , I want this. He pulls his fingers free of my body, adds more lube, and pushes them back inside me, swirling them around and stretching me. I squeeze my eyes closed, heat pooling low in my stomach. If he doesn’t hurry, I’m going to come, so I tell him as much. He chuckles, but instead of rushing things, he adds a third finger.

When he’s ready, he pulls his fingers free. I’m empty. So fucking empty . He adjusts, then the head of his cock is nudging my hole. “Look at me, Beck. I want your eyes on mine.” I open my eyes to find him looking down at me. “Still yes?”

“Yes.” The word comes out on a breathy moan, but I can’t do any better than that right now.

He pushes forward, and my eyes start to slip closed. He stops. “Eyes open, Beck.” I force them open again, getting lost in the intensity of his stare as he works himself into my body. By the time he’s fully inside, stretching me, I’m shaking. My entire body is on fire, pleasure radiating from my core and ricocheting through my limbs. His hips undulate, slow and deliberate, and my eyes flutter closed again. This time he doesn’t tell me to open them.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers as he drops on top of me and buries his face in my throat. The slide of his stomach over my cock makes me see stars and I moan.

This is so much. Too much and yet not enough. “This is so good. Is this what you felt like?” If this is how he felt when we were together, I don’t know how I’ll ever live up to it again.

“I don’t know,” he chokes out, his voice ragged. “What do you feel like?”

“Like… perfection. Like the world begins and ends with this. Like I’ll never get enough.”

He lets out a groan, his hips faltering for a second before he regains his rhythm. “Yes. Like that, exactly like that. Always. No matter what we’re doing or how we’re together. It’s always just like that.”

Tears fill my eyes, but they aren’t sad tears. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him on. His cock brushes my prostate with each move of his hips, sending electric jolts through my body with each thrust. “I love you, Roman,” I choke out through my tears. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

He groans, and I can feel his cock jerking inside me. The sensation of it pulsing against my prostate, combined with the friction of his stomach rubbing over my cock head, sends me spiraling. My body tenses, my toes curling in the air as my warm cum fills the space between us. Pleasure surges through every nerve, my body vibrating as moans spill from my throat. My head goes fuzzy, vision dimming, and a sob rips through my chest. I’ve never felt anything this intense in my entire life. He collapses against me, still buried in my body.

We lie together in silence, our breathing ragged. “I love you too,” Roman finally says after a few moments. “You’re everything to me.”

I tangle my fingers in his sweaty hair, letting myself enjoy the complete relief. For the first time in years, I had sex that didn’t leave me feeling empty or hating myself. Nothing with him could ever make me feel that way. And nothing I do to him could make him feel that way, either. “I think I get it now.”

“Get what, baby?”

“That nothing we do together could ever be disappointing to you.”

He hums softly, and when he speaks, I can hear the smile in his voice. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say. Being with you? That’s the best part. The rest is semantics, Beck. Loving you, touching you, holding you, kissing you—that’s the dream. The how and what doesn’t matter, as long as it’s with you.”

“I was worried,” I whisper, wincing slightly as his softening cock slips out of me.

He presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “I could tell. Nothing to be worried about, though.”

I nod, relief flooding every inch of my body. We had sex, and it was good. Perfect . I don’t hate myself. I don’t feel bad. I don’t want to scrub my skin raw. I just want to lie here, basking in the love of the man I shared it with. A light, bubbly feeling settles in my chest, and before I can stop it, I’m laughing.

Roman brushes his nose along my neck. “What’s so funny?”

“I honestly can’t believe we’ve never done that before. I was missing out.”

He grins down at me—the twinkle in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek making my heart thrum faster. “I’ll do that to you anytime,” he says with a wink. “You just say the word.”

He rolls off me and I chase after him, resting my head against his chest. I lift my hand up, my fingers automatically finding the tattoo over his heart. I trace it blindly with my fingers. “I like this,” I whisper.

“Yeah?”

I lift up and stare down at it. “Yeah. At first, I didn’t. But now? I love it. I never thought I’d see this again. I worked so hard on it, you know? And then I destroyed it. Like a damn moron.”

Roman tsks. “No, Beck. Not like a moron at all.”

Agree to disagree. “Anyway, it makes me happy that you have it. It’s like a sweet little nod to young us. This and the rabbit are the only things we have left from that time in our lives.”

Roman studies me. “That’s not entirely true. We have each other. And all our memories.”

I sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. It just makes me happy that not everything is lost. That we both have walked around for the last ten years with tangible, real proof of our love and our life together back then.”

His lips curl into a soft smile. “Yeah, that’s true. I like that.”

I press my lips to his and settle back against him just as my alarm goes off.