Brandt’s cheeks were scratchy, but his lips were soft and warm, welcoming him with a sigh like Brandt had been holding his breath, waiting for him to make a move. And he sure was enthusiastic in kissing back, active but not overbearing. The kiss felt like they were dancing, with Brandt content to let Shane lead, even as he put his own style on each move.
He tasted sweet, like falling into a steaming cup of cocoa on a frigid day, and his hands were warm and strong as he pulled Shane closer, cover falling to the floor. Shane could spend the rest of his life caught up in this kiss, absorbing each of Brandt’s rumbly groans, dying a little when Brandt sucked on his tongue, and fluttering away on surging energy with each pass of their lips.
Shane’s knees dug into the rug, and his aching cock brushed against couch, but still all he could do was kiss Brandt over and over. Lips and tongue and teeth and grasping, needy hands.
“C’mere.” Brandt tugged on his shoulders, trying to pull him onto the couch. And Shane was powerless to do anything other than give Brandt what they both needed.
Chapter Eleven
“C’mere,” Brandt repeated. The angle was shit for hauling Shane up to the couch, but luckily, Shane didn’t make him ask a third time. Rising up, he let Brandt tug him right back down, this time onto the couch. Onto him.
“Oof.” Brandt made a noise that wasn’t quite human as he urged Shane to settle on top of him. It was like his body had had a missing Shane-shaped piece for days now, and the second Shane stretched out over him, everything clicked back into place, world that much brighter and clearer.
“Good?” Shane balanced one arm above Brandt, keeping some of his weight off. Brandt wasn’t having any of that though, and pulled him the rest of the way down, until they were as pressed together as two people could get.
“Fuck, yes.” Brandt stretched up for another kiss, but Shane wasn’t quite as pliant as before, and his back was tense under Brandt’s hand.
“Think we might break the couch?”
“Fuck the couch.” Couches were replaceable. This moment wasn’t. He wasn’t kidding himself that this was anything other than another ill-advised collision for them, but hell if he wasn’t going to make the most of something this good while he had it. “Kiss me.”
And Shane did, with humbling tenderness and care. Even his tongue was deliberate, each sweep seemingly calculated to drive Brandt out of his head, reduce him to nothing other than this aching need. His body surged, arching up against Shane, who was right there, pressing him back down. Felt so good that he had do it again, more purposefully this time, rocking against Shane simply to feel that solid weight against him. It was a rush, like the heady yet reassuring sensation every jump when the parachute deployed and yanked him back. Felt like an unspoken conversation. Yes. Yes, I’ve got you. Yes, it’s safe to let go and enjoy the ride. I’ve got you.
Shane ground down hard enough to have Brandt groaning before pulling back slightly. “Is this—”
“Good. So good,” Brandt answered before Shane could get the question out, shifting his legs so that their cocks more directly aligned. That got a soft moan from Shane, too.
“Yeah it is.” Good. Brandt didn’t want to be the only one unraveling here, and Shane getting more into the grinding while kissing thing was next level good, the way their bodies learned to move together as they kissed and kissed.
Breathing hard, Shane skated his lips across Brandt’s jaw, lighting up nerve endings until his tongue teased Brandt’s earlobe. And that was electric enough to have him shivering, but nothing compared to the way Shane’s mouth on his neck produced full body shudders.
“Fuck. Do that again.” He tilted his head to expose more of his neck for Shane.
“Don’t wanna leave a mark—”
Brandt made a frustrated sound. “Fuck that noise. My hair can cover. Mark away.”
“Yeah?” Shane raked his teeth against Brandt’s skin, a slow torture followed by the heat of his mouth. He repeated the gesture, firmer now, openmouthed kiss that sent shockwaves down Brandt’s torso and made his cock throb. “You like that? Me biting you?”
“Uh huh. And how.” Brandt leaned even more into the contact, shameless preening to get more of that delicious attention. It was entirely possible he might get off from simply Shane’s mouth on his neck and his denim-covered cock rocking against Brandt’s. And then Shane went and upped the ante, big hand sliding up Brandt’s side, thumb scraping against his nipple.
“And this?” Shane’s voice was all husky now. Intimate. His voice was always sexy, but Brandt wanted to hear him like this always, like each word was for Brandt and Brandt alone.
“Gonna kill me.” He wasn’t lying. Either he was going to come gangbusters or he was going to die right here on this couch, but man, what a way to go. He wasn’t complaining.
“Good. ’Cause you’re killing me too.” Shane smirked down at him an instant before his mouth reclaimed Brandt’s and drove the last of the sense from his brain.
“Fuck yeah.” Shifting again, he opened his legs more, hooking the outside one around Shane, pulling him even closer, more friction, more weight, more of this pressure so good he almost couldn’t stand it. Shane must have felt similar because he moaned and the motion of his hips sped up.
“Damn. The way you amp me up. It’s been a minute...”
“Yeah. Me too.” He didn’t care if Shane didn’t believe him. It had. Longer than that since he’d felt this out of control, this needy, and yet this free to let go. He used his leg and hands to urge Shane faster and harder.
“Oh, hell. That’s...”
“Right.” And it was. So right. So perfect. Every kiss, every thrust of Shane against him. Then Shane shifted, more pressure against Brandt’s aching cock, and perfect redefined itself again. “Move like that again.”
Shane groaned, low and lusty. “If I keep this up, I’m gonna...”
Oh yeah. No better feeling than knowing Shane was as kiss-drunk as him and maybe even more on edge. “Do it.”
“Yeah?” Shane nibbled Brandt’s neck again, seemingly determined to take Brandt with him. The cotton of his shirt dragged against Brandt’s bare torso, making him shudder.
Brandt stretched, getting Shane’s mouth on the sensitive spot where his neck and shoulder met. “Want it. You so riled up...love it.”
“Mmm. Sure as fuck am worked up.” Shane punctuated his words with a hard suck against Brandt’s super-heated skin. He’d wear his hair down for a week if it meant more of the delicious contrast of Shane’s hot, soft mouth and his raspy stubble.