Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 111

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 111

A flash of memory: being seventeen and doing this for the first time in his life in almost the
same position with the same person. Back then, Nick had been sweaty and fumbling, eager and
breathless, endlessly grateful that he was with Eli for this and no one else.
It was nothing like that now. It was better.
Nick lifted his head from where he’d buried it in the crook of Eli’s neck and took Eli’s face in his
hands. He wanted to make sure they could see each other; that seemed important. “I’m glad it’s
you,” he said, still rolling his hips. “I’m glad you’re here with me now.”
Eli’s smile broke across his face like dawn. No pretension, no jokes, for once. He slid his hands
along the planes of Nick’s back, slick with sweat. “No place I’d rather be,” he said.
Nick groaned as his cock slipped into the humid crease of Eli’s thigh. He was actually going to
get off rutting like some teenager. He couldn’t even be embarrassed about it; it was, after all,
one of their greatest hits. Eli craned his neck up and kissed him through it, letting him stutter
and shake and whimper as he came.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said between nips of Nick’s lips. “You’re so good. Fuck, Nick.”

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Nick had left a sticky mess between their stomachs, and he swiped his fingertips through it.
Some old instinct urged him through his post-orgasmic daze; that was the only explanation for
this level of motor control, which was to say, any. He reached down and rubbed at Eli’s hard
little cock, using his own come to ease the way.
Eli’s eyes flew wide at that, his hips lifting in a bid to get more. “Oh,” he said under his breath.
“Oh—god.”
“Yeah?” Nick couldn’t help but smile down at him. He’d always liked it when Eli went from
talking a mile a minute to forgetting every word he knew.
Eli’s hands scrabbled at Nick’s wrist, guiding him. “Right there, right—” His limbs trembled and
his eyes shut tight. Nick soaked in the picture he made, greedy for it. The last time, he wasn’t
able to see much, being on his knees. Like
this, he could drink in every twitch, every bitten-off groan, every jumping muscle. Damn, he was
gorgeous.