Page 37 of Fear of Flying
Zach stretched up to kiss him. “Here,” he said, shifting slowly and encouraging Drew onto his back. Then he straddled Drew, low at his waist. He moaned lightly at the sensation of Drew’s dick pressing up against his crease, hot and twitching.
This was it, it was happening. Zach’s heart stuttered in his chest before it took off at a full gallop again, and as Drew looked up at him, his expression reflecting everything Zach was feeling, Zach felt so grateful that all his firsts so far—and this one now—were with Drew.
As he reached off to his side to grab the small bottle of lube, his hands were trembling, his anticipation skating on the edge of nervousness and excitement. Drew smiled up at him, his hands slowly running up and down Zach’s thighs.
Zach squeezed a generous amount of lube into his hand, snapped the lid shut, and set it aside. As carefully as he could manage without dripping too much of the slippery liquid, he reached behind him and took Drew’s dick in his hand, spreading the lube with a few long, slow strokes.
The way Drew’s fingers pressed into his thighs and the way Drew’s breathing quickened with every stroke only made Zach more ready, more eager. Zach leaned forward, letting Drew’s rigid shaft slide against him as he pushed it, trying to find the right distance and angle. He grunted in frustration, but then felt Drew’s hands reach around behind him to help, and soon he was gasping at the sensation of the thick head of Drew’s shaft pressing against his entrance.
Zach sank back just slightly, gasping again and moaning as the tip of Drew’s dick pressed inside, the stretching sensation uncomfortable for a few long seconds. Drew watched him carefully, probably wanting to make sure he was okay, and after a few more deep breaths, he was.
“Ahhhhh, oh god, oh god,” Zach cried as he sank back even more, screwing his eyes shut and taking Drew’s dick in inch by inch.
“Oh god, baby . . . ohhhh.”
Drew’s hands were at Zach’s hips—a gentle touch, reassuring and not pressuring. Slowly, Zach took all of Drew in, his lover’s dick stretching him and making him feel so full in so many ways.
And after a moment, Zach reopened his eyes. His whole body was trembling with emotion—some intense feeling of belonging that made him sure his heart would burst. Zach leaned forward again, stealing an urgent kiss from Drew, and when he pulled back, he found Drew’s eyes shimmering.
As good as it felt, just being here like this—the sense of fullness and connection and a slight pressure against his prostate—Zach’s urge to move was getting stronger and stronger. Propping himself up on his arms and shifting a bit, Zach let Drew’s shaft slide out inch by inch. He stopped before it was out completely, and then he sank down slowly, his guttural moan of approval matching Drew’s.
He was still trembling, still overwhelmed, and he found that just rocking his hips lightly was enough to set off sparks in every nerve ending. Drew’s hands wandered, caressing over Zach’s chest, pausing to play with his hard, sensitive nipples, and then down to his waist, hips, and ass cheeks.
Zach was breathing hard, still rocking slowly, when Drew’s hips bucked up to meet him, a firm thrust that made Zach moan and cry for Drew to do it again. There was rocking and thrusting and shifting, and it was far less than elegant, but then after a minute or so, they managed to find a rhythm, their hips and movements working in perfect counterpoint.
And then Zach was kissing Drew again, needing to taste and feel his lips, their bodies pressed together as Drew continued pumping into him. He could feel his dick leaking, the fluid slick between them, and his orgasm continued to build, his muscles contracting and an intense warmth spreading throughout his body.
He opened his mouth to speak or moan or something to let Drew know how fucking amazing this felt, but only breathless pants and whimpers came out. Ahh god, this was already more powerful than anything he’d ever achieved by himself. Drew seemed to realize, and so he wrapped his arms around Zach, still thrusting his dick in and out, filling Zach’s tight passage. And then Drew’s lips were on his neck, brushing kisses between every whispered “I’ve got you.”
Waves of heat and light rolled over him, around him, through him, and for what seemed like forever, the blindingly intense pleasure was all he could feel, every part of his body on fire. He came back down slowly, the overwhelming pleasure from his orgasm fading into a tingling and weakness that somehow felt like the most amazing gift. And more than that, Drew was there, his arms wrapped tightly around Zach, murmuring words of reassurance and comfort against Zach’s skin as Zach trembled.
Never in his life had he felt more loved, more cherished, more complete than this moment right now in Drew’s arms. Finally, when their breathing had slowed, Zach brushed a kiss on Drew’s chest and then lifted his head to look at him. There were tears in Drew’s eyes, and a few had slipped out already and were trailing down the side of his face.
Drew gave him a watery grin and let out a huff of air. “That was perfect. You’re so perfect,” he said, his voice low and thready.
And Zach couldn’t agree more. “Ditto.”
Chapter Seventeen
Drew
Drew woke the next morning with a weight on his shoulder and draped across his abdomen, and it took a moment for the sleep to clear from his mind and the flood of memories from yesterday to replace it. He shifted slightly so he could look down at Zach, who was still sleeping soundly, curled up and wrapped around Drew. His face was so peaceful in sleep, no anxiety to be seen, and his features...
God, seeing his beautiful face first thing in the morning was indescribable. His heart squeezed hard, the feeling so profound that it was a bit hard to breathe. But it was more than a dream come true. He hadn’t ever allowed himself to have a dream like this—waking up in the arms of a man he loved and trusted, having made love the night before and having fallen asleep whispering sweet and silly nothings to each other.
He’d only ever let his mind wander to moments like this when he was watching TV or reading fanfic, when he could safely live out such fantasies. Waking up with his boyfriend in his arms, having breakfast in bed with his lover, or... going on a honeymoon with his husband. Not that—this was not that. But he couldn’t deny it was something he’d think about, something he loved to read about or watch play out on TV and then, on the rare occasion, let himself imagine his own place in the story.
This was different though. Because Zach was real and amazing and was really here, asleep in his arms. Drew really couldn’t have asked for a more perfect morning. Except, maybe... that it could be more than this, whatever this was. But the second his mind started down that path, he felt a rising panic that he didn’t want to deal with. He didn’t want to think about the what ifs. Not yet. He just wanted to stay in this happy, perfect bubble of theirs.
The thoughts kept threatening, and his heart only clenched again when he stared at Zach’s perfect face. He needed to get up. Do something. Something that would keep his mind occupied until Zach woke up. As gently as he could manage, he slid out from underneath Zach’s head and arm, disentangling their legs as well, and he pulled the covers up to keep Zach warm.
After using the bathroom and wrapping himself up in one of the two luxury robes the hotel had provided—standard with the Presidential Suite, he assumed—he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and padded out to the main living area, closing the door softly behind him. He scratched at the back of his neck and stared across the massive room.
Right. Coffee.
Coffee, and Janice at the front desk yesterday had said they’d comp breakfast as well. Drew smiled, the idea of a fancy, private brunch for two forming in his mind, complete with mimosas and fresh fruit, along with a selection of other fare. It sounded like the perfect morning to him.
Drew set about brewing himself a cup of coffee and ordering breakfast, and it wasn’t until he was settled at the dining table and checking his phone for the first time that morning that he realized it was almost 9 a.m. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past eight in the morning, and he smiled at how relaxed and rested he was feeling.