Chapter 501 - 502: I Love You.

Chapter 501: Chapter 502: I Love You.

Moaning as he works his way up Loac’s throat, Khobi works his pants open, breath shuddering as he palms his cock in his hand like it’s their first night together all over again. And once he reaches his lips again he leans in to seal their mouths together; tongue diving in to taste the ale on his breath and coax a gasp from the depths of his chest. Loac’s fingers find his hair and curl tight; clutching at him so that he can kiss him deep and passionate. Panting, Khobi draws back just enough to lock eyes with him, and a thrill of anticipation fills him --as fresh and exciting as the first time he felt it on his spine --as he feels the familiar storm closing in, calling to him; welcoming him into its depths.

Lying there on his back, Loac looks unfairly delicious; eyes hooded but deep and dark and thrilling for their depth and their darkness. Khobi wants to fall right into them; to reach into the abyss and feel the unknown within reach back and drag him down. But he knows a little of what lies in there now, doesn’t he?

And gods he wants it with every fibre of his being. Has wanted it ever since that first night. A different night, a different tavern, but the same desire; just as raw, just as wild, just as consuming.

"Fuck, you’re so hot," Khobi whispers hoarsely. It’s very possibly the first time he’s ever said it aloud. An instant later he remembers why when Loac leans back and tucks his hands behind his head, smirking.

He fucking knows it .

"I want you," Loac growls, voice rich with hunger and lust laid bare as he grabs his ass in both hands and grinds; filthy and deep. Khobi’s hips twitch and sway, letting Loac’s fingers trail where he wants him as he looks him in the eye; inviting him in.

"Have me, then."

Needing no further invitation, Loac flips their positions and gives Khobi’s pants a yank to leave him laid bare before him; the desire in his eyes and in the way he takes his body in his hands as bare and as fresh and exciting as it had been the first time he’d kissed him. All these nights they’ve been together like this the scorching hunger in Loac’s eyes has never waned, like Khobi is a meal he could gorge himself on all night, every night for the rest of his life and still never have had his fill of him.

But by the gods he’ll try.

There’s a jar conveniently waiting for them in the nightstand, and Khobi reaches up for the headboard behind him for something to cling to while Loac spreads his legs for him and sets about fucking him open with his fingers until his ass is loose and pliant and ready for more. The wood splinters in Khobi’s grasp as he arches off the bed, legs splayed wide for Loac to admire the way his entire body twitches for him; craving him when he withdraws and then expertly swallowing his fingers all the way to the knuckle when he grants him relief and pushes them deep. There were nights where Khobi swallowed down his voice for fear of being heard, but no longer.

He doesn’t care if they know.

Loac makes him feel good, and he doesn’t have the presence of mind to care who hears it.

"Trent --" Already, Loac’s given name falls so easily from his lips, and Khobi twists with need; hips writhing to eagerly take his fingers deeper to show him how ready he is to take everything Loac has to offer him. How much he needs to have him inside him, and now, before the heat pounding in his gut and behind his eyes combusts and he burns too hot too soon. Thankfully, Loac gets the message, and Khobi’s only left wanting for the time it takes for him to get on his knees and get a better hold on the bruised wood of the headboard before the heavy tip of Loac’s cock --heavy and hot and thick with want --is nudging up against the rim of his ass.

Maybe he was a little too impatient, because it takes a little straining on Loac’s part to sink through and in, but Khobi’s partial to the light burn that comes with the penetration, especially when he’s this turned on. These days it doesn’t really take much to get him going when it comes to Loac; a teasing kiss against his collar or his fingers casually grazing between his legs is usually enough to do it, especially when they haven’t had much opportunity to indulge in each other, and this whole evening has been filled with such sweet torments. He’d been hard before the door closed behind them.

A ragged sigh --more groan than anything --leaves Khobi’s lungs as Loac drapes over him from behind and fills him in one, smooth, breathtaking thrust. If there was any wind left in him the sudden stretch would have stolen it, but as it is there’s simply none left and Khobi chokes as Loac’s cock drives in deep. It’s already been too long since the last time and the urgent, heady way Loac’s hips beat up against his ass gives away just how he’s been longing for it too. The angle is perfect right from the first inch and Khobi throws back his head and lets his voice fly as the drag of his cock inside him applies all the right pressure in all the right places.

Groaning into his spine, Loac wraps both arms around his body to hold him steady while he fucks him from behind, and with his chest heaving like there’s fire in his lungs trying to set the world ablaze, Khobi fists a handful of his hair to tether him to the moment .

So choked up with pleasure as he is, Loac’s given name falls off his lips again on a whisper; breathless and reverent. The gasp has Loac’s arms winding possessively around his body; one braced around his belly, the other across his chest, holding him so impossibly close that to any unseen onlookers they would appear not as two bodies but as one. Loac’s chest held flush to Khobi’s back, one body, one skin, one racing heartbeat as Loac’s hips grind against his ass; kicking threads of lightning up the length of Khobi’s spine and fan out and eternal through his entire body.

Leaving it to Loac to keep them balanced, one of Khobi’s hands hooks under his thigh; dragging him in, holding him near. Needing him near. It’s not enough, it’s never enough. He wants Loac buried in him so deep he’ll never know the feeling of being without him.

Silhouettes cast against the expansive night sky they move together, the desperate, yearning thrust of Loac’s hips growing barely perceptible but for the blinding, spine-tingling pressure they leave against his favourite spot inside him. The desperation for release rising to fever pitch, Khobi’s jaw falls slack, sweat coursing down his cheeks, catching on his chin; pleasure building from within and all around, tightening with Loac’s every minute shift. He wants to grind, wants to hear the heavy slap of Loac’s hips against his ass; the slick sounds of his cock in motion. But he can’t, not like this. Like this all he hears is Loac panting against his neck, and his own breath coming just as heavy, just as fast, just as ragged.

Even the bed lies silent, quivering beneath their knees like it’s straining with them. And still the pleasure rises; building like the tempest they create together, and with sparks dancing across his skin wherever they’re joined, Khobi completely gives over to it. Savours it. Relishes it. Revels in the shape of the man he loves curled around him, and the racing of his pulse on his skin and buried deep inside him as he fucks him.

As he makes love to him.

And then –

" Khobi ."

A low howl leaves Khobi’s throat; one of agony and release as Loac’s devilish voice wraps it’s tongue around the syllables of his given name and whispers them right through his skin and into his soul.

" Say my name," Loac whispers, demands, begs ; voice husky and the kind of sinful that would have Khobi doing whatever he asked. He grinds again –deep and perfect –and Khobi’s head drops back against his shoulder with a gasp.

"... Trent."

Loac shudders, something Khobi feels with his whole body, from his shoulders, and his chest, all the way to where Loac’s inside him.

"Again."

Khobi chokes out another gasp, but complies, hearing the desperation starting to creep in.

" – Trent."

" Louder ," comes the ragged demand, and Khobi keens into the night, eyes closed and jaw slack as thick beads of precum swell upon the tip of his aching cock and drip down his length; the spot inside him throbbing where Loac’s cock nudges against it, the heavy pressure bringing him one drop closer to overflowing.

Loac’s teeth worry against the skin of his throat, holding him impossibly close as if to burn his touch into Khobi’s skin, so that he can never be with another like this without thinking of him. So close that when his chest heaves, so does Khobi’s, and when his heart races and his thighs start to quake, so too do Khobi’s.

One body, one heartbeat, one heart.

" My name , Khobi."

" Trent –!" This time the name Khobi gasps voice tears and pitches as it rises into the night; not some solemn whisper meant for the ears of the gods alone, no, this is a cry of rapture –a cry of salvation. Loac answers in kind; a guttural, ragged moan leaving his chest and filling Khobi’s, and his eyes fly open from the force of Loac’s hips jutting forward; up and in and so deep he could swear he feels him in his chest. And now the bed shakes and them with it; Loac’s hand working up Khobi’s slick cock and his gasps filling Khobi’s ears as they move together. And through the swirling haze of pleasure clouding his mind, he’s suddenly overcome by the yearning to have Loac’s eyes on him.

He tilts his head, just so, and just like that, their eyes lock; electric blue on sparking red, and Khobi’s breath catches in his throat as Loac leans in to kiss him so ravenously it’s like he wants this to be the kiss he remembers forever. Against his skin Khobi can feel his entire body strung taut; his hips straining to bury himself deep, the corded sinew of his arms clutching at his chest as if he might be torn from him at any moment, his lips aching to find their way back to his. And when they do he latches on like a man possessed; kissing him and kissing him, over and over until Khobi’s head is spinning and the pleasure sparking, raging , running rampant through his body is rising up in his chest threatening to consume him completely.

And oh, how Khobi wants to be consumed.

You’re mine , it feels like.

But also, I’m yours.

Spread wide to welcome him deep, Khobi’s legs are shaking now; his entire body on the brink of cataclysm as the pressure within him builds fit to bursting. Loac’s lips leave his just far enough to let him choke in a breath –how he wishes he didn’t have to –but more importantly, to let him speak one last time.

" Trent ."

This time it comes out as little more than a whisper. It feels like the only word he’s capable of saying any more; the first drop of rain after a long summer. Long awaited, precious. And as Khobi reaches his peak, Loac’s nose ghosts against his own; his eyes drinking in his profile like this is a moment he wants to sear into his mind. And there’s something there in that particular shade of blue that coaxes three more words to form on Khobi’s tongue; spilling forth less like a prayer and more like an oath.

" I love you ."

With a hoarse gasp, Loac’s grip on him tightens, and with a final, heavy thrust, he locks himself in place.

In the resulting moment of absolute, perfect stillness, they walk that narrow precipice together; the calm on the brink of ecstasy. And then, in an instant, they tumble over together in a flash not of white, but brilliant, incandescent blue.