The crack in his voice was a mile wide. Angelo mauled his bottom lip with his teeth until Dylan rescued it with a swipe of his finger, then he shook his head. “I wish I could be what you need.”
Dylan sighed. “Youarewhat I need. Iloveyou. I just can’t set us up for a fall. Please say you understand?”
“I understand.”
With Angelo’s eyes still hazed by a cloud they’d never escape, Dylan couldn’t be sure it was true, but he’d run out of spoons to explain it. He kissed Angelo, slipping his tongue past that mutilated bottom lip, then pulled away with a hard-won resolve. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s grab breakfast and go back to bed.”
Three
“I need to get up.”
Dylan nipped Angelo’s neck. “Maybe I don’t want you to.”
“Cute.” Angelo let his head drop to the pillow and tried to lose himself in the sensation of Dylan’s lips claiming every part of his body they’d missed the first time round. “You won’t be saying that in an hour or so if you don’t let me wash all this mud, sweat, and jizz off me.”
Scowling, Dylan relented and let Angelo sit up. Then he stood and helped Angelo out of bed, his keen eyes zeroing in on the obvious tremor in Angelo’s legs. “Wow.”
“What?” Angelo snapped.
“Your legs. They weren’t doing that an hour ago.”
“So?”
“So... what’s doing that? Stress?”
“Probably. I wouldn’t want to eat me right now if I was a cannibal.”
Dylan opened the bathroom door and switched the shower on. “Is that supposed to make sense to me?”
“No, just don’t talk to Harry about stress hormones and factory farming. It’s precious time you’ll never get back.” Angelo fought the spasms threatening his quivering thigh muscles and won. He took Dylan’s outstretched hand and limped to the shower.
Hot water was magic. It pummelled his renegade body with heat and brought him back to life.
He leaned back on the tiles and gazed at Dylan through the steam. “Don’t you ever get bored with it?”
“Bored with what?”
“With the constant nannying I need to function.”
Dylan speared Angelo with a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you get fed up with chasing my ridiculous anxieties round in circles?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I love you and I don’t care about any of that. I just want you to be okay.”
“You want more than that—you want me to be happy, to feel loved and safe, even when life is hard, and I want that for you too, boo.” Dylan punctuated his words with the kind of kiss that could easily put Angelo back on his arse if he lost his tenuous grip on his balance.
He widened his stance. Despite already coming like a train that morning, his cock rose, and Dylan was on his knees before Angelo could blink.
With his slick tongue and pillowy lips, Dylan had always known how to pull Angelo away from everything except the sensation of tight, wet heat and grazing teeth. He swallowed Angelo down, sucking his cock and playing merciless games with his fingers. Angelo didn’t bottom much, but when Dylan teased his prostate like that? Yeah, he was down for just about anything.
Dylan pulled off Angelo’s dick and stood. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You want more?”