Crush

Want

Oliver

Asher's skin was so soft.

I ran my hands under his shirt, along his back, feeling him shiver. Our lips were moulded together, like they should always be. His tongue licked across my lips, asking for permission. Permission I would always be willing to give.

Opening my mouth, I felt his tongue slide inside, over my own, exploring my mouth. Like it had done so many times over this past week.

It was hard to believe it had only been a week since we confessed to each other, admitted how we felt, shared our secret.

Just one week.

And it had been one hell of a week.

Just earlier this evening, I was convinced we were over before we really got started. Staring down at the photo of him and Sofia, looking like the perfect high school couple. Footballer and cheerleader.

It hurt to look at that photo.

But that was earlier.

And this was now.

Right now, Asher had me pinned beneath him on my bed, squeezing me in his strong arms, trapping me in a heated kiss.

Bliss.

I felt his lips move from my mouth to my jaw and down my throat, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I felt him lick my Adam's apple, then he licked a stripe across my collarbone.

Fuck.

That felt good.

My cock throbbed and I wrapped my legs around his waist, grinding myself against him. In return, he rubbed himself against me, his own bulge pressing down hard.

Running my hands down his sides, I heard him moan in appreciation as I moved my hands across his chest, down his stomach and dipped in between each of his abs.

Absolutely perfect.

Asher broke off the kiss, lifted his head and gazed down at me. The lust was shining in his eyes. His lips were full and swollen. His breathing was heavy.

Shit.

Lifting himself up onto his knees, he raised his arms and shook his shirt off to reveal that perfect body of his.

I couldn't ... take my eyes off of him. The orange glow from the bedside lamp cast light and shadows across his flawless dark skin, showing off the detail of muscles on his arms, across his chest, down his stomach.

He was ... perfection.

Smirking, he lowered himself back down over me, capturing my lips in another breathtaking kiss.

Realising he'd taken his shirt off for my benefit, I scraped my nails along his back, earning a groan from him.

Bucking his hips against me, I returned the favour, making sure to rub our cocks together. There was just the flimsy material of the pyjamas and my boxers between me and Asher's jeans and the sensation was just so .....

I moaned.

I needed him.

Now.

As if sensing my urge, Asher lifted himself up again, only to reach down, grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. Tossing it on the floor, he took in my physique. My own muscles weren't as big as his, but my stomach was well-defined, my chest toned, biceps always on show.

I tucked my arms under my head and watched him with hooded eyes as he ran a hand gently from my throat down my chest, teasing my abs, circling my belly button. His green eyes were dark with hunger as they followed his hand moving lower and lower on my torso. His hand trailed down to reach the top of my pants. He hooked a finger under the waistband, ran it across my stomach.