Secret

“Come for me, Dylan,” Tristan cried out and thrust into him one last time. Heat swirled in his spine, coursing swiftly through his veins, and his balls drew up.

“Yes!” Dylan’s ass clamped down on his cock, his orgasm crashing over Tristan in mind-numbing waves of pleasure. His dick jerked, filling the condom with seed as he came hard in Dylan’s clenching ass.

Tristan fell forward, his weight resting on Dylan just as his knees gave way. A groan and one last shudder was all the protest his body could manage when his cock softened and slipped out of Dylan’s heat. They were both breathless and gasping for air when he rolled them to their sides.

“It’s in my hand,” Dylan finally managed to get out as he greedily sucked in air. He held his hand out, trying to keep his palm off the bed as he fell back on Tristan. Every nerve ending in his body was on high alert, his heart threatened to break through his rib cage, his breathing sounded more like wheezing, and he’d loved every single minute. Seconds later, minutes, or maybe even hours—he didn’t know, he’d lost all sense of time—Tristan finally made a noise and started moving under him.

“Hmmm, what did you just say?”

“It’s in my hand.” He was careful how he held his hand, but his hold was becoming harder to maintain when all he wanted to do was sleep.

“What does that mean?” Tristan stopped moving from underneath him.

“My load. I shot it in my hand.”

“What?” Dylan had no idea what he’d said that was so confusing. Instead of resaying the words, he waited for Tristan to figure things out for himself. Enough time passed and Tristan finally responded.

“Seriously? You caught it?” Tristan chuckled.

Tristan gently pulled out from underneath him, reached for the towel, and cleaned his hand. Dylan just lay there, spread across the bed, his eyes closed. He felt Tristan moving around him as he slowly centered back into himself.

What an incredible experience. He wouldn’t ever be the same again and that thought gripped his heart. How could he ever go back to the way things had been? Now that he’d had a taste, he wanted more. He craved the closeness and caring they had just shared. And he wanted it all with this very man.

Dammit to hell, he was so screwed.

Warm lips brushed across his, and he cracked his eyelids open.

“I didn’t manage to close the top and the lube leaked all over the sheets, now the room smells like sex on a beach,” Tristan laughed, holding the bottle in his hand.

“I don’t think I can move,” Dylan mumbled, keeping his eyes on the handsome man.

“Was it too much?” Tristan asked, worry now showing on his face.

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Dylan said, closing his eyes. Since their sex had been life-altering and everything he wanted was bent over him right now, yeah, he guessed it had been too much.

“You need a hot bath. It’ll help in the morning. I’ll change the sheets,” Tristan said, his voice trailing off as he walked away. Dylan heard the bathwater filling the tub, but he didn’t move, he just lay there. He actually didn’t want this moment to end. There had been no horrendous pain, at least not like he’d built up in his mind. What Tristan had done to him was definitely something he wanted more of in the future.

The assumption he was a top seemed laughable now. He’d do that every day if possible. He never would have thought he’d have done anything like this. It must have been the Jäger. Dylan judged his drunkenness on a scale of one to ten and came up with nothing. He didn’t feel drunk and that made him smile. These were true, sober feelings after all.

“Come, you can smile like that in the bath,” Tristan called out from the bathroom door. He heard water splashing so he rolled over and forced himself to sit up on the side of the bed. Tristan had used enough of that tropical-smelling massage oil on him that he left his body’s imprint on the sheet. Tristan had taken time with him tonight. He’d made this moment special and perfect. Something to embrace. Dylan ignored the fear of those thoughts and walked to the bathroom.

He needed to put this entire night in its place. The memories of Tristan and the care he took would stay with him forever. No matter how things turned out for him, he’d always have this evening to fall back on.

“I’m too oily. Let me shower first.” Dylan bypassed Tristan who was already lying back in the oversized tub.

“No, come here. Let me wash you,” Tristan said, extending a hand. “Come on…the oils are all natural anyway. I’ll wash you in here.” Dylan got a good look at the marble bathtub that Tristan lay stretched out in.

“Damn, I haven’t ever seen anything like that.” Dylan went for the tub. He stepped inside and turned to face Tristan. Not understanding where Tristan wanted him, he tried to sit at the opposite end of the tub, but Tristan stopped him.

“Sit here.” Tristan guided Dylan back between his thighs. “Lie against my chest. Let me hold you.” Dylan turned around and scooted back into position. “How are you feeling?” Tristan asked, sounding concerned when he’d settled back against him.

“I’m good. Honestly, tonight’s been amazing. You were incredible.”

“Incredible, huh?” Tristan laughed then poured scrub onto a rag and began to wash him.

“Yeah, I could get used to all of this,” Dylan joked.

“I’m afraid I can too,” Tristan mumbled softly from behind him, placing a simple kiss close to Dylan’s ear.

Dylan hadn’t missed the strange tone of Tristan’s voice. He cocked his head, turning back to get a better look. “Why afraid?”

“I don’t know. There’s something different about you, Dylan. Something I can’t put my finger on, but I feel differently when I’m with you. It doesn’t make a lot of sense when I say it out loud.” Tristan sighed and gave him a small smile. “I know you have a family and you’re very set in your plans where they’re concerned and I respect that. I’m just afraid of being left wanting more with you.”