In the bed Dante lies on his side, Ryan
beside him, their legs spooned together. With his back on the
mattress, Ryan faces Dante and they can’t seem to keep their lips
apart. To Dante it’s almost as if he’s drowning and Ryan’s kisses
breathe life-giving air into him, he can’t get enough of them, he
doesn’t want to stop. “My turn,” he whispers, reaching for the
front of Ryan’s jeans, tented beneath an erection he wants to take
care of.
But Ryan’s hands stop his. “Just this right
now,” he sighs into Dante’s mouth with another kiss, and another,
and a dozen more until it’s just their lips pressing together.
This time when Dante’s hand strays for
Ryan’s crotch, he meets no resistance and his fingers ease the
zipper down, push the denim out of the way, unsnap his boxers and
slip i
