My Best Friends Brother

Chapter 90

I just can't stop kissing him.

It's been a week and my body has the undying need to retrieve every kiss I've lost over the last seven days from his body.

He's mine. Every fucking inch of him, everything he has and everything he is, it's what I want. I fucking want him.

His lips are so tender from my consistent ambushes that as I pull his bottom one between my teeth I can feel the resulting shudder catapult itself throughout his body. My hands hold firm against his hips, keeping him pinned to the door even when I feel his desire to shift the dynamic of power between us both.

With mercy, I release his lip, but only to move mine to the corner of his mouth before bringing it down across his neck. I love the way the apple prominently bobs at the front of his throat when I reach the point where it connects to his shoulder. Here is his weakness. Slipping my hands under his shirt, I let them take in every curve and crevice of his immensely toned body before hooking them into the fabric and quickly raising it above his head.

My lips immediately connect back with his body as the block between us becomes discarded somewhere on my floor. I might have become lost in him completely if I hadn't opened my eyes and realised the skin beneath my lips resembled a deep purple rather than his usual pale caramel tan.

"Fuck..." I didn't realise how fucking bad his injury actually was, it's still like this after a week? I'm gonna kill fucking Jayce. "That's... Fuck, are you okay?"

It takes him a moment to realise I'm not putting my lips back on him, at which point he let's his closed eyes spring open before launching his hands out to grip my top and ripping me back into him.

"I was fucking fine until you stopped... Come here." He tries to reinitiate our lips into their wanting connection but I can feel the anger radiating all over my body at the site of what was done to him.

He needs to be more careful... We can't...

Pushing lightly on his chest with my palms, he falls back against the wood, smirking slightly when I raise my brows enough he knows I'm not letting anything happen without a proper answer. Rolling his eyes, he finally gives in.

"It's fine, it's more tense than it is painful. Look." He takes two fingers and presses them against his shoulder, the bruise momentarily disappearing beneath the pressure before he releases again. "See? I'm absolutely fine, unless you're planning on doing some acrobatic shit with me, I'm good."

I know he's kidding, but there's definitely a part of me that's scared I'm going to hurt him. Although I bet he's seriously fucking flexible...

Slowly running my fingertips from his wrist up his arm, I let them lightly stroke over the deep maroon injury. He doesn't so much as flinch, even as I apply slightly more pressure it only seems to increase his relaxation.

I know what he needs.

Taking the tense muscle that connects his shoulder to his neck, I pinch it between my fingers before slowly kneading through the joint. Almost instantly his eyes full shut and his head lands back against the door.

"Fuck, that feels good." He moans the words without ever intending to, this man has no true understanding of what his voice can do to me.

Using my other hand to hold his jaw and stretch his neck to the side, I let my thumb work its way into the tension he's let build in this thing. He should've let me get my hands on him earlier. Each guttural reaction of satisfaction makes its way from deep within his chest, spurting through his lips like a melody of pure euphoria.

His neck is too fucking tempting. Finding a spot in his shoulder that just makes him suck in air through his tightly clenched lips, I bring my mouth down to leave wide open kisses along his throbbing artery, trying not to let myself fall too deeply into him when his moans grow more desperate.

There is no better sound on this fucking planet than the ones he makes when I touch him like this.

By the time my tongue reaches his ear, my hands into the tension riding throughout his biceps, he's practically melting into the door. I try to talk clearly, but the air is so thick in here it gets caught in my throat and my voice comes out as the huskiest of whispers.

"Lay down on the bed Miles..."

There's no argument from him, letting me lead him completely until the sheets are pulled back and I'm looking down on the glowing moon amongst the radiating stars of my bed. He looks so fucking good there, can't I just keep him in this fucking bed forever?

He rests with his back firmly against the mattress, the relaxation I've allowed to flow through his body removing him of all his desire to move from this spot, but it's not where I need him.

"Flip."

There's a tiny moment of hesitation, but it's quickly it lost when I crawl onto the bed and take hold of his body, forcing him onto his stomach and allowing me to admire the definition in his back - Not to mention the definition in what sits at the bottom of it. I could take a fucking bite out of that peach.

Opening my bedside drawer, I pull out the oil that I use after going a bit hard in the gym. The scent of mint chocolate fills the room, Al got me these different chocolate scented massage oils as a bit of a joke present at Christmas, I don't think she considered for one minute that this is the person I'd be using them on.

Taking enough of it in my hands that I know it'll cover his entire glorious body, I swiftly swing my leg over his hips and let myself sit on the base of his spine before rolling my palm's up the length of his back.

"Fuck Josh..."

If he doesn't want me to rip these shorts off and do unspeakable things to that ass then he'd better stop saying my fucking name like that.

He's seriously tense, every muscle below my fingertips in desperate need of release. I'm sure a lot of this tension was built through the way his body has had to compensate for his injury, but I also can't help but feel guilt that a portion must be contributed to the weight I've forced him to carry over this week.

I'll make it worth it.

His skin is unknowingly smooth, every glide of my hand along at is like sliding through the softest butter. His tension seems to dissipate at my mere touch, allowing me to dig deeper until he's sinking into the mattress below me.

He starts to squirm slightly, gentle rotations in his hips that I thought initially were caused by pain but I'm quickly coming to realise are his attempts to relieve the building pressure in a very different part of his body.

Oh this is really getting to him.. Good.

Sweeping up over his shoulders again, my thumbs work in unison to roll out the condensed energy in his neck. The gentle moans that have been showering off his tongue since we started become deeper with every movement that I make in this spot.

He really needs to stop grinding up against me, my dick is sitting right on his ass and the things going through my head right now are making my hands want to wander very far from his fucking back.

His body was cool to the touch when I started but now everything is scorching hot. I work each muscle in turn, leaving his shoulders to recover between sessions and moving on to other parts of him. It wouldn't hurt to explore just a little bit more right...

My hands reach the base of his back, my thumbs slipping under the waistband of his shorts and stroking the tops of his cheeks, but he doesn't make any moves that imply he wants me to stop.

Can I just...? I really fucking want to... Fuck it.

Taking hold of his shorts and boxers, I slip them over the curve of his ass, revealing his perfectly plump cheeks to me as they sit between my thighs. You could bounce a fucking quarter off this thing.

Adding more oil to my hands, I start at the sides nearest to his hips before working my way down and in. He's fucking faultless, every dip and line is carved to perfection, like he was an angel sitting in a block of marble just waiting for his sculpture to be revealed under the chisel of a master craftsman.

Taking the heel of my hands, I knead them into the firm muscles and watch as his body reacts instantly. Fuck, he loves this, look at the way his hands are clutching at my fucking sheets.

He's clearly sensitive here, the rippling tides of pleasure that are drowning his body are becoming more and more obvious with each touch. I don't want to push him too far, but I do want to know his reaction to a possibility, so I grasp his cheeks, letting my fingers sit in the creases at the bottom whilst my thumbs run up just inside of his slit.

Most guys would fucking tense, try to wriggle free or at least act like they don't fucking love it, but not him. From the way he's reacting I could probably go further here, but I won't, it's just good to fucking know that he's not adverse to everything I'm willing to show him.

Oil is still thick and heavy on his back, allowing me to move up into his shoulders with ease, the loose muscles now mouldable and bowing to the pressure I give them.

Leaning down to his shoulder, I let my lips travel along the darkened skin in an effort to release the pain within him. If I could take it for myself and bear it in his wake, I would.

"Do you want me to do the front?" I whisper when my lips reach his ear.

"Josh, you could do whatever the fuck you want with me right now."

Do not fucking tempt me...

Sitting up on my knees, he turns so that I'm straddling his hips with him looking up on me, the minted oil from his back smothering the bed but I couldn't care less. A cloud of relief floats at the front of his eyes as he takes in a deep breath, one I bet he hasn't been able to take for a while with that much tension in his body. I will do that every night if it makes him this comfortable.

His shorts are still riding low in the back, the front leaving little to the imagination as I watch his solid tool strain against the fabric that is barely covering it. Oh yeah, he really fucking enjoyed that.

My shirt is almost torn from my body as he grips it in his fist and yanks me down on to him sharply, I thought he was about to steal my breath with another deep kiss but instead he just leaves the most delicate one upon them before wrapping his arms completely around my body and holding me to him.

Is he okay? Fuck, did I hurt him?

His whole body is clearly crying out for more of me but it appears his mind is in a very different place.

"Miles..?"

"I really fucking thought...  I thought I'd lost you..." His heart is beating so fast right now, my ear sitting directly over where it pumps, hammering against his ribs like a battering ram trying to break its way through. I did hurt him, just not with my hands.

"You could never fucking lose me Miles... Even when I kept telling myself to walk away, it wouldn't have changed what we are. Everything of mine still would have been yours." Sometimes I wish I could rip out my heart and show him how much of it he already fucking owns.

"I know..." He confirms whilst kissing the top of my head. "I just...  I know I fucked up, I didn't fucking blame you when you didn't come meet me that night, but I had every fucking awful thought imaginable about where else you could be sitting there in the rain waiting. It was kind of impossible not to believe that somebody better was just going to come along and make you realise how fucking perfect you are, someone that wouldn't do to you what I did, someone that you'd see something in that you can't see in me and they'd be able to take you away."

Fuck.

He has to know, I have to fucking tell him.

Even if it means him leaving this bed tonight and me not having him in my arms, lying is not the way I want us to start this...  relationship.

Please forgive me.