Page 60 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“God, I can feel you,” Nolan said, a hint of wonder in his voice. Then his lips twitched. “Feels much bigger than it did in my hand. Keep going.”

Reid choked out a half-sob, half-laugh, hips swinging into Nolan again and again, just like he’d told him.

Nolan carded a hand through Reid’s hair, bringing him back down to his lips. Their breath skated across their cheeks, tongues twining, though Reid was finding it hard to focus as he neared the horizon.

It felt kind of like flying, being stuck in the clouds, knowing the other side was just through the fog of condensation, his wings working just like his hips were.

“Come on, come on, come for me,” Nolan chanted, voice smooth and silky, unlike the hand in his hair. He wrenched his fingers, strands tangling and sending a shock through Reid’s senses, lightning through the sky.

Fuck. In the closet, Reid had been worried about messing Nolan up, but Reid had never felt more of a mess than he did in this moment, the break in the clouds just out of reach.

Nolan lifted his head, nipped at Reid’s throat hard, and whispered, “Do you know how you look right now?”

Reid had just been thinking the same thing about Nolan earlier, and his chest went tight with the idea that Nolan might view him with even an ounce of the same awe Reid felt when he saw him.

“Desperate.” Nolan bit at his throat again, tugging his hair to arch his neck back more.

Reid’s breath was rough in his throat, his rhythm faltering as pleasure clapped like thunder. A moment of clarity.

“Crazed,” followed by a bite.

Leave a mark, please leave a mark.

“Fucking—I’m never gonna get you out of my head. Like this, the way you feel inside me.”

Reid whimpered, probably. He couldn’t tell, because suddenly he wasn’t flying anymore. He was falling. Crashing back through the clouds and fog and just waiting for the ground to come up and meet him.

“Reid,” Nolan whispered, and Reid snapped his eyes open—when had they closed?—and met the dark blue of his gaze. “Wanna feel you come, baby, come on.”

His voice, quiet and low and gentle, paired with another tug of his fist in Reid’s hair, finally sent him over the edge with a shout.

A crash through the clouds. Open air and white light and ecstasy. Reid spilled inside Nolan, his cock swelling, and Nolan groaned too. He held Reid poised there, head going limp in his hold, hips rolling forward in no rhythm whatsoever, twitching more than anything, as heat and almost, almost too much ravaged him.

“Holy shit,” Nolan whispered.

Reid’s head was resting on Nolan’s shoulder, which began to shake. With laughter, Reid realized, because it made Nolan tense around him, and he grumbled into his skin, damp with sweat.

“Don’t laugh,” Reid moaned.

“Sorry, sorry,” Nolan said, voice still quiet. “That was just… that was…”

“Yeah,” Reid answered eloquently. “Yeah.” Because saying it twice would surely get across all the thoughts he couldn’t voice, right? Reid chuckled, collapsing on top of Nolan, ignoring the mess between them. Another shower would be in order.

“It’s not always… like that, is it? Or is it because you’re… that’s rude, isn’t it?” Nolan suddenly cut off, swallowing sharply, cheeks glowing red when Reid lifted his head to look.

“Are you asking me if that was so good because I have a weird dick?”

“Well, I — no, I mean, maybe, but—”

Lifting his head, he stared down at Nolan, searching his gaze, studying the bow of his lips and the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“No.” His voice got stuck in his throat. “It’s not always like that.”

It was crazy. Falling in love felt kind of like flying, too.

That damning thought was followed shortly by another: Fuck.

After his cock deflated—which was a humiliating way to describe it—they showered again. The waterfall shower head was certainly worth it.