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Wilder didn’t answer, instead tracing the tips of his fingers around Luca’s mouth, around his jaw, his ear, down his neck. He leaned forward and took a breath, like he was trying to confirm he was real—just as Luca had done moments before. “You’re here.”
“I am.”
Wilder kissed him again, softer this time, just a press of lips, and he held it until Luca felt his body start to crave a soft, warm bed. “Come upstairs?”
There was no other answer but yes, as he locked his fingers with Wilder’s, opened the door, and left everything but them behind.
* * *
“Yes,” Wilder groaned, his face buried in the pillow. He had two more pillows under his hips, his legs spread, his hands gripping the sheets as Luca spread him wide and ate him like it was his last meal. It was tangy and full of musk and a little bit of lube, and he felt like he could do that for hours, but the tremor in Wilder’s body told him he was getting close.
Luca raked his nails up Wilder’s sides and felt his own spent dick twitch against the sheets as he leaned forward to take him in hand. It was harder with the pillows, but he knew it wasn’t going to take much. His fingers from his other hand sought the space behind his balls, his thumb rubbed in a slow circle as he grabbed Wilder’s hard, leaking dick and gave a single stroke. His tongue pushed into his hole and stayed there.
Wilder gave a violent shake, and a moan ripped from his throat. He fucked his hips against Luca once, then twice, and then he spilled in hot ropes against the pillowcases that would need to be washed. Luca didn’t care about that now—or ever, really. He’d happily toss them out and buy more every day to let Wilder cover them with his seed simply because Luca lived to make him come.
He pulled his face away, swiping his mouth on the back of his hand before kissing his way up Wilder’s spine. They both rolled off to the side, Wilder kicking the pillows off the edge of the bed before he snuggled back into the circle of Luca’s arms and breathed out, heavy and soft.
“Good?” Luca asked against his ear.
Wilder laughed. “Not even close to what it was. There are no words for what you do to my body.”
Luca grinned, feeling a sort of absurd pride rushing through him because he was able to give Wilder something no one else in the world could. It was just his—just theirs. He rolled Wilder onto his back, then kissed his neck, down his collarbone, down the length of him. He never paid special attention to the scars, but he never avoided them, either. He hated thinking about where they’d come from, but he knew they would always be a part of Wilder, and he wanted to treasure each and every piece of him that existed—because each of them were proof he survived.
“Can I ask you something?” Wilder murmured, and it startled Luca, who wasn’t expecting to hear him in their afterglow.
They hadn’t talked much since Wilder had come home. He was jet-lagged, and they traded lazy hand jobs, ordered Chinese, and then slept. Luca stayed on the next day, and Wilder gave him full access to the technical side of his business, and Luca knew he wasn’t imagining the relief on his face when he could focus just on the baking.
It was something Luca was good at—and better than that, it was something he was enjoying. Maybe not forever, maybe not even for long, but for now was enough.
They got through the day, then he let Dmitri take over that week for the Farmer’s Market prep and the stall, and Wilder was able to close up early. Luca cooked, and they watched TV, then Wilder had turned to him and lowered his voice. “I want you to eat my ass.”
Luca had nearly come right then, like a man who had never experienced dirty talk before. Then he scrambled to obey, and it was the most glorious hour he’d spent since arriving in Savannah.
Luca smiled and reached out, tracing a touch down Wilder’s cheek. “You can ask me anything.”
Wilder bit his lip like he was unsure, then took a fortifying breath. “Do you think you’re ever going to get tired of this?”
Luca blinked in surprise then propped up on his elbow and laid his hand in the center of Wilder’s chest. “Tired of what?”
“This,” Wilder said and waved his hand between them. “Fucking like this. Me having limits?”
“I don’t know,” Luca told him, and he saw the pain flicker in Wilder’s eyes, but also the appreciation for his truth. “I don’t think so. I think I might get tired of only fucking one way—but there are so many ways for me to love on your body without being inside of it that I doubt I’ll ever get bored.”
“You’re so cheesy,” Wilder groaned, but he grabbed at Luca and pulled him in for a kiss. “I don’t want to let him dictate what I can and can’t have,” he said after they broke apart. “And maybe someday it’ll be different, but…”
“Hey,” Luca interrupted, pressing another kiss to his lips. “It doesn’t need to be. This isn’t about your ex.” Luca ran his fingers around the pad of Wilder’s nipple and watched it peak, watched a flush rise on his neck. “It’s about you and what you need—and what you want. Being with you, however we’re together—it doesn’t feel limiting. Nothing about you has ever felt limiting.”
Wilder flushed a little deeper, and he ran his thumb over Luca’s bottom lip. “Thank you.”
He wanted to ask what for or maybe what he’d done to deserve a man like him, but Wilder deserved better than second guessing, so he kissed that thumb, and then he kissed his palm, and then all the way up his arm to his mouth. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Wilder closed his eyes and breathed out. “I love you too. I want to take you on another date.”
“Yes,” Luca said.
“Tomorrow.”
Luca grinned. “Yes.”
