Melk

You lean in the doorway and watch Rafael in the early morning light. He is asleep on his stomach, one arm wrapped around the pillow, finally completely relaxed after almost a week of vacation. The sheets ride low on his hips, miles of bare skin on display, turned golden and glowing from days in the Italian sun. You follow the lines of his back with your eyes and bite your lip. All that naked skin is calling you back to bed, tempting you, daring you to touch. Who were you to ignore it?

You slide back into the sheets beside him, still warm from your shared body heat, and smooth a hand up his side, enjoying the feel of him under your hands. He shifts in his sleep in response, motion causing the sheets to fall further and your heart rate picks up at the sight of him, sleep-warm and naked. You press against him, hand sliding down to the curve of his ass, and drop a soft kiss on his shoulder.

He grunts at being woken, reaching back to capture your wandering hands in his and weaving your fingers together to hold you still, burrowing his face further into the pillows. “‘M on vacation,” he murmurs.

You chuckle softly in response and press another kiss to his shoulder. “Feliz cumple, guapo.”

He grunts again, but when he turns his head you catch the hint of a smile on his face as he tilts his chin to ask for a kiss. You oblige, brushing your lips over his. When you pull back, the smile is bigger.

“Where did you disappear to?” His voice is still rough with sleep as he rolls over underneath you and you watch the play of muscle under his skin as he yawns and rubs a hand over his chest. The sheets have completely fallen away with the movement, and you can’t help reaching out to run your fingers over the newly exposed skin of his midsection and down to the tops of his thighs.

“Letting room service in.” You lean in to lay a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Have to keep the birthday boy fed.”

He hums, lips curling into a hint of a smile, and reaches up to tangle his fingers in your hair, gently tugging you back down to him. You go easily, lips just brushing as he murmurs, “Breakfast can wait. There’s something else I want first.”

The kiss is soft, unhurried. You bring a hand up to cup his face, thumb stroking the stubble on his jaw and he opens for you easily, tongue curling against yours with a sigh. His fingers trace nonsense patterns on your skin and you settle more completely against him, seeking out more of his skin against yours.

He’s unguarded and open, still half asleep, body responsive to your touch as you lightly run your nails down his side, making him shiver and exhale. He curves around you, legs shifting, tangling, drawing you as close as he can. He takes your mouth again, deep and languid, kisses dripping like warm honey, sweet and slow.

You bring one leg up and over his hips to pull him even closer, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair and tug gently just so you can see how it makes his eyes flutter shut and hear him moan. He runs his hands down your back, slipping under your nightgown in response, stroking your thighs, the curve of your ass, touch firm, but with no obvious objective. You shift to roll your hips against his, feeling him growing hard underneath you.

Normally you’d tease him, make him beg you for it, but the magic of him in the early morning light and how sweet he is for you in that moment has you unable to deny him anything. You slip a hand in between your bodies, taking him in hand with easy strokes. His breath catches and he groans softly against your mouth, hands flexing and fingers grasping at your waist. He rocks his hips into your grip for a moment before breaking the kiss and shifting so he can lean down and litter kisses across your collarbone, scraping his teeth when you grip him harder on the upstroke, working the head of his cock with your thumb. He mouths at your breasts, teasing one nipple with teeth and tongue before moving to the next. His hands wander down, sliding around the curve of your hip to your inner thighs, stroking the skin there. You tug his face back up to yours, kissing him with increased heat as his fingers slip higher, teasing at your outer lips before dipping inside. He groans softly at how wet you are, gathering it up with two fingers and spreading it, using it to slick his way as he starts to circle your clit slowly. You gasp into his mouth as the motion stokes the embers glowing under your skin.

“Raf,” you breathe against his lips and he nips at your bottom one while sliding a finger into you, ignoring your entreaty. “Rafael.”

He slides a second finger in with the first and curls them. You moan and grasp his bicep with your free hand, hips rolling as he works you slowly with his fingers.

“Want you,” you whisper against his lips. “Please, want to feel you.” You rub your thumb over the head of his cock and he moans, eyes slipping shut again, and he nods.

He slides his fingers out to grip the thigh over his hip and you use your hold on his cock to angle it and line it up with your entrance.

“All yours,” he promises as he slides in slowly, both of you moaning at the hot, slick press of him. He’s thick, capable of splitting you open, knowing how to keep you on that edge of pleasure-pain. But this morning he’s all rounded edges and slow build. More interested in the feel of you under his hands and how your breath catches when he flexes his hips against you, instead of making you scream.

You stay like that for a moment, completely intertwined, breathing against his mouth, lips brushing, drinking kisses from him. His skin is warm under your hands, and you can feel the play of his muscles under his skin when he starts to move. He sets a gentle pace, hips rolling, hands wandering and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth, sharing breath. You’re overwhelmed in a way that is unexpected, warmth and affection welling up in your chest, filling you and making it hard to breathe. It's both all too much, and not enough, and you’re scraping your nails across his shoulders, weaving your fingers into his hair to hold him against you, never wanting to let go.

“Love you,” you breathe into his mouth and he moans softly, hips jerking as he pulls you closer to run his lips along your jaw. “Love you so much, fuck. You feel so good, you’re gorgeous, you know that?” He huffs a surprised laugh, breath ghosting warm over your neck and you shiver and arch into him. “The sun does amazing things to you. God I could look at you naked and sun-kissed forever.”

He shifts his hips as you run your mouth and pulls you down harder on his cock, hitting that place deep inside that makes your breath catch and desperation start to build. The slow, sleepy pace you had set was no longer enough. You needed more, you needed all of him.

You roll your hips harder against him and lean up to take his mouth again, nipping at his lips, and pushing him onto his back. The shift has him groaning and arching under you as it drives his cock deeper into your heat, his fingers digging into your thighs. You’re loath to sit back and ride him, too much distance between you. Instead, you smooth your hands up his chest, leaning up to press your skin to his, running your lips over his jaw and kissing him, swallowing his soft moans every time you roll your hips and take him deep. He reaches for you, hands coming from your hips to find yours, fingers tangling. You press your intertwined hands to the pillow and use the leverage to rock into him with more intent, starting to chase your orgasms in earnest.

He’s moaning underneath you now, arching up as you work your hips, eyes hazy with pleasure. He draws his knees up, planting his feet to thrust back against you. Your head drops to bury in the crook of his neck, groaning as the additional force makes your heart beat faster and your toes curl. You’re both warm, skin damp from exertion, muscles flexing, gasping as you move against each other.

Orgasm, when it takes you, rolls through you like a wave, swell rising until it crests and crashes, leaving you shuddering against him and grinding down on his cock. You’re clenching down around him in a way that has him gasping, hands clutching at you haphazardly, fingers skittering across your shoulders, down your back, grasping your ass to work your through your peak.

It sweeps through you, slow and intense, and you cling to him, unable to move for long seconds, overwhelmed by pleasure and the scent of his skin.

When you come back to yourself, you blink open your eyes to see him, jaw working, head thrown back, as he struggles to hold back, to let you come down. You roll your hips slowly and he whines, hands tightening on your hips. “So good for me,” you murmur, words slurred, still drunk on him, and you duck to mouth wetly at his throat, scraping your teeth over where his pulse beats under his skin. He licks his lips, breath coming in short pants, as he starts to rock his hips into yours again.

“Come on, let go,” you encourage, reaching up to stroke your fingers through his hair, damp and curling at the temples, sweat turning the silver to a dark steel. “So good, Raf. Let me make it good for you.”

He slowly picks up the pace as you encourage him, clenching down on him with each thrust, shivery with overstimulation.

“Come for me, Raf,” you whisper, pleading. “I want to see you fall apart for me. Let me get you there.”

He gasps, eyes clenched shut, fingers flexing, clutching at you as you start to ride him in earnest now, swiveling your hips, driving him towards his peak.

“Please,” he murmurs, eyes blinking open slowly, gaze hazy as it meets yours. “Kiss me? Need you, need to feel you, please.” And who were you to deny such a sweet request.

You lean up to lick into his mouth, swallowing his noises as you take him deep, and he goes rigid under you, moaning long and low, throat working as he comes. You kiss him through it, his hips jerking into you as he fills you, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise and you’re groaning into his mouth, his desperation sending aftershocks of pleasure through you.

It lasts for long seconds, his hips still rocking into yours as he starts to come down, shuddering against you. You’re running your hands through his hair, pressing kisses to his jaw, the hollow of his throat, soothing him as his breath starts to slow, deep and even. He shifts his hips slightly, moaning quietly as his softening cock slips out. You feel the trickle of cum that follows and he’s pressed against you, damp and sticky. You know you should probably get up and get cleaned up, and breakfast is getting cold in the other room, but you’re loath to move, limbs heavy and warm, content in the afterglow.

He seems to agree, arms coming up around you to pull you ever closer, pressing his lips to your temple and tracing his fingers across your shoulders and down your back, in no hurry to move. You’re kissing his shoulder, his chest, any skin you can reach without pulling away.

He hums, wrapping a leg around yours to keep you there and breathing in the scent of your hair. “Not a bad way to get older,” he murmurs after a minute, and you huff a laugh, stroking your fingers along his sides.

“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.” Your fingers dip lower to play along the lines of his hips and he jerks, shivering as you scrape your nails over sensitive skin. His groan tapers off into a laugh and he captures your wandering hand in his, weaving your fingers together.

“You’re insatiable.”

You settle more comfortably against him, curving into his side and letting your eyes slip shut. “Mmm that’s entirely your fault, sleeping naked, lying here like some bronzed god.”

He laughs in earnest at that and brings your intertwined fingers to his lips, brushing a kiss across them before tucking them to his side. “Except this god is solidly middle aged and needs time to recuperate before he can go again. Nap now, then breakfast. Then we'll see about unwrapping this gift a second time.”

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