Limerence (Famous Young Things): Chapter 15

This isn’t happening. It can’t be. Nico Savini has his body pressed against me, his lips on mine, and his tongue in my mouth, and like that all wasn’t terrible enough, I’m fucking hard.

I’m rock fucking hard. And wait, so is he.

His hand tightens around my neck, holding my head there while he ravages my mouth in deep slow kisses that, God help me, make my knees tremble.

There’s some desperate low whine coming from somewhere, and I’m terrified it’s fucking me. Slowly, like he doesn’t want to let go, he separates our mouths, drops his hand from my neck, and takes a single step back. He stares at me, panting hard as though he’s just finished a routine, and says, “What do you see now?”

I can’t think past the hardness in my trousers and the taste of him in my mouth in order to process that. Then I remember: That’s what you see when you look at me, Felix?

What do I see now?

I see a man who wants me. I see a man who just kissed me like it was his last second on Earth. I see Nico Savini looking like he wants to fuck me long and deep into the fucking night. There’s a terrifying look on his face, adoring and extremely fond, that I won’t even lean in the general direction of, let alone think about. Before I can second guess it, I reach out and clutch a fistful of his shirt and pull him back into me. He’s on me as desperately as he was before, and this time I match that ferocity. The shock is gone now, there’s only want and desire, and more of both than I can ever consciously remember having for anyone before, though I’m certain I must have.

This thing between us, this raw, sharp-edged thing, has been transformed by a single fucking kiss. Pure fire and lust, and if I don’t get to have him now, I’m going to combust.

“Felix…” he says against my mouth. I’m not sure if he’s asking for something or stating a fact but he’s never said it like that before, low and desperate and needy. It lights me up. His hands are everywhere all at once; on my face and in my hair and on my arse, and his cock—hot and hard, too—is pressed urgently against mine.

It’s him who pulls back again, but when he does, I realise he’s holding my hand. The rain is battering down around us, but I can barely hear it over the sound of my own breath. He’s asking a question with his eyes, and I answer it with a nod.

Then we’re running. He’s holding my hand and we’re running like two fucking idiots in the rain to God knows where.

What feels like a few minutes later, we’re at the doorway of a building and Nico is pulling me into him again, kissing me. I let him. Melting into it like it’s all I need in the world. He stops, fumbles with his keys, and leads me inside the building and up a lit, carpeted stairway. He opens a door and pulls me inside, kicking it closed before shoving me against it to kiss me again. He’s still holding my hand, he hadn’t let it go once while we ran. Like he was scared I might wander off, but now he does. Now he lets it go to hold my head instead, both thumbs grazing my cheeks as he continues to turn me inside out with kisses.

It’s surreal. It’s the most bizarre thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s Nico. Savini. It’s… fucking wonderful. He sucks gently at the skin of my neck while I make pathetic whimpering noises and push my dick into him. He noses at the spot below my ear and goosebumps erupt over my entire body, precum pulsing out of my dick. I groan.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” I ask the universe.

Nico answers, “I’m kissing you.”

“Why?”

He chuckles at this and it’s like melted toffee—slow and delicious. Has he always sounded like that?

“Because I want to.” Another kiss.

“Since when do you want to kiss me?”

He kisses up my throat to my chin, to my mouth, and licks over my upper lip.

“Do you ever stop talking?” he asks, smiling.

At this, I reach forward for the buckle of his belt and yank hard.

“There’s one way to shut me up, yeah.”

He takes my hands in his and, instead, tugs me down the hallway and into his bedroom. Then he’s kissing me again like he literally cannot stop. It’s fucking with my head a little because it feels so bloody good. So natural. Like all this time this is what we should have been doing instead of fighting. Kissing: our mouths on each other like this. Tangled up and tumbling.

I move us to the bed where it starts with me on top, licking and sucking my way down his neck to his chest, damp from rain. Carefully, I peel away the buttons of his dark shirt to get at his nipples. Light caramel and fully out. I suck and lick at them which seems to drive him crazy as he switches between watching me fixedly and closing his eyes in pleasure and whispering my name. When I try to move down his body toward his dick, he grabs my wrists and flips us over so that I’m beneath him. He grinds his hips into me while I writhe in pleasure, twisting with desperation. Nico pins me, my hands above my head, and watches me in need.

If he keeps doing this, I’m going to come. Barely touched and fully clothed, and I will not survive that sort of embarrassment; not in front of him.

When I struggle a little to free myself, he tightens his hold on my wrists.

“Stay still,” he orders, still grinding.

“It’s really fucking…” I groan as my eyes roll back.

“What?”

“…Good,” I manage.

He chuckles again and then squeezes my wrists and lets go. I’m about to sit up when he says again, “Stay still,” and moves down my body so that he’s level with my embarrassingly hard dick.

I have to sit on my hands as Nico Savini begins to peel me out of my trousers like he’s unwrapping a very special gift. He pulls them down my thighs and off, and I can only marvel at the sight of him there, face level with my dick, and a look of extreme contentment in his eyes. He sniffs before closing his mouth over the fabric of my briefs and sucking the head of my dick through it.

“Fucking hell,” I gasp as pleasure races up to my balls.

“So sensitive,” he remarks. “Could have guessed that.”

“You have to understand how fucking bizarre this is, surely? This is…” I let out a deep moan as he does it again. “Shit, Savini, fuck!”

He flicks his eyes up to me and smirks as he goes to town, mouthing and licking and sucking me over the material. It’s torture. Exquisite, blissful, torture. I never want him to stop. Except when he begins to peel them down, and then I think I’ll kill him if he doesn’t tear them off me this fucking instant.

My cock springs up in his face and he looks so delighted to see it that a laugh bubbles out of my throat.

“What?” he asks.

“I don’t know, I just…” I’m still laughing. “But like, since when do you suck cock?”

“You’re my first,” he says. “So it’s all teeth, right?”

My smile falls and he laughs.

“Dick,” I say, lifting a foot to kick him.

Smiling, he catches my foot and shuffles to sit up on his knees, bringing my foot to his mouth to kiss the instep. It’s so soft and tender, so reverent, that watching him do it pulls at something in my chest. When he begins to massage it softly, thumb digging into the arch as he runs his mouth over the toes, my dick is all but forgotten. I groan in pure bliss.

How the fuck did he know…?

Oh. Right. He’s a dancer too.

When his thumb presses between the toe pads, I can’t help the tremble that rolls over me. My nipples tingle as he breathes over them, it’s insanely good.

“Fuck…” I say again. Breathy and soft.

“You know, you swear a lot,” he says.

“Only around you.”

He grins and bites down gently on the side of my foot. I moan again.

“That feels really good…”

“I know.”

“But I’d really like you to suck my dick,” I say. “Without teeth, please.”

“Oh, he does know how to be polite?”

“Oh, manners were drummed into me at a very young age.”

He smiles and it’s stupidly attractive, and then he’s kissing a path from my ankle to my calf to my inner thigh. Soft sucking kisses that turn me inside out. I feel like I’m being worshipped: his hands and his mouth and his eyes all working together to do it.

When he settles between my legs and brings his head down, I think I might expire from relief.

It is not his first time sucking cock, that’s for sure. This is something I don’t have time to think about because he’s fucking good at it. Twisting his head as he moves up and down, using his free hand to grip and fondle my balls. It could be beginner’s luck, I suppose, but something tells me he’s done this before—a lot maybe—and I am going to come directly down his throat if he doesn’t stop.

“Savini,” I protest. “Stop… you have to…”

He lifts off, but it’s too late. My cum spurts in long, ropey strings onto my chest, seemingly endless.

“Hot,” he says as I’m still going.

“Christ…” I manage, stomach still clenching from the force of it. When it ends, I lift my head up to find him watching me, a soft look of satisfaction on his face. I’m not sure why he looks so satisfied given he’s not fucking come yet. He still has all his clothes on and looks to be as hard as he was when we started this. I sit up and reach for him and we’re kissing again, the taste of my dick on his mouth deeply fucking arousing.

He shoves my shirt off my shoulders as I help him out of his clothes until we’re naked and pressed against each other, mouths and hands exploring.

I stroke his dick a few times until he pulls away.

“I’ll come if you do that.”

“That’s the idea,” I point out, reaching for him again.

“I don’t want to. Not yet.”

I sit back and look at him. Properly. Then I take a moment to take in my surroundings; I’m on Nico’s bed. In Nico’s flat. Naked. He’s naked and kissing me and hard and absolutely none of this feels as weird as it should. I’d said earlier it was bizarre, but truthfully, it doesn’t feel like that at all. Conceptually, the idea of it to me a week ago would have blown my skull apart. But really, the moment I accepted he was hot and talented, it was surely only a matter of time before this happened.

What’s bizarre is, I never knew Nico Savini liked men. I’m ashamed of myself. Maybe if I’d taken five minutes to stop hating him, I might have worked it out.

“So, you’re Bi?” I ask. “Or straight and experimenting with me? Or something else altogether?”

He seems a little taken aback by the question.

“Sorry, that’s absolutely none of my business. I mean, it is in the sense that you’re in bed with me, but your coming out is absolutely your own thing.”

Nico looks perplexed. “You think if I was going to experiment with guys, I’d choose you?” It sounds like he finds the idea not only absurd but faintly dangerous.

“Um, well, I am the perfect specimen of man.” I gesture down my body. “So yeah, that would make sense. I make lots of men question things; it’s a burden, honestly.”

He smiles a little, but then shakes his head and moves to lie back and stare at his ceiling.

“It’s complicated,” is what he says.

“Is it?” My sexuality had always been one of the most uncomplicated things in my life. I guess I was just lucky.

Nico says, “Yeah, it is.”

“You wanna talk about it?” I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing here. I never want to talk when sex is on the table—who does? No one, that’s who. But Savini just gave me a mind-blowing orgasm and it seems polite to at least offer.

He glances at me sideways. “No.”

Unexpectedly, this stings a little. Because it sounds like he’s saying: with you? No.

I nod and lie down, too, on my side so that I can stroke my hand down his body. He’s lean and long-limbed and has hair dusted all over his body. Something I’ve always found hot. Shaved smooth boys have never done a thing for me.

“You want me to go down on you?” I ask, as my fingers creep toward his dick—cut, well-proportioned, and still very hard.

“Actually,” he says very seriously, “I’d really like you to get onto all fours and let me eat you out.”

I can do nothing but gawp at him.

“Excuse me?”