What We Do When They Finally Leave Us Alone

Those who stayed to sleep leave a little after nine, and they leave us sprawled in the middle of the huge bed, wrecked, trembling, with our skin still sticky and the sheets twisted in a knot at our feet. Leo has flushed cheeks, messed-up hair, swollen lips. I’m no better: I can hardly close my legs and every muscle in me feels like I’ve run a marathon.

The attic door slams shut downstairs with a dull thud. Then, silence. Only our ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic rising from the street.

I prop myself up on my elbows. Morning light comes through the floor-to-ceiling window and outlines Leo’s body, still stretched out beside me, his chest rising and falling slowly. There’s a red mark on his neck that will be a bruise tomorrow, and the mere thought that I left it there heats me up all over again.

We look at each other for a second, both wearing that stupid grin of people who know the night isn’t over. Leo crawls over me slowly and kisses me with a slow, deep tongue, unhurried, savoring me whole. His weight on my body is all I need for everything to wake up again.

—Now it’s our turn —he murmurs against my mouth—. I want this again, just you and me.

I bite his lower lip and hold it for a moment before letting go.

—And I want to leave you unable to walk —I tell him.

***

We start slowly, catching our breath. Leo lies on his back in the center of the bed, legs spread, and I kneel between them. I run my mouth over his whole body: his neck, his collarbone, the nipples that go hard the moment I graze them with my teeth. I move down his abdomen, licking every shadow of muscle, until I reach his cock, hard again, taut against his stomach.

I take him all the way into my mouth, slowly, feeling him pulse in my throat. I circle the shaft with my tongue, suck hard on the tip, then go back down. He moans and grabs my hair with both hands, setting the pace, pushing his hips up a little to sink deeper.

I lift his legs until I rest them on my shoulders and pry his ass cheeks apart with my hands. I bury my face between them. I lick him slowly first, my tongue flat, from bottom to top, and I feel him shudder. Then I speed up, my tongue pointed, in and out, while he pushes back looking for more. When I slide in two fingers, he arches his back and breathes my name like a gasp.

—Now —he begs—. I can’t take it anymore.

I rise onto my knees, lube myself up well, and thrust into him in one hard stroke to the hilt. Leo cries out, grips the sheets, throws his head back. I stay still for a second, letting him get used to it, feeling him clench around me.

Then I start moving. Slowly at first, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in just as slowly, rubbing that spot inside him that drives him crazy. Every time I find it, Leo bites his hand to keep from crying out too loud.

—More —he says—. Harder.

I pick up speed. Hard, deep, relentless. The bed bangs against the wall, my hips collide with his, and he moans louder and louder, not caring about anything anymore.

***

I put him on all fours, ass up, face buried in the pillow. I position myself behind him and drive in again at once, gripping his hips, fucking him mercilessly. I slap one cheek, then the other, and the sharp sound mixes with his moans.

I lie down over his back, my chest pressed to his sweat-slick skin, my mouth at his ear.

—Do you like it like this? —I whisper—. Do you like it when I’m all yours?

—Yes —he pants—. Don’t stop, please.

I change positions. I lie on my back and pull him toward me.

—Come here. I want to see you.

Leo sits on top of me, looking me in the eyes, and impales himself on his own, slowly, all the way in. Then he starts riding me, his hands braced on my tattooed chest, his legs trembling. His green eyes locked on mine, his mouth parted, his cock bouncing against my stomach with every plunge down.

I dig my fingers into his hips and guide him, up and down, faster and faster. Seeing him like this, open, giving himself over, riding me as if nothing else in the world existed, drives me to the edge again and again. I have to breathe deep to keep from coming too soon.

—Turn around —I tell him.

He turns without pulling out, now with his back to me, hands resting on my knees, and thrusts even harder. I hold his waist, help him move, and watch his back arch with every stroke. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

***

I lower him and lay him on his side. I press against his back, lift one leg, and enter him from behind again, slow and long at first, then fast and deep. With my free hand I stroke his cock at the same rhythm, feeling it hard, wet at the tip.

We turn our heads to kiss over his shoulder, tongue seeking tongue, biting each other while I move inside him. It’s intimate and wild at the same time, the two things we are when we’re left alone.

I wrap my arm around his chest and pull him against me, never stopping. I feel his heart beating under my hand, racing, and the way the air keeps escaping him every time I drive all the way in. There’s no hurry now, only the slow brush of his body against mine and the shared heat beneath the tangled sheets.

—Now it’s my turn —Leo says suddenly, with that crooked smile I know all too well.

He puts me face down, spreads my legs, and gives me back everything I’ve done to him. First his mouth, his tongue deep inside, his fingers, until I tremble the way he had trembled. Then he positions himself behind me, grabs my tied-up hair as if it were reins, and thrusts into me with a stroke that steals my breath.

He starts fucking me hard, deep, his hips slamming against my ass. I cling to the pillow and ask for more, and he gives it to me, faster and faster, biting my nape, whispering in my ear how much he likes me.

—Turn around —he orders now.

He rolls me onto my back, lifts my legs to my shoulders, and drills me in that position while looking into my eyes. He strokes my cock at the same rhythm he’s fucking me, and I no longer know where one pleasure ends and the other begins. I drive my heels into his back so he can go deeper.

***

When we’re almost out of strength, we both kneel in the center of the bed, facing each other, wrapped in each other’s arms, our cocks brushing between our two bellies. We jerk each other off slowly, watching one another, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard.

—I want to watch you come —I tell him.

—You first —he answers.

Leo kneels in front of me, lifts his face, and looks up at me with those green eyes that undo me. I stroke myself fast, hold the back of his neck, and by the time I get there I can’t hold it back any longer. I come with a long groan, shaking all over, clinging to his shoulders.

He holds me while I come apart, never taking his eyes off me, and only when I’m done does he stand and kiss me, slowly, as if he wants to seal the moment into himself.

—Your turn —I say, my voice broken.

Now I kneel. Leo strokes himself furiously, jaw clenched and abdominal muscles tight. I put a hand on his thigh and look up at him, waiting. When he comes, he throws his head back and lets out a hoarse groan that raises gooseflesh all over me.

We stay like that for a moment, kneeling, panting, our hands still on each other’s bodies. Then we collapse onto the rumpled bed, arms around each other, laughing under our breath like two madmen.

***

Leo bites my shoulder and whispers against my skin:

—Whatever people say, this is ours alone. You and me, when everyone leaves.

I stroke his back with the tips of my fingers, drawing lazy circles.

—And it will always be the best thing of all —I answer.

We get into the shower together. Hot water rains down on us and we keep kissing under the stream, unhurried, our hands roaming slowly over each other. We don’t have the strength for anything else anymore, and we don’t need to. We wash each other, I push his wet hair off his forehead, he runs the sponge over my tattooed back.

We end up back in bed, the sheets still tangled, our bodies heavy with exhaustion. Leo rests his head on my chest and I wrap my arm around his shoulders.

This is what no one sees, I think as his eyes start to close. The part that is mine alone.

We fall asleep wrapped around each other well into the afternoon, with the taste of the other still in our mouths and the calm certainty that, whatever happens out there, when he and I are left alone we always end up like this: wrecked, sated, and more bound together than ever.