“You’ve consumed mine,” Mason murmured, tilting his head. “Completely.”
And then their lips were finally touching. Anton felt just like he had remembered. The first brush of contact was like a fist to his chest. He lost his breath, but instead of pulling away to gasp for more, he tried to steal Anton’s.
He had an inch on Anton in height, but the other man’s broader shoulders, his wider hands made Mason feel like he was being surrounded. The feeling was exacerbated when Anton slid his arm around the small of his back, circling him into an embrace that was as overwhelming as it was gentle. Anton never tried to hurry the caress. His lips remained soft and exploratory, barely parted as they learned each other’s shape again. But it was the way they quivered, the smallest of oscillations, that betrayed how deeply Anton’s desire ran.
“I can pretend there is only you when we’re in here,” Anton breathed in between kisses. “I don’t know why.”