Dash was panting, his leg muscles hard as rock where they lay over Thorne’s shoulders. “You okay?”

Dash nodded frantically. “Yes! Just…need more!”

Thorne needed more too. He thrust, finally going in all the way.

“Fuck!” Dash cried.

Thorne hung over Dash, trying to breathe, trying not to fucking come before he even got started, because the hot clasp of Dash’s ass—having him there, begging, need so plain on his face, body spread out for Thorne—was almost more than he could take.

Thorne wasn’t going to rush this. He kept his rhythm slow and steady. Dash writhed beneath him. “You’re killing me. Get on with it.”

Thorne cupped the back of Dash’s neck, raising his head so they could kiss again. He’d forgotten how good kissing could be. Their tongues fought, shoving their way past one another. Thorne slid his lips along Dash’s throat and sucked at the spot where his neck and shoulder met, wanting to mark him, knowing he shouldn’t.

“Do it!” Dash demanded.

He bit again, harder this time. Dash cried out and hot cum splattered on Thorne’s chest. He let go of Dash’s shoulder and drove in hard. No more slow, no more careful. He had to come. Right fucking then. Release hit like a punch, and he was flying, shouting Dash’s name, his real name, Riley.

Thorne lay there, knowing his blunder might be unforgivable, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t apologize. He buried his face in Ri-Dash’s neck.

Dash’s hands stroked his back; he didn’t pull away, didn’t tense with anger. Maybe Thorne hadn’t ruined everything after all.

When Thorne thought he could sit up without passing out, he rose off Dash, but he didn’t look him in the eye. He was too much of a coward. He fumbled his way to the bathroom, disposed of the condom, and splashed cold water on his face. His reflection showed every one of his forty-two years. Twenty more than Dash. Twenty. What the fuck was he thinking? He cleaned himself up, wet a washcloth, and brought it to Dash. Thorne wasn’t ready to face him, but he couldn’t put it off any longer.

“I’m sorry.” More words piled up behind those, but he shut his mouth, locking them in.

Dash watched him.

After a few seconds, Thorne couldn’t stand the silence. He sorted through the things he wanted to say and found something appropriate. “Does it help to know I’ve apologized more to you in a few weeks than I have to anyone in years?”

Dash smiled then. “Maybe. I’d like to think I bring out the good in you.”

Thorne’s chest tightened. He finally looked into Dash’s eyes. Thorne didn’t see what he’d expected. Dash didn’t appear angry; wary maybe, but not angry.