He had a funny tan, sun-kissed and golden from the waist up, milk-pale below, crisscrossed with jagged scars from his accident and neat, straight lines where the doctors had cobbled together his knee. I wondered whether he knew how strong he was, and how so much of that strength had nothing to do with his gym-ad-worthy abs, strong legs, or perfect V.
God, but he was perfect. And in the center of all this perfection was his thick, cut cock, already straining and ruddy.
A clear droplet of precum slid down the underside of his shaft, so I leaned in and caught it with my tongue, loving the brine-on-clean-skin taste. His breathing hitched, and I crawled forward, propping myself up on my forearms as I let my weight drop onto his. “You still good?”
He nodded, his pupils dark even as the irises sparkled like the corona of an eclipse. “You don’t need to keep on asking me. Promise, I’ll say something if that changes.”
“All right then.”
We kissed and slid against one another, and nothing about this felt like anything I had ever done before. While I was certain the notches on my bedpost far exceeded his, he made me feel like the amateur, with the way he was kissing me and rolling his hips threatening to make me lose control.
Cock against cock was always a good time, and skin, sweet and fresh from the shower, was never not ambrosia. But this thing had been sparking between us for longer than either of us had known, and now it was overdue. We were desperate and needy for each other.
His five-o’clock shadow was rough while his skin was soft, and that combination of opposites was the man beneath me in a nutshell. Countrified and scholarly, muscular with a shy smile that needed exploring.
His surprised gasps, the way his body bent and arched toward mine, told me I was meeting every one of his needs, and I was drunk off the knowledge. I had always tried, at my mother’s insistence, to moderate my prideful nature. But his unrestrained expressions broke any control I had, filling me with gratification as they made my ego purr.
“I swear you might kill me,” he choked out, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Just know I died a happy man.”
I cracked up and pulled his arm away, loving the humor and barn-burning passion at war in those bright blue eyes. I let my fingertips drift across his clavicles, living for the sharp expansion of his chest.
“You are stunning. Beautiful. Such a gorgeous, special man,” I murmured.
If I thought bringing his body under my spell was an accomplishment, that had nothing on the way my words landed between us. This was a before-and-after moment. In Chicago, I had only experienced job satisfaction to the extent my efforts benefited me. Moving back to Seguin had shown me what it was like to take pride in a job well done, in helping my best friend, and in creating a better community through what we were doing—both with the bar and the wider Syrup initiative.
Still hated that name, though.
This was better than all of that combined. I was making someone I admired feel amazing and, hopefully, more confident in himself. Turning off my thoughts, I focused on his deep, deep pleasure.
Dragging his wrists above his head, I pinned them there with one hand and slid to his side, then used my free hand to explore his tight body. I ran my fingertips over his brow bone, then his sharp cheekbones, then down the slope of his perfect nose and his soft, barely pink lips. His jaw was a masterpiece, his corded neck vulnerable.
His abs rippled under the warm pressure of my hand; his cock was hard, angled up, weeping. I tightened my grip on his wrists, and his shaft bobbed.
“Please,” he begged. “Please.”
I let go of his hands and dipped between his legs, pushing one up and back, stretching him so that he was laid bare and open, nothing of his desire hidden from me. Eagerly, I leaned in and licked his shower-fresh asshole. He let out a sound that was half donkey bray, half curse, half benediction.
Grinning, I dipped down for more, running my tongue along his ass crack before circling his puckered entrance. His balls, which had been slack, tightened. Curious, I sucked one into my mouth, and it was, as I had imagined, divine.
Each place my tongue and teeth and lips and fingers landed pulled more noises from him. Eventually his rough hands cupped my head, his fingers searching a path through the thick coils of my hair. He gripped me tight, his rolling hips adding to the friction as I continued to devour him.
I ran my flattened tongue over the back of his cock and decided that, at some point, I was going to set aside a solid hour to worship this masterpiece. Even as I sucked his head into my mouth, I knew one night would never be enough. I needed so much more. I went back and forth, tonguing him wherever I could and leaving love bites on his thighs, where only he would see them. I sucked his balls into my mouth as my thumb swept over his sensitive hole.
Wordlessly, he reached under his pillow and dragged out a high-quality lube.
“Somebody’s been doing his research,” I said, breaking from my oral exploration to grab the tube from his shaking hand. Looking at his needy-but-nervous expression, I paused. “Hey, is this too much? Do we need to take a break?”
He shook his head vehemently. “No. Not too much. This feels so good, I might have an aneurysm.”
I chuckled. “I know we talked about it briefly, but do you still want me inside you? We don’t have to do that tonight. I’m having plenty of fun already.”
“Please, Oz. Don’t make me beg any more. Just fucking… fuck me.”
That was it. I grabbed the condom he’d laid out for me and rolled it on, then swept lube over his hole before pushing in my middle finger to the first knuckle. He pounded the bed with a closed fist, and I pushed in a little farther.
“Even better than the toy,” he choked out, laughing at himself.
I drove him wild, working him with my mouth and my fingers until he was more relaxed, yet more desperate. I generally found it easy to ignore my own hard-on when I was working over a lover, but I didn’t want Walker to think he was just a body beneath me to play like an instrument. I wanted to make music with him, yes, but together.
