“Gentle?” Tobias echoed.
“Mm,” Soren hummed, pulling Tobias’s hips away from the counter and spreading him open.
At the first swipe of Soren’s tongue across his hole, Tobias swore his legs almost buckled. He gripped the countertop white-knuckled, eyes rolling as Soren did it again and again. Why did that feel so good? He rocked his hips back, wanting more. Soren was right. Tobias wasn’t moaning like a porn star, but his breath came in heavy pants, and tiny half-bitten-off whines fell from his lips no matter how much he tried to stop them.
How could he stay silent with Soren’s face buried against the most intimate part of him, his tongue working against him in a maddening rhythm? Tobias moaned when Soren pulled his cock back between his legs to lick him from crown to hole with the broad sweep of his tongue. Christ. He should have experimented more, played around with more people, then maybe his knees wouldn’t be wobbling like he was one good lick away from orgasm.
Soren stood and took Tobias’s cock in hand, using his saliva as lubricant as his mouth trailed over his skin. Tobias jumped when the pad of Soren’s finger played over his entrance before hesitating. He wanted permission. “Go ahead,” he managed in a raw voice.
The tip of Soren’s finger probed Tobias’s entrance just to the first knuckle and stopped, but it was too late for Tobias. He drove into Soren’s tightened fist and came in seconds, his release streaking over the front of his stainless steel dishwasher.
He was not explaining that to his housekeeper.
Soren didn’t stop stroking until Tobias batted his hand away, turning so he could slant their lips together. Without bothering to unbutton Soren’s jeans, Tobias jammed his hand down the front of them, groaning against his lips when he encountered hot, firm flesh. Soren was hard and heavy, already wet at the tip, and Tobias smeared over it with his thumb before giving a few timid strokes.
Too dry.
Tobias did undo Soren’s pants then, pushing them out of the way and going to his knees. “Do what you did before, in the shower,” he muttered before closing his mouth over the salty tip of Soren’s cock and bobbing his head a few times to make the slide easier.
Soren caught his hand roughly in Tobias’s hair and pulled him off enough to yank his head back. “Yeah? You like that, Doc? Like it a little rough? Like being used just a little?”
Tobias figured he must because all he wanted was the feel of Soren’s cock on his tongue and the unfamiliar ache in his jaw he’d had after their shower. He wanted to remember what they’d done long after it was over.
Soren dragged the head of his cock across Tobias’s lips before pushing in for a few shallow thrusts almost as if he was testing Tobias.
Tobias forced himself to relax and try to forget everything but this, the two of them. Soren went deeper with each thrust until Tobias’s eyes watered and spit ran down his face, but Soren kept a running commentary going that let Tobias know he liked what was happening.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
That was all the warning Tobias got before the salty sweet taste of Soren’s cum flooded his mouth. He tried to swallow it all but felt some trickling down his chin. Soren dragged him to his feet, still breathing hard as he pressed Tobias’s back into the counter. “You’re a mess.” Soren’s smile was soft enough that Tobias wanted to run away, to flee the weird warmth spreading through him as Soren took a napkin and wiped his face like he was a child.
Oh, fuck. This was bad. Very bad. The literal worst thing that could happen. Tobias fuckinglikedSoren. As a person. Liked the way he talked, the way he looked, the way he touched him like he had a right.
Un-fucking-acceptable.
They ate dinner in silence, Tobias staring into his stir-fry like it held the secret to life’s mysteries. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. What was the etiquette after a guy finger-banged you in your kitchen until you gave a facial to your overpriced appliances? How did one just go back to talking about the weather…or murder…or death threats?
“I really don’t see how going to talk to the people who want to murder you is going to put you in less danger,” Soren said as soon as Tobias brought their dishes to the sink.
“It’s like I told you before. My entire client base has a vested interest in keeping me alive.”
Soren took a long pull from his beer and Tobias couldn’t help but notice the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed or the way he held the neck of the bottle between two fingers. What was wrong with him? Was this what relationships felt like? Finding every little inane detail about another person suddenly fascinating? Tobias hated it. He would’ve pulled the plug on the whole thing immediately if he could have.
“I’m going to need more information than that, Glasses.”
“I know where all the literal bodies are buried.”
“That makes you more disposable, not less.”
Tobias shook his head. “My clients need me. Who else will they divulge their sick secrets to? Who else can they tell but me? If I die, they lose their only chance at a therapist. I’m an asset. I just need to make the mob see that.”
“So, you want to go and‘quid pro quo, Clarice’a bunch of mobsters?” Soren asked with a chuckle.
“I think they need to understand the stakes. Don’t you? Even if I don’t have dirt on them specifically, putting the word out to my client list that my life and their sounding board is in danger will ensure I’m bulletproof.”
“This is a bad idea, Doc.” Soren grimaced. “Like maybe the worst idea I’ve ever heard, but if this is how you want to play it. I guess we’re gonna go find ourselves a mob boss.”
Tobias grinned and it was so out of character that he wasn’t certain which of them was more startled by it. But he couldn’t stop. He’d won. “This is all going to work out. I’m sure of it.”
