I dump my rucksack on the ground. He does the same. I step towards him. My hands reach for his jeans. I undo the button, then the fly. But as I reach for his cock, he stops me.
“No, I want you to eat me.”
Heat flares low in my guts. It flows out along my veins until every inch of me is engulfed in flames. I’ve only had the pleasure of eating Mabon once. It is something I am extremely keen to experience again.
An answering fire glows in his eyes. His smug smile would have infuriated me once, now I’m vowing to inspire that look on his face every day.
He shoves his jeans and underwear down to his ankles. He turns, slowly. Bends artfully, rests his hands against a tree, and presents his wonderful ass to me.
I slowly sink to my knees as if pulled there by gravity. One by one, all my coherent thoughts are falling out of my mind. There is only room for lust. It is taking up all the available space of my consciousness.
One snaking thought clings stubbornly on. It morphs into a memory. It reminds me that the entire reason we are here is because I lied to Mabon and told him I wanted to do naughty stuff outdoors.
That’s never been my thing. It isn’t now. It’s only because we are absolutely in the middle of nowhere, that I’m able to do this. I have no wish to be seen. And the thought of anyone seeing Mabon is making my blood boil.
His moans are mine. His pleasure is mine. His gorgeous body is mine.
I’m far too selfish to be willing to share those things with anyone else. They are mine and mine alone and I’m going to keep it that way. For as long as I can.
Before any more thoughts can torment me, I stick out my tongue and run it along his rim. His little gasp is the most pleasing sound I have ever heard. My hands take a hold of his slender hips so I can hold him still while I ravish him.
I lick around his puckered skin again. The texture feels good against my tongue, but the noise he makes feels even better. I wish I knew what I was doing, but he didn’t complain last time. And he is not complaining now.
I change the direction of my licks so that I’m running over his hole. Long, broad strokes following the direction of his crack.
He whimpers and pushes his ass more into my face. He loves this. Having his ass played with drives him wild. He seems to prefer it to having his cock toyed with, which is just fine by me. We fit together well like that. Perfectly sexually aligned. Even though Mabon had to introduce me to most of the things we do.
Mabon exploded into my life and changed everything. He awakened me. And nothing is ever going to be the same again.
He is moaning beautifully now. Little staccatos of high-pitched cries. His hole is fluttering, so I tighten my grip on his hips and invade him with my tongue in one sharp, sudden thrust.
He wails and his back arches even more. My knees are getting wet from the forest floor, but I couldn’t care less.
I shove my tongue in deeper. Hells, I’d sell my soul for a longer tongue, but I’ll just have to work with what I have and do with my tongue what fingers and cocks cannot.
I give one last long leisurely swirl and then I flick my tongue as fast as I can. It’s far faster than any other part of me can go. I can’t go very deep, but my tongue is soft, warm, wet, and very fast, and I’m gliding past the sensitive skin of his rim.
He is shuddering now. I can’t see, but he has to be clinging to the tree. His hole clenches around my tongue as his orgasm pours from him. He keens. I keep going. I don’t change a thingthat I’m doing, not the tempo, speed or direction. His peak rolls on. And on. All of his muscles are rigid and tight.
“Blake!” he screams.
Euphoria bursts through me. I did it. The greatest achievement of my life.
I pleasured Mabon so well that he screamed my name.
And I can’t wait to do it again.
Chapter thirty-six
It’s our second day of walking and my spirits are still high. Sleeping on the hard ground was no hardship at all, with Mabon in my arms. The warm weight of him was wonderful. His incredible scent was soothing. I’ve given up trying to identify it. It’s simply Mabon and all things good.
I’m gazing at him soppily and I don’t care. He is a few steps in front of me, and there is no one to see my daft expression. Even if there was, I don’t think I’d mind.
Mabon stops walking suddenly and bends down. He picks up a small white pebble. He cleans it off on his jeans and holds it up to the pale winter sunlight. A noise of appreciation purrs out of him and he puts it in his pocket with his other treasures. Then he resumes walking as if nothing happened.
I smile fondly and shake my head. He is such a magpie.
He stops again. This time at a rickety-looking stile leading to an open field. His shoulders tense. I step up next to him on the narrow path.
