I had let Dominique take the initiative the previous night, only crossing lines when he crossed them first. All evening, I monitored his body language and studied his demeanor, ensuring we were still okay. He kissed me without prompting before dinner. I took it as a good sign. What we’d shared hadn’t freaked him out. If I’d seen even an ounce of regret or guilt, I would have held back, but Dominique seemed solid and sure of himself.
If the way he eagerly kissed me back said anything, he was on board with the direction I had in mind.
With his face clutched between my palms, I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, lavishing it with my tongue and biting gently before releasing it and pecking tenderly at the wound I’d inflicted.
Dominique fumbled with my shirt, untucking it and working the buttons open.
I broke free from his mouth long enough to wrench the tie over my head and toss it aside. “I fucking hate that thing.”
Dominique’s lips hooked into a one-sided smile as he fit the last two buttons through the tiny holes. “If I’m being honest. Ties and dress shirts don’t suit you.”
“Joggers and hoodies don’t fit the dress code, or I’d live in them.”
“Now that I can see.” Shirt undone, he pushed it down my arms, and I shook the tight cuffs over my hands, letting the garment puddle on the floor.
I snagged the hem of Dominique’s fitted polo and skated my fingers over the skin beneath. “May I?”
“Please.”
It was gone in a flash, over his head and lost somewhere in the room. I was greeted with the broad expanse of his hairy chest, a commemorative tattoo with its silent wish, and his arms dimpled with goose bumps. I rubbed my hands over them as though I could wipe them away, but they remained, and Dominique shivered.
“Are you cold?” It didn’t seem possible. I was on fire.
“No, Kobe.” He touched the tips of his fingers to my jaw, rasping their pads over my rough stubble. I nipped at one. “I’m incredibly aroused.”
“Oh yeah?” I grinned stupidly. “Good.”
He drew me forward. Our foreheads connected. Our noses bumped before he was on me again, pushing his tongue past mylips and kissing me deeply. It was possessive and hungrier than he’d ever kissed before.
I explored Dominique’s chest, grazing his ribs as he shuddered and laughed, before journeying to his abdomen. His muscles quivered under the assault as I explored every ridge and valley. His nipples grew to hard nubs under the assault, and I rolled one between my finger and thumb, making him fumble and falter against my mouth.
A deep rumble sounded from his chest as he tugged my hair, keeping me in place. I pinched the bud again, and Dominique broke free on a gasp, arching away from my touch.
“That’s sensitive.”
I chuckled. “That’s the point.”
I smoothed my hand along the side of his neck and cradled the back of his head, peering deep into his husky blue eyes, greyer at their center and darker indigo at the edges—deep pools of longing still tinged with a hint of heartache he couldn’t fully hide.
Dominique dragged his hands over the slopes of my shoulders and around to my back, venturing lower, following the curve of my spine. Our lower bodies were already crushed together, but he pulled me firmly against him. The stiff line of his cock rested against my hip, announcing his desire.
“Can I blow you?” The need to taste him was too powerful to ignore. “Please.”
Dominique blinked, seeming momentarily shocked by the blunt request, then he stammered with a surprised laugh, “Um, I’m not exactly going to say no.”
“Good.” I kissed him again, gentler that time.
“You don’t have to,” he said against my mouth.
“I want to. Desperately.”
Still cradling his head, I used my other hand to work the button free on his pants. He wore jeans, but with the zipperdown, it took no effort to push them over his ass. They pooled around his ankles, and Dominique worked his feet free, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
I fondled his cock through his tight briefs while peering deep into his eyes, looking for signs of confliction or uncertainty. There was none. Lust eclipsed that subtle hint of heartache he carried around, and for the first time, I watched Dominique, always so carefully composed, let go and give into the pleasure.
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, lips parting as he panted erratically. The strained tendons in his neck called to me. I nibbled his chin and raked my teeth over its rounded point as I moved lower, grazing my lips and tongue over the curve of his Adam’s apple, delving into the divot at his throat that I’d admired on day one.
As I savored the taste of his skin, I wedged my hand beneath the band of his underwear, locating the thick, rigid length of his cock beneath. I wrapped my fingers around him and gave a few slow, meaningful tugs, milking him for more guttural sounds.
