The idea is so appealing that I don’t even point out it’s too damn hot in here anyway, despite the AC running on low through the place. “Okay. I guess.”
I follow him back up the stairs into the open bedroom and slide into the cool satin sheets, letting out a sigh of pleasure. “This is the way to sleep. I need some of these sheets, man.”
He turns the light out and I blink to adjust my eyes in the dim light. The other side of the bed dips and then the sheets shift around as he slides in. “Finch D’Amato gave them to me last Christmas. I got three more unopened packs of them in the closet. I’ll let you take one as long as you keep quiet now and let me get back to sleep.”
“I’ll try.”
“No more nightmares.”
“IsaidI’ll try.”
He gives a sigh, shuffles over in the bed, and prods me until I turn over and he’s hooked his arm over me. I relax into him, smirking into the dark. I knew we’d end up like this. Any second now he’ll start kissing the back of my neck and we’ll segue into another round of our best stress-relief efforts.
Any…second…now…
* * *
The next time I wake,it’s because there’s a chainsaw going in my ear, only it’s not a chainsaw, it’s Nick Fontana snoring like a hibernating bear. He’sloud. But I’m just relieved I had no more dreams, and the bright sunny light streaming in from the windows tells me it’s late, well past my regular pre-dawn waking time. I let Nick snore a few minutes more before shifting slightly under his arm. He gives one last choked-off snore, smacks his lips, and then gives a happy grunt.
His arm tightens around me. I let it.
He’s held me like that all night, and I haven’t slept as soundly as this since…well, since that time he stayed at my place and did the same thing, held me through the night. There’s something very reassuring about being wrapped tight in arms that look like an anaconda swallowed a basketball, let me tell you. Hard to believe anything could ever get past a guy built like Nick Fontana.
He moves again, his nose burrowing into the back of my neck, and lets out a hum of pleasure. “You make a good snuggle toy, Harvard.”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Sleep okay?” He gives a loud yawn, almost drowning out my response.
“Yeah, actually.” I pause and then add, hoping it won’t make things weird, “Thanks for letting me sleep here. Uh. With you. In your bed.”
“Y’welcome,” he grunts. I can feel his lips moving against the back of my neck and catch my breath. I give an experimental shuffle of my ass against him, and I can feel his thick cock pressing up against me. If we’d both slept naked, I’d be able to feel his heat, his smooth skin sliding against mine. I shift again, hook a foot over his ankle. “What are you up to?” he asks, but he sounds amused.
“I should thank you,” I purr. Sucking his balls dry and then covering his spent cock with my own cum sounds like a great way to start the morning, and I know for a fact that he’d enjoy it too. He did the morning he woke up in my bed, that’s for sure.
“You really don’t need…” He trails off as I reach behind me to run a hand up his hairy thigh and wriggle back even more firmly into his dick. “Mm. Maybe you do.”
The thing about Nick and me is, we really do have great sexual chemistry. When I told him the other night that he’s the best I’ve had, unforgettable, I really meant it. But it’s not anything in particular hedoes. It’s more like pheromones or some primate-brain mating shit orsomething.Sex with him feels different not because of anything special we do, but because of who he is. Because of who I am. Because of who we become when we fit together, move together, get caught up in each other’s bodies.
Most guys, I wouldn’t put my mouth on their dick first thing in the morning before they’ve cleaned off a sweaty night. With Nick, though, the idea of tasting him musky and raw makes my mouth wet with anticipation. But it’s not just the physical aspect, either. There’s something about the man himself. The way he makes mefeel.
I plunge my hand deeper, find a damp patch at the front of his underwear, and mold my fingers against the head of his cock, rubbing down the shaft to slick him up. “You just lie back and let me take care of you. You know I will, right?”
“No doubt in my mind.” He stretches out on his back with a satisfied sigh, one arm still under my neck. I like it, and I want to stay right here like this for a while, so I don’t dive for his dick yet. I roll onto my side and watch his face as I play with him. He keeps his eyes closed, but I can see them moving under his eyelids, and when I give a particular flick of the wrist that I know from experience he likes, they crack open. He turns his face half toward mine and looks at me through his eyelashes.
I wonder what he’s thinking about.
“When I’m done with you,” I tell him, “you’re gonna say, ‘Harvard, I want you to suck me like that every single morning,’ and I’m gonna be all smug when I turn you down.”
“I’ll remember to be appropriately grateful.”
“Oh, you won’t have toremember. It’ll spontaneously leap out of your mouth.” I slide down the bed—thank you, satin sheets, for making that move easy—and press my nose into his junk, breathing him in. He’s warm and soft, tangy and piquant as I open my mouth and let his right nut fall onto my tongue. Nicky loves having his balls sucked. Happily, I love sucking Nicky’s balls. There’s a real art to tonguing something that big in your mouth, but it’s one that I’m delighted to continue perfecting. I suck at him gently for a while until he starts getting restless, and then I give the same patient attention to his left side. By this time I’ve moved between his legs and his large hand is on the back of my head, his fingers in my hair, just resting there, not demanding more.
Not yet.
I’m glad about it, because I want to string this out. Every time I have the privilege of sucking this man off, I worry it’ll be the last time I get to do it. There’s been an expiration date on the two of us since we started. We should have hit it well before that weekend in the Hamptons, and now we’re on borrowed time. So I want to take it slow and savor Nicky while I have the chance. I’m all too aware that each time I touch him—each time he touches me—it could be the last time.
I tickle my tongue under the ridge of his cock, trace down the prominent vein and then back up, then pop his thick tip into my mouth to suckle at it. His hips shift and he lets out a sigh. I suck a little harder, let my tongue press into his slit, and I’m rewarded by a salty spill, the taste of him rich in my mouth.
