“No! No, that’s not it at all,” Graeme defended himself, even though he was pretty sure Art was teasing him.
Art chuckled, then moved with surprising speed and wakefulness to roll Graeme to his back and pin him under him. “Good morning, lover,” he said in a deep purr.
He moved like he would kiss Graeme, but Graeme twisted his head to the side. “I’m sure my breath is terrible,” he said.
“I’m sure mine is, too,” Art said, his smile broadening and his expression more alert by the second. “I guess we’ll just have to think of something else to do to greet the morning instead.”
“I’m not sure how much time?—”
That was as far as Graeme got before Art disappeared under the covers. Graeme felt him slide down his torso and spread hislegs open wide using his own knees. He lifted his arms like he should be doing something to either help or stop whatever Art was doing.
A moment later, Art’s hand cupped and gently squeezed his balls while his other hand stroked his semi-hard dick. All Graeme had time to do was gasp before Art’s mouth was around the head of his cock, licking and sucking.
“Art,” Graeme managed to gasp, moving his arms so he could grip the headboard behind him.
Graeme could count the number of times he’d been given a blow job on one hand and have fingers left over. It wasn’t something good girls did in the community he’d grown up in, and Damien had claimed he didn’t like giving head, just receiving it.
Art, on the other hand, clearly loved what he was doing. He groaned as he used his tongue to slather the whole flared head of Graeme’s cock with spit, then made the most erotic sounds Graeme had ever heard as he bore down, taking Graeme in deep. The warm, wet sensation of sucking and tightness as Art swallowed were unbelievably good, and the fact that Graeme couldn’t see Art under the covers, only feel what he was doing, was even better.
He was a moaning wreck on the verge of orgasm in no time. He gripped the headboard with white knuckles, half of him feeling like he should hold out as long as possible out of respect for Art and half of him wanting to shoot the biggest load the world had ever seen down his throat.
In the end, Art didn’t give him much choice. The man knew what he was doing and knew how to play Graeme’s body like a fine instrument. He picked up the pace of his plunging, and with a gasp and a cry, Graeme shouted, “I’m coming!” far louder than he should have.
It was amazing, like white lightning coursing through his groin and his entire body. He bucked his hips, thrusting deeper into Art’s mouth because he couldn’t help himself. Pleasure was quickly followed by satisfaction, and by the time Art emerged from under the covers with a wicked grin and a dribble of white at the corner of his mouth, Graeme couldn’t remember his own name, let alone whether he was supposed to feel guilty for the sin of whatever.
“I wish my phone was in reach, because I would absolutely take a picture of you looking like this right now,” Art said, kneeling up, his cock standing up hard and proud, gazing down at Graeme’s flushed body. His cock had deflated a bit, but it lay against Graeme’s hip, shining and noticeable.
Art drank in the sight for a moment before spreading himself over Graeme and slamming his mouth into Graeme’s. The shock of such a powerful kiss had Graeme’s eyebrows shooting up, and the musky taste of the kiss should have been gross and shameful, but somehow turned him on all over again.
They sank down to their sides and continued kissing. Art deftly reached for Graeme’s hand and moved it to his still solid erection. With just a little prompting, Graeme gladly stroked his lover until his breathing hitched and he started to come all over his hand with a satisfied growl. It was all so simple and basic, but so good at the same time.
“Now that’s how you greet a new day,” Art said a few minutes later, once he’d caught his breath. “It’s only a shame Ryan wasn’t here to watch or to join in.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Graeme said sheepishly. “Is that wrong?”
“What? No,” Art laughed, sliding his hands all over Graeme’s body. “We’re a triad, remember? That means we’re all fair game to each other in all the combinations. And let’s face it, I know you liked watching Ryan rearranging my insides last month.”
Graeme went hot all over again. “I couldn’t look away,” he confessed. “It was hot.”
“Want to watch us when we’re all naked and horizontal?” Art asked, eyes sparkling.
Graeme laughed. “Yes,” he admitted. “God forgive me, but yes. I want to watch the two of you having sex, and I want you to watch me in whatever combination we end up in.”
“And participate,” Art said. “Don’t forget about that.”
“How could I?” Graeme asked with a grin, then leaned in to kiss Art.
The kiss lasted longer than he expected, and it might have gone on or led to another round of wickedness, but the alarm he’d set on his phone the night before went off, throwing cold water on everything.
“We’ve got to get up,” he said, gasping and sitting up immediately. “Ryan needs us.”
Art laughed. “Normally, I would coax you back into bed and sit on your cock, but you’re right, Ryan needs us.”
Graeme smiled as he got out of bed and raced for the bathroom. Art must have been focused and cared about Ryan if he was forgoing more sex to help him.
When he’d set the alarm the night before, Graeme had given them plenty of time to wash, dress, and grab some breakfast before they absolutely needed to be on the road. Even with that planning, it took them longer to shower than it should have, mostly because Art insisted on getting in with Graeme and messing about when they should have just washed and run.
A whole other complication hit them when they headed downstairs, bags already packed and stashed in the car before they headed into Penwith Grange’s dining room for their complimentary breakfast. Graeme and Art weren’t the only guests at the hotel. In fact, the dining room was at least half fullwhen they entered to grab a few things they could take with them to eat on the road. And among the guests were Graeme’s parents.
