“My name means snow boy. Did I ever tell you that?”
He chuckled and shook his head as he opened the door and let us in. I flipped on the switch near the door and all the overhead lights flared to life. He covered his eyes the way he always did.
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“I hate that,” he grumped.
“I’m sorry,” I said, then kissed his cheek.
He lowered his hand while I kicked off my shoes, then set them on the mat next to the door that I’d put there to collect the winter slush. He dropped his boots beside mine, and I stared for a minute. I liked to look at our things together. We tossed our coats over a chair at the island, which we’d gotten into a habit of doing recently.
Micah grabbed my hand and pulled me into a hug. I loved the black sweater he had on, and I ran my hands over his back, enjoying the slim muscles covered in soft fabric. He buried his face against my neck and inhaled, then groaned.
“Thank you for paying attention to me at the party. You were right. I was ready to leave. You smell so good,” he said with a sigh and sniffed me again.
Laughing, I gently pushed him back until I could look into his grateful eyes. “My cologne is on your dresser. You can wear it anytime you want.”
“But I like to smell it on you,” he said, and the innocent look he gave me was perfect. He wasn’t trying to be sexy—he just said the best things. My heart did a weird, happy flip.
He leaned against me. “No one has ever paid attention to me like you do.” He covered my mouth with his, and I loved the way he parted his lips so our tongues could dance together. Things heated between us as I lapped my tongue into his mouth, and he made cute, sexy little sounds that made me want to devour him. I urged him forward, walking him backward toward his bedroom door. I didn’t let him turn around because I liked the way he trusted me to guide him past the couch and coffee table, putting his life into my hands. When he hit the bedroom door, I took the chance to kiss him harder, pushing him back against it. He panted and wriggled, and his hard-on brushed my abs.
By the time I twisted the knob and opened the door, we almost fell through. I stopped at the dresser and grabbed my cologne, the blue bottle sparkling in the low light as he flipped the switch on the wall and the lamp beside the bed flared to life. I spritzed myself, and he moaned.
“Undress for me,” I said, loving the way he visibly shuddered at the order.
Micah nodded and was adorable with how fast he tried to get out of his clothes. He almost fell while ripping his sweater up and off, then the undershirt. I stepped forward and caught him around the waist, running my hands over his soft, warm skin, and he unbuckled his belt, then undid the button on his pants. I couldn’t help myself; I lowered the zipper before teasing my fingers over his trapped dick. He leaned in and kissed me, taking his time to turn it into something deep and beautiful that had me sliding a hand behind his neck to hold him still. I sucked on his tongue and rubbed his dick for a minute or two before I stepped back.
Pinkness had spread across his face, down his neck, and his chest was the same color. His nipples stood out on his pecs and a thin trail of brown hair led from his belly button down into his pants.
“Go on. I want to see you,” I said.
He nodded and pushed his pants and underwear down at the same time, then stepped out of them. My breath caught. Since we’d gotten together, I thought maybe he’d been eating more regularly, and he was a little more solid because I’d started convincing him to go on walks with me or sometimes do some light weights at the gym. He’d already looked good, but now he seemed healthy and happy, especially when he smiled at me. I loved the way his dick curved up like it was waiting for my command to erupt with cum—or maybe I just knew Micah loved that so much that I was imagining things. A drop of clear liquid beaded in his slit, and I swiped my finger across it, then sucked on the sweet and bitter drop.
His mouth fell open.
I stripped my shirt off, then tossed it, and I didn’t look away as I removed the rest of my clothes. I wasn’t trying to be sexy or drive him crazy, I just loved seeing his shocked reactions every time a new piece of me was exposed to his hungry gaze.
“Can I kiss your tattoos?” he breathed out, barely a whisper.
“Yes, Hanii. Put your mouth on me wherever you want.” I couldn’t help my happy sigh as he rushed forward and started with the wordBurnetched in black ink on my neck. My father waffled between wanting me in the family business and wanting me far the fuck away from it, but if Micah loved tattoos this much, I might get my entire body done the way Dad had when he was my age. It was pretty typical for men in his position.
I gasped as Micah traced around the dragon on my right pec, then tickled his tongue over my nipple. Normally I ran the show, but fuck, I loved everything he was doing. I didn’t have a single desire to tell him to do anything else when he sweetly hit his knees and grasped my dick, blinking up at me as if he was afraid that I would tell him no.
I never had and couldn’t imagine a situation where I wouldn’t want his lips on my dick.
“Can I, please?” he breathed out.
“Hmm. You’re doing such a good job of making me feel good. Yes. Open.” I put my hand over his and helped to guide my dick into his mouth. He never glanced away once, not even when I accidentally gagged him. I began to shallowly thrust, teasing both of us. I cupped his jaw and brushed my thumbs over his cheekbones. My chest felt warm, and I never wanted to stop being connected to him this way. I felt so amazing because I knew he needed me to fuck his mouth, wanted me to do it, and somehow that made every sensation brighter and better.
I tormented us both until I was ready to empty my balls, but then I pulled out and held him back when he tried to chase after my shiny dick, glossy with his spit.
“Come up here,” I growled out.
He had to try twice to stand, and his dick was leaking a thick line of precum onto the floor that made me want to fuck him until he couldn’t walk. Instead, I kissed him, claiming him by attacking his mouth, then nibbling on his top lip. He whined when I sucked on the bottom one.
“What do you want?” I pulled back and stared at him.
He pouted because I knew exactly what he wanted—and he was aware of that fact—but I loved hearing him say it, so I asked anyway.
