The broad, well-veined hands with sturdy fingers, and the way they felt on Alex’sskin…
Perfection.
Tonight, Alex would take this man—a stranger—and turn their experience together into a piece of art. It was the only way he’d shake the feeling of worthlessness coursing through his veins and silence the poisonous thoughts in his mind. This man, whoever he was, was the cure Alex needed. And when he was done, Alex would cast him aside, just as he had all the other canvases he’dpainted.
The moment they shared was as ephemeral as the relief Alex would find in him, but tonight, it wasenough.
Through creation, Alex would forget that which he regretted the most, and he wouldn’t hurtanymore.
The man’s lips traced down his neck, past the dip where Alex knew the scent of his omega manifested the strongest, and down his crisp suit jacket. In the darkness, Alex could only follow him by touch—a nuzzle against his side, a caress by his hip, and a silent, pleased exhale almost like a laugh when the stranger sank loweryet.
He dropped to his knees while Alex remained pinned against the door. In the distance, patrons conversed. Music played. The evening was going on without them, but there was nowhere Alex would ratherbe.
Alex ran his fingers through the man’s hair, subtly pushing his face closer to the bulge behind his fly. The pressure exploded as color behind his eyes—purple, primarily, but then blues and greens that exploded like fireworks against the darkness and fizzled into nothing. They were the loveliest shades Alex had everseen.
There were no words. Speech would have mired the experience. Instead, Alex listened to the noises that surrounded him. Joining the sounds of distant conversation in the gallery was the ragged in and out of the man’s breath, then theclickof the metal hook of Alex’s belt as it separated from its buckle. The gentle tug as the leather tongue eased free and slid against his pants replaced the crispness of metal against metal, until that, too, was replaced by the noise of his zipper coming undone. Alex held himself taut and let the sensation of his slacks loosening paint a new picture in his mind—purples and greens exploded like clouds of dust behind his eyes, and Alex let the colors flood through him and craft his mood in theirimage.
Beautiful.
Cathartic.
Stunning.
Alex’s fingers tightened in the man’s hair. Cold air flooded the space recently exposed by his undone fly, and he shivered. The lace he wore beneath did little to guard him against the temperature, but he welcomed the sensation. It made what he felt morereal.
The tip of the man’s nose pressed inward to nuzzle against Alex’s partially clothed shaft, only for a guttural moan to escape his lips. Alex heard it clearly, and from it, he became aware that he was breathing hard, too—making small, lusty noises akin to whimpers that set his soul onfire.
Tonight was supposed to have been about finding relief from the wrongs he’d committed, but he couldn’t mistake the signs his body was giving him. Hewantedthe stranger. And when a wet tongue dragged itself along the lace, causing Alex to clench his teeth to keep from crying out, he knew that he couldn’t deny it any longer. What he’d found tonight wasn’t simplerelease.
He wouldn’t pursue the thought any further thanthat.
The tongue reached his tip—which was tucked so that it was barely exposed beneath the elastic band of his panties—then swirled against his bare skin and traced along his shaft again. It navigated the lace with skill, applying just enough pressure that Alex’s attention was forced onto the thin, frilly material that separated them. It heightened his experience as much as it teasedhim.
He’d never wanted out of his panties so badlybefore.
He pressed the man’s head forward, and his malleable canvas responded. The intensity increased. The tongue pressed harder. A moan parted from Alex’s lips, delicate, but expressive of his absolute want. He rubbed himself against the man’s tongue, forcing the lace against his shaft, until the tongue returned to the bare head of hiscock.
Nowords.
Instincts.
Alex willed it, and like their souls were already connected, the man did as he desired. He circled the head of Alex’s cock with his tongue, then pressed into Alex’s leaking pissslit.
If Alex had wanted to speak, he was out of luck—language fled, leaving him with primal, lusty sounds that conveyed a singlemessage.
Fuckme.
The man’s tongue left the tip of his cock and darted beyond the tiny, stretched elastic that held the panties in place. His head sank down, and Alex felt the pull as his top teeth snagged the fabric. With a throaty growl, the man pulled the lace panties down only far enough so that Alex’s cock sprang free. He let them snap back into place near Alex’s balls—a fleeting moment of pain that exploded in orange amongst the purples and greens of lust in Alex’s mind—then ran his tongue up along Alex’s shaft and took him into hismouth.
A puff of breath exploded upward from deep in Alex’s stomach, allowing room for pleasure to fill the space left behind. His fingers curled, and his nails pressed against the man’s scalp, guiding him down on his cock so he could swallow Alex whole. The view was lost to him—even though his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could only see shadows and hints of movement—but the pleasure detonating behind his eyes spoke clearly enough. The orange color—pain—was gone. Then, something curious and troublesomehappened.
Purple unexpectedly overshadowed green, and Alex let his mindgo.
The man tightened his lips and let Alex sink into his throat. His wet warmth enveloped Alex’s shaft, and his tongue put pressure from beneath. Alex latched his fingers into his hair and pushed his hips forward, chasing the orgasm building in his balls. The intensity of the color in his mind increased, and he knew it wouldn’t be longnow.
Just a littlemore.
The man sucked in a ragged, desperate gasp around Alex’s cock, then went back to sucking. Alex thrust shallowly, but kept his pace quick, sinking into his throat in rapid bursts again and again. Heat spread through his cheeks and across his forehead. It crept under the collar of his dress shirt and made him aware of himself in ways average life never did. Muscles tight, insides clenched, balls ready to spill, he was ready for the finalstroke.
