His shame is clear, even behind the mask, which is why when he takes my hand and pulls me to a quieter lounge area behind the DJ booth, I follow without question.
We relax side by side on a two-seater leather couch, and he places our entwined hands on his thigh, the intimacy taking me by surprise.
He doesn’t take his eyes off our joined hands as he admits, “I’m sorry about last month.” He runs his free hand through his dark curls. “That was a dick move.”
“Yeah, it was.” I huff a laugh, my thoughts muddled by the way he’s brushing his thumb back and forth over my knuckles. “Do you plan on doing it again?”
He shakes his head.
We sit for a moment, and though both of us are lost in our own thoughts, we’re hyperaware of how narrow the space is that separates us.
He clears his throat, his hand tightening around mine. “I… uh… No one knows outside of here. About me, that is.”
My lips tug into a smirk. “I figured.”
“I’m sorry about freaking out on you,” he says, his voice quiet yet rough, a hint of frustration creeping through. “I… enjoyed it. Very much. It’s just hard to block out the voices in my head sometimes.”
I squeeze his hand, and he lifts his gaze to mine, his dark eyes almost black behind his mask. “You don’t have to explain. We’re in a sex club. It’s not a forever commitment.”
He swallows and ducks his head, leaving me to wonder if he’s disappointed. Before I can overthink it, he releases my hand and slides off the couch to kneel in front of me, with his hands resting on my knees. My breath catches as he looks up at me, desire burning in his eyes, and my heart beats out an eager rhythm as his hands slide up my thighs until he reaches my rock-hard bulge.
“Is this for me, Romeo?” he growls, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as he rubs me over my jeans.
I nod, shifting my hips, pushing myself into his touch.
His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath, and I wonder if this is his first blow job.
Threading my fingers into his curls, I lean forward and press my lips to his.
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” I murmur.
Planting a hand on my chest, he pushes me back with a sexy smirk, his other hand deftly popping the button on my jeans. He makes quick work of the zipper, and I lift my hips to help him gain access to my aching cock. It juts up proudly like a soldier reporting for active duty, and he locks his eyes on mine as he swirls his tongue around my head, tasting me.
“Fuck,” I groan, relaxing back into the couch.
The question of whether this is his first blow job flies right out the window; he licks a trail up the underside of my cock then takes me in his warm, wet mouth all the way to the back of his throat.
He may not be out yet, but he can deep-throat like nobody’s business.
He finds his rhythm, his hand wrapping around my base as he squeezes with the perfect amount of pressure, working me up and down.
I bite down on my bottom lip as I watch him, loving how he doesn’t take his eyes off mine as he sucks me like his favourite lollipop.
“Are you going to come down my throat, Romeo?” he rasps when he pops off my cock, a trail of saliva still connecting us.
Holy shit.
“You gonna swallow it all like a good boy, Shadow?”
“Only if you fuck my mouth and show me how bad you want me to take it.”
Christ, this man’s dirty talk is next level.
“Squeeze my thigh if it gets too much,” I tell him, running my thumb over his bottom lip.
“It’s not my first rodeo,” he says with a smirk that makes my stomach clench.
“Be careful with that smart mouth, baby,” I warn, gripping his curls tightly and guiding him back to my waiting cock. He braces his hands on my thighs and opens his mouth, drawing me inside.
