“For my thanks for your very thoughtful gift, I used it and created living art for you,” he says gravely.
He turns, and I burst out laughing. On the sleek skin of his back is a black arrow that starts at the middle of his spine and ends up at the crack of his pert backside.
“What is that?”
He pouts over his shoulder. “I really fear that you are not a fan of the arts, Reuben. This piece of superb artwork is titled, ‘The Road to Extreme Pleasure’.” He winks. “It has the subtitle, ‘Xavier’s Bottom’.”
I want to say something funny, but words dry in my mouth. He’s lithe and coated in muscle with not a spare inch of flesh.He’s impossible to resist and I abruptly stop trying. I step closer and run my hand down his spine, feeling him shudder under my fingertips. Then, almost before I realise I’m doing it, I bend and run my tongue up the path my fingers traced. I stop at his neck where I nose under his hair, inhaling deeply. He smells fresh and warm and makes my mouth water.
He spins in my arms and stares up at me for a long few seconds. Then he surges up and kisses me. The heat is immediate, and I groan, seizing his shoulders and pulling him even closer. I force his mouth open and tangle our tongues together, feeling his hands tugging at me frantically. When I finally pull away, my lips are swollen and coated with his saliva. I send my tongue over them, tasting him, and he shivers before grabbing my shirt and pulling me back into him.
His hands are trembling as he starts on the buttons.
“Okay?” I ask immediately.
He nods, all his attention on my shirt. “I’m just desperate to get your clothes off.” He makes a moue of displeasure as he fumbles a button. “It’s like a fucking straitjacket. Did your jailor dress you today?”
“I wish I were in prison. It’s got to be more peaceful than this hotel with all these unannounced guests.”
“Do you need announcements? Are you the king now?”
The fabric tears, and I tut. “Fucking hell, I need that shirt.”
“I’ll buy you another one, pretty baby. I’ve got Jez’s credit card.” I grimace at the name, and he rolls his eyes. “Oh, save it. You’re about to getverylucky. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Gift horse? You’re more like one of the four horses of the apocalypse.”
He starts to laugh, not even remotely offended, and he’s so bright and charming that he makes the smile hurt on my face. Istep back. Ignoring his immediate protests, I finish unbuttoning my shirt and shrug it off, letting it flutter to the floor.
“I’ll do my own clothes.” He pouts, and it’s far too cute. “I can’t afford the tailor’s repair bill if I let you do it.”
“It’s from John Lewis, Reuben. Not Marc Jacobs.” He laughs at my expression, but the humour fades as I strip the rest of my clothes off.
“You’re so bloody hot,” he breathes, licking his lips.
“Not as hot as you.”
It’s the truth. I lack his lithe grace, and my body is scarred with reminders of the job I do—the pits and grooves of old shrapnel, the scars of long-forgotten falls. He’s the complete opposite—his body clean, fresh, and touched only by the sun.
I step close to him, and he watches me intently, a flush over his cheekbones.
“Now it’s your turn,” I say huskily. I trace a line from his tight abs to the happy trail of golden-brown hair that runs from his cute belly button and into his jeans.
His cock pushes against the denim, and I cup the length. He groans, his mouth going slack, and his eyes riveted on my hand as I unbutton his jeans and reach in. He’s not wearing underwear, and I moan in approval as I curl my fingers around his dick and find it already damp with precome. The flush on his face begins to spread down to his chest.
It seems like years since I kissed him, so I take his mouth again, cupping his arse and pulling him tight against me. He wriggles and writhes, his breath already jerky.
“Fuck,” I breathe into his mouth before kissing him again. He promptly winds his arms around my neck, keeping me close. I can’t keep my hands still. They roam over him, touching the sleek, soft skin of his back and back down to cup his arse and all the while we’re kissing—deep, filthy kisses with tongues and spitand breaths panted into open mouths. It’s like we’re consuming each other.
I abruptly lose interest in stripping him slowly. Instead, I tug off his clothes and toss them carelessly to the floor. Unexpected movement catches my eye and I freeze as adrenaline pulses through me. I catch our reflections in the mirror and relax slightly as I realise that’s what I saw. But my heart continues to race as I notice the colour on my cheeks and the silvery haze in my eyes. I don’t recognise myself.
Ignoring what I’m seeing, I grasp Xavier’s shoulders and turn him to face the mirror. I kiss his neck, and he groans as he gazes at his reflection.
“That’s so hot,” he mumbles, arching his neck so I have a better angle for kissing. He reaches back and twines his fingers in my hair. “Harder,” he orders.
I chuckle, opening my mouth over the tendon before biting down on it. His head flies back just narrowly avoiding breaking my nose. “Again,” he commands and his tone goes straight to my cock.
I ram against him, feeling the plush softness of his arse cradle my aching cock.
