His lips curved into a smile that made my heart stutter. He bridged the gap and captured my mouth with renewed passion. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of mint and the earthy hint of the forest that clung to him like a second skin. His scent—a whiff of sweat and the subtle cologne that seemed to embody the very essence of masculinity—filled my nostrils, anchoring me to the present when everything felt possible.
Howell’s hands, strong and sure, found the hem of my shirt and lifted it with a tantalizing slowness. As the fabric whispered over my skin, every nerve in my body stood at attention. His gaze roamed over me, dark and hungry.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, brushing his fingertips over the line where tension had once made a home across my shoulders, now melting under his touch.
His thumbs skimmed the waistband of my slacks, and I moved my hips forward to encourage him. A zipper parted like the prelude to an orchestra’s crescendo. The bedroom was warm, but as the thin material slid down my legs, the cool air kissed my heated skin, and a shiver raced through me.
Howell kneeled before me, the reverence in his eyes searing me more than any touch. He removed my socks one at a time, pressing a soft kiss to each ankle. Goosebumps trailed in the wake of his lips.
My boxer briefs were the last to come off, and he eased them down with care, kissing every inch of skin he revealed. I felt cherished, worshipped, precious. He only needed a few seconds to take his clothes off and then he lifted me off the ground as if I weighed nothing and carried me to the bed. Jesus, this man would be the death of me.
I was laid bare, vulnerable in the soft glow of the bedside lamps, yet there was no room for insecurities. Howell’s tender ministrations were a balm to the scars Gerard had left on my soul. Each caress was an affirmation, each kiss a promise of something pure.
“You’re so beautiful.” Howell mapped the territory of my flesh, fingers dancing over my ribs, teasing the sensitive skin until I was writhing beneath him, endless moans spilling from my lips.
His mouth followed the trail blazed by his hands, tasting every inch of exposed skin. I arched into the warmth of his touch, his lips, his tongue. When he wrapped his lips around a nipple, sucking gently, a low growl rumbled from my throat, and I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him closer, deeper.
And Howell, with the patience of a saint and the devilish intent of a sinner, complied. He worshipped my body with an intensity that bordered on devout, igniting fires in places I’d forgotten could burn. His tongue drew patterns down my stomach, swirling around my navel, stoking the flames higher with each lap.
“Please,” I gasped, hips bucking up in silent supplication.
His hot breath against my thigh teased the edge of desperation clawing inside me. Every muscle tensed, coiled tight as a drum. With a smile promising untold pleasures, he looked up at me, and my heart stumbled and fell. I was his, utterly, completely, irrevocably.
The world blurred into a haze of heat and need as Howell closed his lips around my cock, already wet at the tip. I hadn’t expected him to be comfortable doing this right away, but he took me in with calm confidence. What a turn-on. He licked and lapped, swirled and sucked. His mouth was a cocoon of warmth, his movements deliberate, skillful, each motion designed to unravel me piece by piece.
A symphony of sounds escaped from deep moans to ragged breaths, each note underscored by the sloppy, wet noises of Howell sucking me off. Fuck, he was good at this.
“Howell…” I panted, the world narrowing to the overwhelming presence of this man between my legs. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my skin was flushed.
And then there was the sight of him—brown eyes filled with a hunger mirroring my own. It was a look of pure intent, one that spoke of his desire not just to please but also to cherish.
“Close…so close,” I murmured, teetering on the edge as Howell doubled his efforts, digging his fingers into my hips with possessive intensity.
With a cry, I came undone, and waves of release crashed over me as my cock spurted its load. Howell kept suckling me, drawing out every shuddering pulse of ecstasy until I was spent, a tangle of trembling limbs and raw nerves.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking like a man who was mighty pleased with himself—as he should be. He stretched out next to me and held out his arm, and I snuggled close.
A maelstrom of emotions welled inside me. The contrast between this selfless act and the years of Gerard’s selfish demands struck me with the force of a tidal wave. Where Gerard had taken, Howell had given—freely, completely, generously, asking for nothing but my pleasure.
Gratitude washed over me. For this man, for his kindness, for the way he saw me—not as a project or a prize but as a partner. He was healing me, closing wounds that had hurt too long.
“Thank you,” I whispered, the words inadequate to express the enormity of my emotions.
“I mean it when I say it was my pleasure.”
I put my head on his shoulder. His embrace felt so…powerful. Protective. I played with his chest hair, then ventured lower. His stomach was flat, though he didn’t have a six-pack. Not that he needed one. The man was ruggedly handsome in the best way. He’d literally carried me to the bed…and I was well over six feet tall.
He also had a really, really nice cock. It had been hard as iron the whole time but had now flagged a bit. But I intended to remedy that. I just needed a moment to recover, both physically and emotionally.
I propped myself up on one elbow, gazing down at Howell. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, the muscled contours shadowed in the soft light. A surge of warmth filled me, not only from the afterglow but also from a newfound determination. I wanted to give him the same earth-shattering pleasure he’d given me.
“Your turn,” I murmured, voice husky with desire, and I found his lips in a gentle kiss, tasting the lingering salt of my release. He hummed, lifting his hands to tangle in my hair. But I was already moving, trailing kisses over his face, his ears, his temples, every now and then finding his lips again.
“You don’t have to…” he said.
“Hush. I want to. I very much want to.”
His skin was hot under my touch, each muscle tensing as I explored farther. I nipped and sucked at his neck, drawing a deep groan from him that vibrated against my tongue.
