Page 11 of 72 Hours

I took the advantage then. I rolled myself around and scrambled up to kneel beside him, tugging at the fabric of his trousers and pulling them down from his hips. His soft black jersey briefs were a fabulous contrast against his flushed skin, and they peeled off just as easily under my determined touch. I wanted him naked, and I wanted it now!

He lay on his back underneath me, with none of that coyness that some guys have when you strip them. No, he lay there with his shirt wide open and his chest heaving, his long, bare legs stretched out along the length of my bed. He looked both confident and comfortable, like a wet dream come to reality. His eager eyes glittered like flints, and they were locked on me. His arms lay by his side, and his fists clenched gently. When I reached down to pull his shirt off properly, he shifted his upper body to help me out. Then he reached up for my hand and drew it down to his mouth. I watched, fascinated, as his tongue slipped out and licked the valleys between my fingers.

“Tanner.” It was just a breath; just a murmur. No instruction, no demand.

I gazed at him, drinking in the sight of his body laid out on my bed, the sheet creased up under his hip, shadows playing along the white cotton fabric as he clenched the muscles of his slim arse. The front of his thighs curved sweetly. Soft hairs on his skin, dark curls around his groin. He sucked softly on my fingers and shifted, getting more comfortable. What can I say? The movement made his cock bob gently against his groin, the flesh thick and swollen. It made the skin of his balls crinkle and the shape of the globes inside roll against the base of his groin.

I’d always thought unadulterated joy an unattainable urban myth, but I felt it then.

I leaned further over and pressed my mouth to his, trying to regain the taste of hot need in him and succeeding. He was saturated with it; his kiss in return was even greedier than mine.

My hands slid down his body, his hips straining up towards me, as I took his cock back into my grasp, and I started to stroke him. Both hands rolling around him, up and down, spreading the warm pre-cum around the shaft. He gasped and bit at my lip so that I pulled my kiss away, laughing softly. And still I caressed him. He cursed a few times, like he couldn’t find the right words. Once, his hand crawled up to his own hair, gripping it like an anchor to reality. I’d never enjoyed pumping a guy so much in all my life; he was a prize in my hands. I felt his desire flooding up through my fingertips and into my own body.

I was grinning like a fool by this time, and wriggled out of my own loosened jeans until I was naked too. My hands were trying to keep the contact with his arousal, but his seed leaked out onto my palms, glistening and making them slippery. I felt the shiver of disappointment in his body every time I had to loosen my grip. His eyes were fixed on mine, widening with every stroke. His face was very flushed, his chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he was panting. Seems he was trying to tell me something; ask for something, maybe. I thought I could guess what it was. I was pretty smug by then.

I licked my lips. “Niall,” I said, trying out the sound of his name in the acoustics of my bedroom. No music had ever sounded so good, and I grinned from pure pleasure. “So what now?”

His pupils were hugely dilated, but he smiled back as if he were savouring the anticipation just as deeply. “Whatever you want, Tanner.” His groan was husky, very sexy. “It’s your place, your room. Your call. I just want you.”

And with that deeply sensual sound in my ears, I nearly lost it. Any bantering reply I had in my throat turned tail and ran. I leaned down over his hips instead and took him into my mouth. I knew what I wanted; I wanted to taste him, to possess him, to draw him into me wherever and however I could. He cried out loudly, and his hand snatched fiercely at my hair. I didn’t care. I licked and sucked, and his cock nudged at the back of my mouth with barely controlled passion. It was better than any damned meal I could ever have ordered.

I think he was close to climax when he pushed me off. I didn’t take it as any kind of a rejection, just that he wanted it to last longer. He still grasped at me; I could still hear his harsh panting and the soft whimpers of need in the back of his throat. His hands ran over my flesh, and he rolled my erect nipples between his fingertips. Then he shifted his body so that he lay beside me, but with his head now at my hips and his groin achingly close to my chin. I had saliva glands at full productivity and a tongue caressed by trails of his pre-cum, so I was more than happy to go back down on him. But I also didn’t complain when he returned the favour.

His tongue was soft at the tip, with a pleasing roughness along its length; it swiped hungrily along my shaft, and I gasped with delight. It was a shock when he took almost all of me into his mouth. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not boasting, but I’ve been told in the past that I’m not small. But his nose nudged my balls as his throat tensed around me, and it was magnificent. I started to slide down that slippery slope of ecstasy right about then, and, fuck, I was loath to resist it.

I tried to hold back; I tried to keep my mind on pleasing him, and I was thrilled when I felt the familiar throb of his cock against my lips and the strangled sob from his throat that meant, in my experience, surrender was imminent.

“Tanner!” He pulled his mouth back up to the tip of my cock, gasping for breath, struggling for words. I didn’t know why he bothered. I wanted to throw myself off that damned slope and let the tidal wave of orgasm wash over me as well. But what did I know of him and his thoughts, back then?

“Is it...? I’m going to....” Yes, yes, get on with it.... “Tanner,” he groaned. “In your mouth? I mean, if you’ll take my word that I’m okay....”

He wanted to know if I’d prefer not to swallow, I realised. If I’d be disgusted or nervous of it. I couldn’t remember the last guy who’d bothered to ask at this stage, not that I wouldn’t have made my own preferences clear enough if things were going the wrong way. But I was intrigued, despite myself. Even if I hadn’t needed any more evidence that Niall Sutherland was a different kind of guy—which, being brutally honest, I was pretty sure I didn’t—his concern for me, even as he shuddered with a climax approaching in the fast lane of his nervous system, was very revealing.

I shook my head gently and tightened my lips around his cock to emphasise my eagerness. He groaned then, no more words available, and I was filled with the sudden burst of warm, viscous liquid from its tip. An eager burst, then another. Hot, thick flesh, shooting its delicious load, spattering on my tongue. I licked and swallowed gratefully. His thighs thrust up against my chin, his muscles clenched and strained, and I smelled the sweat and passion that suffused his skin.

It was all I needed to take me there too. I lifted my head from his groin and bared my neck, my eyes sliding half-closed. Then I stretched an arm down behind me to grab however much of him I could reach. My palm rested on his thick, damp hair, and I pressed his head further down on my own arousal.

“Me too,” I grunted. “Trust me.” And he obviously did. Two more thrusts of my hips and I groaned aloud with my climax, my cock throbbing with delight at being bedded in the warmest, softest place it had been for a hell of a long time. Niall’s mouth tightened around me, like mine had around him, and I swear I felt the vibration of a laugh run the length of my shaft. I don’t know for sure; I was rather occupied at the time with keeping my body on the planet and my voice below mega-decibels.

I came like the walls of Jericho must have tumbled.

THAT WAS NEVER GOING to be enough.

Believe it or not, I don’t fuck on a first “date” as a matter of habit. But that night, as Niall shifted back up on the bed to come face to face with me, my whole body still shook with desire. I was like the string of a guitar, pulled tight and then released, but still thrumming with the note. I turned unfocused eyes on to his dark, laughing gaze, and my mouth just opened for his tongue, all over again.

“I want you,” he murmured thickly, deep into my mouth. I think he’d said it a few times already, or maybe I heard it echoing in my head, which was far from clear. I was hardening again at the mere sound of his voice. From the harsh nudging against my hip, it seemed he was as eager himself.

We rolled almost instinctively into a position where I was bottom, lying on my back. Guess I didn’t care how, and I could do both, happily and with equal enthusiasm. His hands were very sure, parting my legs, stroking at my belly. He was looking down at me with those sinfully gorgeous eyes, smiling that ridiculously fascinating smile.

God, I had it bad.

“Do you have condoms?” He looked sheepish, as if the whole thing had him bemused, and also very tense, as if he were struggling to hang on to some shred of sense. Hell, I could show some responsibility, too, couldn’t I? If I could just tear my eyes from him for a few seconds....

There was stuff in my bedside drawer, though I knew I’d have to search under a pile of books and receipts and various coins to find it. It’d been a while since I’d found anyone that attracted me enough to bother. I fumbled around for condoms and lube, one arm stretched out to the drawer while I tried with the other one to keep him close. He lay on me, murmuring nonsense into my shoulder, running his tongue along the line of my muscle, deep into the armpit and down along the sinews on the inside of my arm. It all reduced me to a mess of needy, nauseous hunger.

He took pity on me eventually and took charge of the lube, popping the top of the bottle and letting the cool gel drip onto his hand. I bent my legs up and pulled my knees further apart so he could reach more easily. When his finger slipped slowly into me, I groaned aloud. He paused for a second, maybe afraid that he’d hurt me or something.

“Tanner?”