“You have permission.”
Her body understood the words before her mind did, and as she processed the words, she was already there, split on his cock as pleasure crested through her, a tidal wave that released days of denial and patience and pulsing, grinding, exquisite need. The orgasm didn’t end, roiling through her in ebbs and waves, and he fucked her through all of it, his hands gripping her ass and meeting her throbbing body with his own.
“Good fucking girl,” he said, and followed her over the edge. The sensation of him swelling as he came, the feeling of his come filling her, leaking out of her already, sent her into another, smaller wave of pleasure, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him tight against her as he pulsed into her.
He fell beside her and gathered her up into his chest; it was she who scooted them up to the pillows. They took turns stroking each other, cooing over each other. He kissed the place where he’d tied the ropes too tight and cared for the spots very gently; she thanked him for what he’d done, for how he’d treated her, for his own control. For caring for her so very much. For showing her the value in being a good girl. A good kitten. A good toy.
“Should we try that again, sometime?”
She laughed into his chest, her cheeks bright red and heated. “I bet I could go longer. Eight days. I bet I could.”
He held her tight and pulled the weighted blanket up over both of them. “Absolutely you could. My good girl.”
BLOW
Val Prozorova
I told you we should have stayed at the cheap place.”
“And the cheap place would have had perfect air-conditioning, certainly.”
“Older machines are more reliable,” Adrian drawled, sprawling beneath Neal on the bed, arms wide, legs wide, underwear and socks light against his dark legs. His shirt had ridden up to his chest, crooked and bunched, sweat already dampening the skin just beneath. “Less bullshit touch screens. Just good oldfashioned temperature control.”
There was another series of weak beeps as Neal attempted to coerce the Fujitsu above them into cooperating, and Adrian dropped an arm over his eyes with a deliberate deep sigh.
“Next time,” he mumbled, “you should listen to me.”
“Next time,” Neal replied, working his toes beneath his partner’s side to find the ticklish spot that made him squirm before setting his foot straight again. “I will not take you with me to a conference. You are a curse upon technology.”
“Hardly.”
“Hardly,” Neal repeated. “What about the car?” he asked, stepping back enough to sink to the bed, kneeling, legs on either side of Adrian’s chest where he lay.
“The car was old.”
“It was a 2007 hybrid.”
“And it’s 2017,” Adrian countered, setting one hand to Neal’s thigh and gently squeezing. The other man huffed a breath, lifting his eyebrow.
“And the stereo?”
“Played awfully,” Adrian complained, eyes still closed. “And I had nothing to do with it breaking.”
“You were present.” “That’s unfair.”
A grin that Adrian could not see, but knew was there, spread like warmth from the sun against Neal’s lips. Adrian squeezed his partner’s leg a little harder in a teasing grip.
“And you can’t complain about its replacement.” “The vinyl player?”
“Everything sounds better on vinyl.”
Neal snorted. “You sound like a hipster teen.”
“I sound like I know what I’m talking about,” Adrian pointed out, finally letting his arm slip from his sweaty forehead to rest instead against his hair, messy and bent awkwardly from lying on the pillow.
It was nearing four o’clock in the afternoon local time, and they had gotten into Singapore just three hours before. Neal’s conference was scheduled for just before Christmas, as all important business meetings usually were, determined to cancel out people’s rightfully earned and government-sanctioned days of lazing. They planned to stay a week after to justify the price of the tickets getting in and enjoy a warm Christmas rather than the sleet and snow of New York.
With recent developments, however, the plans could change.
Or the hotel would, anyway.
“You have to get off me,” Adrian sighed, licking his lips and arching up to try and dislodge his partner from him. Neal remained unmoved. “You’re too hot.”
“You know, that’s just what you told me that night you met me at that dive.”
“Did I really?” Adrian grinned, plush lips catching against crooked teeth. “I don’t remember being that suave five years ago.”
“You weren’t.”
“But the line worked.”
“So did mainlining tequila with you for three hours,” Neal reminded him. A playful slap from Adrian was met with a grin, and a deliberate maintaining of his position atop Adrian, though sweat gathered where their skin touched.
“True as the words are,” his partner continued, “it really is already too hot here without you pressing so close to me.”
“And what should I do instead?”
“Something useful,” Adrian considered, turning his head to gesture toward the heavy decorative fan hanging over the television with his chin. “You can fan me with that. That would go over wonderfully.”
Neal laughed, that warm, wonderful sound that seemed to vibrate through his bones, and shook his head.
“And if I find myself disinclined to take on the role of pool boy?”
“Then I suppose we will both melt,” Adrian mused, reasonably. “I was going to give you the royal treatment right after, but I can’t, now, I suppose.”
“Why not?”
“You’re sitting on me,” Adrian pointed out, smile wide and eyes narrowed with it. “I am helpless in my captivity.”
Neal deliberately slid back to sit over Adrian’s hips instead, and set his hand splayed over his stomach, wet from the heat generated between them. In truth, it was disgustingly hot, and would be genuinely unbearable if the hotel couldn’t fix the air-conditioning by the next morning. But the thought of moving, after a ten-hour flight and a sleepless night beforehand, seemed just that little bit worse an option, so Neal held his ground.
He splayed his fingers over Adrian’s chest, curling them to leave light marks against his skin, delighting at how different their skin tones were. He could feel Adrian’s heart, a quick beat from the heat and the pleasure of being touched this way. He had always been sensitive here—even the slightest tickle and he would be off, laughing and grumbling about it.
Even now, beneath him, Adrian made a fussy sound and dropped both his hands down to Neal’s knees in an attempt to slide him off. Adrian was always the first to mope, the first to point out an error or a flaw, and the last to go and fix it. Ironically, it was also inevitably Adrian who managed to find a solution, after Neal fumbled helplessly with whatever it was that displeased his partner at that particular moment in time. He wondered if it wasn’t a tactic to have Neal try harder, push from his introverted shell and be more objective in situations.
He would not put it past Adrian to be so devious, or so wonderful.
“That fan is probably attached to the wall.” “It could also not be attached to the wall.” “With screws and pressure sensors—” “That’s doubtful.”
“—that will go off and howl were I to attempt to remove it.”
“A genuinely clever potential precaution, but I can guarantee you that I will howl soon, should you not get off me or do something to cool me down,” Adrian told him, digging his fingers deftly behind slippery knees to tickle Neal enough to push him forward on all fours. Still close, but not pressing down to him anymore, at least.
Even so, heat pulsed between them.
Neal got a kiss as a compromise. A nuzzle when he sighed.
“What else do you suggest?” Neal asked him, brows up and light eyes seeking between Adrian’s own.
“Blow me?” came the coy reply, and Neal sno
rted. He supposed he should have expected nothing less, from a man whose staple reply—to genuine questions and displeasing situations both—were those two words. “I think I’ll try my luck with the fan,” Neal mumbled, dropping his butt back down against Adrian’s thighs while he kept his arms against the bed. He stayed that way for a while, a pleasant stretch, before sighing heavily against Adrian’s chest, and pushing to move off him, only to find his wrist snared and the other’s hooded eyes on him.
“That,” Adrian murmured, “was perfect. Do it again.”
“I didn’t even—”
“Blow again,” Adrian told him. “Just there, as you just did. Feels so damn good against wet skin. It’s perfect, Neal. Again.”
Neal laughed and shook his head, but gathering his breath, obeyed, funneling his lips and exhaling slowly against Adrian’s neck.
The other shivered, that distinct motion of pleasure, and one hand slipped from Neal’s sweaty skin to rest at the back of his head instead, twined through damp strands of hair. Neal took the cue well enough, licking his lips before taking another breath to blow against Adrian, lower now, over the sweaty expanse of dark skin just beneath his rumpled shirt, over the muscle that pulled taut in stark relief beneath.
“Who needs technology,” Adrian sighed, smile contented and eyes barely open, like a cat in the sun, as Neal grinned and drew another cool swath of breath from neck to the edge of the soaked fabric, tugged aside to present his collarbone. Neal kissed the hollow just to feel the hum that grew in Adrian’s throat from the delightful pressure of it. The fingers in his hair scraped gently over Neal’s scalp in encouragement.
“Up,” Neal told him, waiting for Adrian to sigh and arch his back, before he brought his hands to the gathered shirt to pull it off Adrian properly, tossing it to the floor. Neal slipped from his own meager clothes as well, groaning in the relief that that act alone brought. Then he bent to continue the tickling teasing that his breath wrought against the skin he knew so well.
He sighed over the little scar Adrian had gotten while playing hockey in tenth grade, raised and just a little lighter than his skin. He nosed gently above a nipple before taking it between his lips to suck. Neal didn’t respond to the demanding moan for him to touch his lover; he kept his hands firmly on the bed for balance, letting Adrian paw at him as he liked. Neal would take his time as he always did, despite Adrian’s protests, and would find the man always entirely sated even when his mumbled demands were ignored.
Neal got no greater pleasure than playing devil’s advocate with his whims. A gentle bite against his pec, just to feel Adrian jerk beneath him in surprise, before Neal breathed a path across Adrian’s chest to suck the other nipple next.
Outside the windows, barely cracked with the safety hinges that kept them from opening no farther than an inch or so, they could hear the traffic from their fifthfloor room. Nothing compared to Queens, where the humming drone was a constant backdrop to their quiet lives, but somehow still strangely comforting. A welcome white noise that lulled them to this gentle caressing, this slow rocking that started with Adrian and translated to Neal above him, first in time then counter to each other. Lips slipped over skin and laughter mingled as Neal nuzzled his lover’s chest and breathed against him as he moved lower still.
Down to Adrian’s stomach next; sucked in reflexively against Neal’s shivering breath, then allowed to relax into its soft curve again as Neal continued to breathe over him, slow and steady. Adrian drew his fingers from Neal’s hot scalp down his neck instead, catching the sweat against his fingertips between Neal’s shoulder blades. It became a give and take, cool air for a soft massage—Adrian delighting in the shivers he drew from Neal’s breath against him, Neal in the goose bumps his sighs brought out on his partner’s skin.
“Feeling better?” Neal asked him, eyes up to watch Adrian’s, though he knew they would be closed, long enough for the last cool breath to fade and the humidity to cling to him again. Adrian’s lips pressed together and parted, the tip of his tongue peeking between them before he swallowed.
“The distraction from the bloody heat is quite welcome,” he replied, smiling when Neal laughed against him, just as sweaty, just as hot and miserable in it. Though, if Neal were honest, the misery was easier to forget with Adrian under him this way, entirely relaxed, slick with sweat and pliant for him.
“Good.”
Another breath, Neal drawing his nose up Adrian’s chest again as he sighed and sat up, shifting back on his knees. He needed time to catch his breath, to bring this blissful dizziness to a manageable level before he continued. He drew a hand through his hair, pushing it off his sweaty forehead, and considered his partner beneath him.
They could take a shower, keep the water barely warm and luxuriate beneath it. They could sit on the floor, backs pressed to the heavy glass and talk, limbs tangled as water fell on them like early spring rain. They could act like children, enjoying their primitive and simple means for getting cool in a tropical climate.
They could take a shower.
Perhaps they should take a shower.
They certainly would after this, but for now it was enough to breathe against one body, touch another, and bring genuinely delightful shivers up between them both.
Adrian moaned, a tired and pleased thing, as Neal nuzzled his nose to his navel. He rolled slowly forward to press his forehead to Adrian’s stomach and breathed on him this way, the air barely skimming the sparse trail of hair that ran down beneath the waistband of Adrian’s underwear.
“Tease,” Adrian sighed, and Neal did it again, the breath shaken by a laugh as Adrian whined and tugged his hair in impatience.
Adrian was growing hard beneath the light fabric of his briefs; small darkened patches of sweat and arousal both outlined his cock. It twitched when Neal sat up enough to fold the elastic down to reveal just the head of it, then more and more as Adrian lifted his hips and allowed himself to be divested of his underwear.
It was a tangle of limbs for a moment, Adrian’s knees against Neal’s arms, as Neal pulled Adrian’s socks off too, laughter and snorted curses as they worked themselves to a semblance of comfort again. Adrian drew his knees up, spread, and Neal kissed his way down one knee to the sensitive, sweaty skin of the opposite thigh. With a drawn breath, he left a shivering trail back up to Adrian’s knee again, hand hooked beneath it to spread him a little wider.
“Tease,” Adrian groaned again, and Neal grinned, watching him.
“Is that a demand or a title?”
“God, both,” Adrian laughed, one hand up to his face, pressing over his eyes before he ran it up into his hair and slicked it back, looking down at Neal between his legs as the other looked back, coy and delighted by his own terrible pun.
“Complete my other demand first,” Adrian told him, and Neal found he could hardly deny him that.
Cool breath coiling against Adrian’s cock made it twitch again, made it arch from his belly, seeking more sensation. From its base to the tip, Neal moved achingly slow, blowing air against the slick skin and watching, wide-eyed, the response to it. Adrian was already so aroused, from the heat, from the exhaustion, from Neal being so playful and clever and entirely infuriating. Hands settled in Neal’s hair again as Adrian coaxed him closer, until not only breath, but soft lips, too, brushed just beneath the head of his cock.
“Blow,” Adrian sighed, begging. “Come on.”
Neal parted his lips just enough to press them together in a semblance of a kiss, down the length of Adrian’s cock and back up it again, relishing the little twitches of muscle, the heady smell of him, before finally opening his mouth to take the head between his lips and gently suck.
He had learned early that Adrian went weak at the knees when he went down on him. He cursed and squirmed, spread himself entirely wanton as Neal worked him with his mouth. There were days when Neal would tease him like this until Adrian would succumb to his own pleasures, weak and delighted to have Neal then turn him over and find t
he lube in the bedside drawer. Adrian would complain, of course; he would hardly be Adrian if he didn’t. But he loved being blown, he always had, and now was no exception.
“God, yes, finally.”
Muscles tensed and relaxed in Adrian’s stomach, in his thighs that pressed to Neal’s cheeks and slipped slick against them. He put his knees up over Neal’s shoulders and found they slid down his sweaty arms almost immediately with no friction to keep them hooked there. Adrian snorted, moaning as Neal hummed his own amusement, and cursed. Goose bumps showed up under sweaty skin, pleasure coursing through him, cooling and distracting him from the fact that both of them were drenched in sweat, as though caught in a passing rain shower.
“Please,” Adrian sighed, “take me deeper, come on.” Neal did, as addicted to giving head as Adrian was to getting it. His fingers curled where his mouth did not reach, and he stroked in time with how his head bobbed, either up to meet his lips as they sunk down, or following their movement to the very head and then down again to grip the base. Twisting just enough for Adrian’s voice to break free again, uncaring for the open windows or anyone beyond the door who might hear.
And in truth, what did it matter if they did?
Adrian was certain the hotel had heard much worse and seen much kinkier. The thought pulled a laugh from him that morphed to a panting moan as Neal slipped the foreskin down and tongued against the slit of his cock. A darker blush poured forth over Adrian’s nose to his cheeks, down lower still to his neck. Fumbling hands sought again for Neal’s hair, for his shoulders, to draw nail marks over the skin there and soothe them away again with a press of knuckles right after.
Kneading in pleasure, like a cat.
“God, you are so good,” Adrian praised, head back and back arched as the unrelenting teasing continued. Neal hummed his thanks and Adrian saw stars behind his eyes from the vibrations that seemed to shake him to his bones. He set a hand against his eyes, teeth bared in a grin, breath panted between them in huffs of warm delight.
“Little more,” he pleaded. “A little more, Neal, please—”
Erotic Teasers Page 17