by Zoe Lee
Chapter 13
Gavin
The next morning, I woke up to find Eliott beside me, reading something on his phone peacefully, and I scrubbed my hands over my face and yawned until my jaw cracked.
“Morning,” he murmured.
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I always wake up starving. I could make omelettes.”
He scratched his cheek, nails rasping over his beard stubble. “I should’ve known that you wake up raring to go a million miles an hour. I’d love omelettes, as long as it’s okay if I stay here and finish this chapter. It’s really engrossing,” he added sheepishly.
Snickering, I told him to stay there and went to make omelettes, then brought them back to him, asking him about what he was reading. His eyes were hazy and bemused, and he took about one bite every minute as if he were still mostly sleeping, which was adorable.
Except that it turned out, Eliott relaxed on the weekends. He admitted that he usually worked ten hours a day, sometimes longer if he was really busy, and so his weekends were his only chance to catch up on sleep and be lazy. It was rare for him to even have plans more than a couple times a month. I understood the desire, but after a morning of doing nothing but taking showers and lounging on the couch watching more Riverdale, I was getting antsy.
I wasn’t one of those people who constantly had plans because I hated being alone with my own thoughts or something, I just had tons of energy and loved doing things. Work was fun and kept me on my toes, so it didn’t feel like drudgery to earn a paycheck. So that didn’t mean I had to squeeze in all my fun when I wasn’t working, and it wasn’t draining.
“Do you want to do something?” I suggested when the episode ended and the countdown to auto-play the next one started. “We could… I don’t know, go play pool.”
“I’m good here,” Eliott said, crunching on a sweet potato chip.
The next episode began and I put my head on his shoulder, then laid my hand on his stomach. The muscles jumped under me, and the mood changed, that amazing, quiet tension as desire rose. I nuzzled his neck, and he put down the chips, then wrapped an arm around me, humming softly. Once he shifted his hips closer, I lifted my head and kissed him.
“So you’re done watching TV?” he murmured, cradling my face and anchoring me.
“Uh huh,” I agreed, then dragged him down over me as I tumbled onto my back. While I absolutely wanted him, I knew it was also a distraction technique, and I knew I’d need to figure out a way for us to spend time together that didn’t make me restless. But… later.
“Never let it be said I don’t pay attention to my date,” he said with a soft laugh, then dipped down to kiss me again. He took his time, diving deeper into the desire swirling between us with every kiss, nestling his hips into mine as our legs twined together.
When he shifted to savage my neck with his teeth, I cried out, “God yes.”
He worked his hips like he was inside of me, and when I got my hands under his shirt, his skin was overheated, that perfect almost-sweaty showing how much he wanted me. He reared back to tear his shirt off impatiently, ruining his neat hair, and pushed my sweater up to my armpits so he could nip over my chest and down to my jeans. I thought he would tear open my fly and devour me in one gulp, that was how hungry and focused he was.
But instead he nipped and nuzzled at my hardon through the layers. I threw my hands over my head and braced my palms on the arm of the couch, getting enough leverage to buck up into his mouth. I was gasping, my cock leaking and twitching, trying its best to burst through my layers of clothing to get into his talented mouth.
Finally he had mercy and lifted his head to work my jeans open, then stood up and stripped them and my briefs off me single-mindedly, my cock slapping my stomach. I looked down at the picture I made, the head of my cock flushed and wet, my thighs spread and trembling. When I looked up, he was watching me and shoving off the rest of his own clothes, his chest heaving, and I had never seen him so unraveled and uncivilized.
“Fuck, you’re sexy,” I laughed breathlessly. “C’mon, what do you want to do to me?”
“What can I do to you?” he countered just as breathlessly.
It hit me that we’d never had the sex preferences discussion. Usually I had hookups where all of that was laid out in app profiles, all of the mystery removed in favor of clarity.
“I’m not lying with my cock out and listing off all of my kinks,” I said in exasperation.
His nostrils flared as if he’d enjoy that. I made a mental note in all caps and underlined it. “How about you get over here and do whatever you’ve been imagining since we got here last night? I’m giving enthusiastic consent for anything vanilla. You want kink, that needs a conversation, and I am way too hot for you to think right now, Eliott, please—”
Before the plea was fully past my lips, he started to move. He got onto the far end of the couch and urged me up and onto my hands and knees, facing away from him. My hands returned to brace me against the arm of the couch and my head dropped like a stone between my shoulders when his hands cupped my ass, a groan ripping out of my depths.
The first touches were quick little kisses across my lower back, then down one ass cheek and the back of that thigh. I hissed out a swear as he skipped my balls and crack and just did the same thing on the other cheek and thigh. I thought he’d chuckle or tell me to be patient. Instead, he paused, breathing hard against the top of my spine. Too wound up to be subtle, I tilted my ass up, hoping to get his mouth where it clearly wanted to go.
But he didn’t, his hands just wrapped around my calves as if to steady himself.
A thought struck me, and it seemed absurd until I realized how hard he was breathing.
“If you don’t rim me in the next fifteen seconds, I’m going to make you watch me blow my load all over your leather cushions,” I threatened him, still having enough sense left to know that he needed to get out of his own mind and the fastest way was to challenge him.
Chapter 14
Eliott
This was going to kill me.
I was ravenous, and Gavin Sycamore was going to kill me.
There was nothing in my head but input from my senses, swirling around inside me and making me dizzy and overwhelmed in a mindless, insanely pleasurable way I’d never experienced. He was spread open, completely unashamed of his nudity and body and what he wanted, offering himself up to me like a feast. And with one sassy threat, he vanquished all of my uncertainty over the sad fact that I’d never done this before, and so I… feasted.
The noises he made as I tried out every stupid-looking motion, speed, and style I’d ever seen in porn, and imagined alone at night, only spurred me on and made me hungrier. As I pushed my tongue harder and faster, I realized that I could use my hands to pull him apart and get even closer, practically suffocating myself in his ass in my quest to get deeper.
He was crying out, his spine twisting, and I knew he’d shoved one hand down beneath him to stroke his perfect cock. He swayed, adjusting to the new weight distribution now that he was only held up by his knees and one hand, and I swayed with him. Shudders wracked his body, and when I slid my hands over his balls wet with my spit, they were tight, like a bicep bulging in preparation to throw a punch. My feasting grew even more frenzied in response; I wanted him to blow his load all over my cushions like he’d threatened. I wanted it to sink into the pristine leather, a reminder of this ecstatic experience.
“That’s it, you fucking dirty man,” he shouted. “Make me come on your tongue!”
It was the first time in my life that I was happier to speak with actions instead of words. I was happy to give up the ability to reply explicitly in kind, in favor of groaning and putting every ounce of effort and desire into the act. I couldn’t resist sending my fingers out like tendrils from his balls onto his shaft, just wanting to feel it strain and throb.
“Eliott,” he whimpered, so much packed into my short name.
My fingers gathered around his ti
p as he exploded and I felt his come splash against them as if it were inside my own body. Something in me gave in and I reared up on my knees, both hands gripping his hips as if nothing else would save me, and I shouted out wordlessly, brokenly, as I came over his ass as if it was the only thing I was made for.
I collapsed against him, then dragged him down to the couch over me, shaking and riding my ass down onto his come that had indeed landed on the leather cushions. I’d never felt so torn apart or exposed by sex, never held so hard to someone in the aftermath.
“Okay,” Gavin was murmuring when I came back to myself, “you’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay,” I said stupidly, craning my head down as he dug his chin into the soft place between my shoulder and armpit to meet my look. “I’ve never come like that.”
“Well, feel free to practice on me anytime,” he told me, eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, his lips parted and fuller like he’d bitten them once or twice.
I breathed a soft chuckle against those lips and kissed him, lazy and just because.
He pulled back and wriggled into a more comfortable position, his legs sliding outside of mine, his elbows planting along my ribs. He folded his hands on my diaphragm and rested his chin there, now on an angle with his head tilted as his eyes roamed over my face.
“What?” I asked, and if I hadn’t been so satisfied, it might’ve been a little defensive.
But my hand couldn’t help itself, and smoothed lightly along his back and hip.
“You’re…” he began. “Surprising.” My hand smoothed again, up to his delicate shoulder blade this time, where my fingers walked along its sharp edge, stuck up because of how he lay. “I couldn’t explain why I was so attracted to you the day we met. You’re not the type of man who usually draws my attention. Except now I think maybe you are.”
I considered that, and wondered if I should echo that I had had the same feeling about him. If I should say I wasn’t sure I’d liked him much that first day either, but was still so strongly drawn to him that it overrode my usual caution. But while I’d admitted I didn’t understand why a daredevil like him would be attracted to me, he’d never quite answered.
To be fair, we’d been in the middle of my office and the timing was bad. Now I could find out without fishing for compliments, in the comfort and privacy of my house.
“Oh?”
His mouth crooked as if he knew I was fishing anyhow.
“You can learn an awful lot about a man by the way he fucks,” he claimed.
I frowned, not sure where this was going and disappointed he hadn’t said something more meaningful, and pointed out, “This was the third time we’ve been together.”
“Yeah, but I just learned that you can’t possibly be as… buttoned-up as you can act.”
A burst of panic hit me, as memories of casual, harsh words from the darker moments of my own life ran through my mind. My body stiffened and my first instinct was to grab his arms and shove him aside, to deny him in the most imperial, buttoned-up voice I had.
But he didn’t give me a chance, or maybe I waited too long to seize it.
He went on, “It doesn’t seem like you like that idea. That’s okay. I’m going to prove it.”
The sheer audacity had me scoffing, my body softening back into the sofa again. “I can’t imagine what you think you’re going to prove. Maybe I’m… earthier during intimacy than you’d expect, but I promise, I’m precisely who you think I am: a boring, kind of snobby lawyer. One who likes opera and running on treadmills and gets his taxes done a month early.”
Gavin grinned at me, not the sweet-laced smiles I’d gotten so far on this long date, but that first grin he’d favored me with when we met. Insolent and full of unrestrained glee.
“I bet I can get you to do something dangerous and reckless,” he proclaimed, practically bouncing to his knees. His hands spread across my thighs casually, his eyes bright and glinting. “After all, you got me to spend an entire morning doing nothing at all.”
There was nothing dangerous or reckless in me, even if I wanted there to be. Which I definitely did not. My life was ordered and practical, and I happened to enjoy it very much.
Yet that insolence was like a siren call. “I very much doubt that.”
“What if I gave you the chance to make me fall in love with something boring?”
Blood ran hot through me, stirring my cock, exacerbated by his eyes on mine, delighted and so damn sure of himself, and there was no way I could ignore the challenge.
I was finding more and more things about him to like, and felt like I was starting to understand him better, even if I still didn’t understand what he saw in me exactly. But I already knew for sure that I loved the way he challenged me. I loved when it wasn’t easy for me to win, and I wanted to succeed at this, even if I didn’t know what this was yet. He clearly loved being challenged too, or he wouldn’t be daring me like this. I took it as a sign that he wanted to see if that was enough to overcome our fundamental differences.
“You’re going to regret this and eat your words,” I claimed, pushing up onto my hands so that we were almost nose-to-nose. “I’m going to bore the shit out of you, Gavin.”
“Fabulous,” he said blandly, “I’m going to terrify the shit out of you.”
He darted in and kissed me, pushing his tongue into my mouth as if he were already claiming his victory fuck, and I couldn’t help but catch the back of his head in one of my hands to tug him even closer. The kiss was brash and unrelenting, my cock rising more.
“And since I’m an awesome guy and you hate traditional dates, instead I’ll take you somewhere reckless and dangerous, and then you take me somewhere boring,” he explained. “I’ll have three tries and you’ll have three tries. And we’ll see what’s what.”
“If it’s a bet, what will I win?” I fired back as I grabbed his hips and brought him over my lap again, palming one of his perky asscheeks and using it to guide him in a lazy grind. “How about… if I win, you have to come to my firm’s annual work party as my date.”
The idea made his face screw up in disgust, no doubt understanding that it would be black tie, bland finger foods, bragging, Botox, and a string quartet in a banquet room.
But he went where I guided, his cock hardening alongside mine. “Sure, sweetheart,” he said, the endearment sarcastic with his self-confidence, “but when I win, you skydive.”
It was a bridge too far, but I couldn’t back down. “Sure, sweetheart,” I mimicked.
“We’ll shake on the bet later,” he said, moaning when I wrapped my arms around his back to drag him closer, our bodies locked against each other beautifully.
“How about,” I suggested conversationally, negotiating while naked with such an irreverent man doing amazing, barbaric things to me, “we come on it later?”
Gavin started to laugh at my terrible joke, but it turned into a hiss of pleasure when I sucked his neck again, taking fierce pleasure in the thought of marking him up. We were only half-hard, having just come, but that didn’t mean anything; we stayed interlocked, kissing and testing each other’s skin with nips and sucks, our chests and abs getting slick.
When he groaned a complaint that his knees hurt from his legs being bent like a frog for so long, I helped him up and brought him to my room, teasing him about being old. He retaliated by sitting on the edge of my bed, yanking me in by the hips, and swallowing my cock. I threaded my fingers through his hair and widened my stance to stay still and strong.
But I lost that battle when he popped off me to say, “One of my kinks is face fucking, if you didn’t figure it out last time because your big brain overthinks and plays tricks on you.”
“Yeah, well, one of mine is coming on my partners,” I tossed back unthinkingly, pushing his mouth all the way down onto my cock again, “so don’t complain when I pull out to come all over that pretty neck of yours.”
I felt his praising groan and took him at his word, fucking his face slow
and deep for what felt like the best kind of forever. Once I felt my orgasm finally approaching, this one a lazy, powerful roll of thunder across a wide plain, I did what I’d promised and pulled out. Then I cupped his chin and lifted it high to expose his slender throat and sharp Adam’s apple.
“Shit,” he rasped, his hand flying over his cock while I worked mine almost absently, knowing the orgasm would come from the visual of him, flushed and nearly there.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I praised, “give me everything you have left.”
“Faster,” he begged me, his eyes fixed to my shoulder and upper arm, which were moving rhythmically in time with my hand on my cock. I sped up for him and quickly his eyes rolled back in his head and he spurted over his hand. Just like I’d known, watching him brought on my orgasm, and this one was long lazy ribbons drizzled onto his neck.
We were both breathing hard, my eyes no doubt as fuzzy with orgasm as his.
I bent down and caught his mouth in another lazy kiss, this one slow and sticky as molasses, traces of my come on his tongue, and I’d never felt more satisfied or more relaxed with a partner as I did right then. How could I not, when he met my challenges in bed too?
“Shit, my legs are like those noodles waiting for me,” he laughed as he staggered into my bathroom a minute later. He whipped one of my hand towels off the bar, got it wet, and slowly wiped up my come in steady strokes as if he were shaving.
His eyes were on mine in the mirror knowingly.
I joined him at the sink so I could wash my hands.
“Come on, I’ll make us a very late lunch,” I said.
‘Without getting dressed first!” he gasped dramatically. “Is eating naked a kink too?”
I rolled my eyes, even though I was suppressing a smile, and opened a dresser drawer to pull out some pajama pants. “I’ve never eaten naked. Do you want a pair?”