by J P Sayle
He didn’t get any further with his perusal when Aaden stepped back. It stopped all thoughts as blood rushed south when large, bulging arms lifted up, taking the plain, black-fitted T-shirt with them, displaying his gorgeous physique and tattoos.
Greg licked his dry lips, swallowing past the lump in his throat, hoping he didn’t embarrass himself when the pain in his trousers increased.
He willed Aaden to keep going as his fingers paused at his belt buckle. His dark eyes conveyed a message Greg was all too keen to answer. Sitting up, Greg removed his jacket along with his brown-fitted shirt. He cast an eye at the old wooden chair next to the bed, hoping it was clean as he tossed his clothes on to it.
He was convinced the heat coming off Aaden’s eyes would melt a candle into a puddle faster than you could blink. Greg felt that heat scorch him, making him bolder than he’d ever felt in his life as he wiggled out of his trousers. Eager to keep going while his courage lasted, he gave his snug-fitting briefs that matched his outfit a glance.
Chewing his lips, he watched Aaden’s eyes go impossibly black as he finished removing his own clothes. Greg had a moment to wonder where the colour began and his pupils ended. They were so dark. That was until they pierced him, sharp as any needle. They stole the air from his very lungs.
Gasping, Greg inhaled sharply, taking in the gloriously aroused, naked body standing in front of him. That same arousal pointed directly at Greg as if speaking, telling him exactly what it wanted.
As he sucked on his lip, his mouth watered in anticipation of being dominated by the divining rod that was currently seeking the water that was happily pooling in his mouth. He groaned as the mattress dipped. The thought of removing his briefs was forgotten under the need to taste and touch. His hands already moved for what it wanted.
“Hey.” Greg pouted at Aaden as his hand was slapped away an inch from its target.
“Not until I say, my red-haired beauty. Only then can you touch. I’m in charge here.”
The snarled words did nothing to dampen the need clawing to escape, but Greg swallowed back his retort when Aaden’s work-roughed palms lowered to his briefs. As he traced the edges where his pale, freckled skin met the brown fabric, Greg shuddered. Goosebumps had the tiny hairs on his arms and legs stand tall and proud.
“Are you cold, my red beauty? Do you want to get under the covers?” The concern in Aaden’s voice was so at odds with the intensity of the desire swirling in the depths of his eyes that it took Greg a second to register the concern.
“No, no, I’m fine. Please don’t stop this time.” The plea fell out before he could stop it. The urge to beg further had him clamp his lips together. Greg felt his shoulders rise, tensing in anticipation of Aaden rejecting him again.
A breath wheezed out he hadn’t realised he’d been holding when Aaden moved closer.
Thank you, God
“Now what god would that be you’re thanking and for what? I haven’t even started yet. But I promise you there will be begging and most definitely thanking of the gods by the time I’m finished with you.”
The evil glint in Aaden’s eyes caught in the winter sunlight pouring through the window caused Greg to hesitate. The glinting sun hid nothing as it caressed all the glorious, hairless, golden-tattooed nakedness before him.
Shit, oh shit, sunny daylight, oh crapola.
Greg’s worry about talking out loud suddenly didn’t seem so important when an even bigger worry crashed into his lust-addled brain.
How the heck did I forget about the freckles on my cock, and that included one very fucking large, very obvious freckle that in the past made people laugh.
A bloody freckle right there on the tip of my cock.
How, how did I even think this was a good idea?
He gave his briefs a disdainful glare as he pulled back when his cock didn’t care one iota about the embarrassing freckles marking it and tried to push past the tight elastic.
He tought fast, his mind whirling with ways to get out of having to remove his briefs, and he groaned in despair when he couldn’t come up with anything plausible.
He looked up when Aaden’s warm, rough fingertip traced his brow.
“Why are you frowning? I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want.”
Aaden’s rumbling voice sent shivers up his body, making it impossible to hide his reaction. Realising he couldn’t hide his problem, Greg lowered his eyes to the bed cover, taking a fortifying breath, and with hunched shoulders, he spoke quietly.
“It’s not you. The thing is... well, it’s not a thing really, well, it is, but I’m not sure. Emm, the thing is... freckles.”
Greg grumped at his own stupid faffing. He gave Aaden ten out of ten for patience when he peeked up under his lashes to see why Aaden hadn’t interrupted. The acceptance and encouraging expression had Greg push on, attempting to explain himself without dying of mortification when the heat was spreading up his neck faster than Usain Bolt could run.
“Okay, maybe it’s better to show you the problem.” His voice quivered when Aaden’s brows disappeared faster than Speedy Gonzales under his hair.
“No, no, it’s nothing bad. Well, it could be, if you don’t like it, but…”
“Greg, please don’t take this the wrong way, but shut up and just show me.”
Aaden’s gruff demand had him stop in mid flow.
Lowering his trembling hands back to his briefs, he gave himself no time to think and quickly shimmied out of them. The fresh air had the sensitive tip standing proud, showing off its large freckle in all its glory. Not daring to make eye contact with Aaden when his excited cock bounced against his stomach, screaming look at me, look at me, Greg sat perfectly still.
His hands fidgeted at his sides, desperate to move. Greg gave a half-hearted attempt at meeting Aaden’s eyes but only managed to get to his nose. His courage failed him when he was greeted with nothing but rasping breaths that, now that he listened, seemed to be getting faster.
Stealing a look up under his lashes, he found his eyes widening at Aaden’s expression. He watched, transfixed, as Aaden slowly lowered himself to the mattress, getting as close to his cock as he could without touching. The warmth of his breath ghosted over his leaking cock, making it stand tall, preening under the attention. Groaning, Greg felt the blush that had covered his neck decide it needed to migrate south, making him cringe away. Only the large hands Aaden placed on his thighs stopped him from moving any further.
“Let me look. I wondered if your cock would have freckles on it when I stripped you on Friday. It took every bit of restraint I had not to take a peek. I take it it is this rather beautiful and bold freckle right here that has you worrying and trying to hide from me?”
A shudder rippled through Greg when no sooner the question was asked, hot wet air ghosted over him, followed by wet heat tickling the top of his slit. Aaden’s tongue slid delicately over the crown of his cock, teasing as it explored, touching every freckle, one by one.
Greg whimpered, rocking forward, seeking more.
“It’s gorgeous, Greg. I’d really fucking hoped you’d have freckles here too. I’m so hard right now for you and this sweet, delicious cock. You almost have me wanting to beg for you never to cover it again.”
The husky growl barely left his lips before he swallowed Greg down to the root. Greg’s hands leapt on to Aaden’s large shoulders as his hips jerked and jiggled in ecstasy. Aaden’s warm mouth feasted as his lips clamped tightly, sucking him harder, he was sure, than his Hoover could suck up dust.
Greg wheezed and gasped, valiantly trying not to come at the feel of the wet heaven surrounding his rock-hard cock.
The slight shift in the bed was the only warning as Aaden toppled him backwards on to the soft pillows while spreading Greg’s legs impossibly wide. Never stopping, his tongue explored the underside of his cock.
Hissing, Greg tried to pull back when Aaden nibbled. His teeth were just the right side of painful, making his eyes cross and
roll back into his head.
“Oh, fuck, shit, Christ, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop. Argh, God. Please don’t stop.”
Greg pushed his heated cheek into the pillow, dragging it closer. Shoving it into his mouth, he let out an almighty scream as Aaden chewed on the head of his cock before taking him all the way to the back of his throat. Aaden swallowed repeatedly till Greg lost his mind and his load down his throat.
“Motherfuckerrrrrrrr, oh Jesus.”
Flopping back, Greg tried to swallow past the dryness in his scratchy throat. Giving up, he begged instead.
“Water, I need water, please.”
His scratchy chicken voice earned him a chuckle before the bed shifted and his mouth was devoured. Greg’s eyes widened before his own cum exploded on his taste buds, making him wail louder than a dog in heat. He chased Aaden’s tongue, seeking more of his own essence. He felt his cock try to kick back to life as Aaden deepened the kiss. Greg groaned in disappointment when Aaden eventually pulled back after one final swipe of his tongue on his.
Greg’s lips spread across his face when he caught what could only be described as a self-satisfied smirk on Aaden’s face. Greg couldn’t help himself as he offered up a cheeky comment. “It might not have been water, but it sure as hell quenched my thirst.”
Aaden’s burst of laughter had him squirming.
“I’ll go get your water, my red beauty, because I’m nowhere near finished with you.”
The cocky swagger Aaden did as he jumped off the bed had the twitch back in his cock. Looking down in disbelief, Greg complained as it started to swell under the threat of more.
“He’s going to kill me.” His whine was met by a loud shout from the bathroom.
“You bet your freckled cock I am.”
Booming laughter floated into the bedroom, followed by the sound of the tap. Hiding his warm face in the pillow, Greg mentally slapped himself over the head as his giggle escaped.
He likes my freckled cock.
Aaden found himself humming as he filled the glass in the bathroom sink, thankful he’d left it there last night when he’d felt too lazy to take it back downstairs.
A glorious freckled cock. Fuck.
He’d been worried there for a moment Greg had something really wrong with him. He was going to tan his arse for frightening ten years off his life, but just not today. He didn’t want to scare him away with the kink he enjoyed, not after he’d finally got a taste of him.
Cool your jets there, matey boy. Greg isn’t yours just yet. You still have to explain the whole soulmates thing.
Taking a deep drink of the cold tap water, he swallowed back the panic trying to rise when his pulse kicked up a gear at thoughts of Greg not wanting a bar of what they would need to talk about, and seriously.
He gave his angry cock a hard stare as it pulsed, dripping on to the tiled floor, oblivious to his need to calm the fuck down.
Come on, you need to behave. Slow and easy this time. I have to talk first.
Muttering to himself, he let his pulse settle before walking back to the bedroom. As soon as he stepped back into the bedroom, he realised he didn’t stand a fighting chance.
Greg lay sprawled just as he’d left him, only his face was now trying to hide in a pillow. A beautiful full-body blush coated his delicate skin, showing off every inch of his lithe form. The pale winter sunlight reflected off the golden-red hairs coating his arms, legs, and the deep red hair trimmed neatly around his cock. He had a moment’s thought about asking Greg to shave when he shook the idea off when he noticed how the hair made the freckles stand out more boldly.
Hell no, I love those bloody things.
The hair stays exactly where it is.
He moved across the bare wooden floorboards, the creaking letting Greg know he’d returned, but the face stayed firmly planted in the pillow, hiding.
Aaden sat on the corner of the mattress. As an afterthought, he grabbed his discarded T-shirt, plonked it into his lap, and pushed his cock down. He gave a loud internal sigh before shouting for Max, knowing it was the right thing, even when his cock wept in defiance.
Greg’s head shot of the pillow, making the glass he held tip towards the bed.
“Shit!”
Aaden jumped up, splashing cold water down his naked chest. The icy cold was not refreshing on his naked flesh. He shuddered, grabbing at the fallen top. He swiped at his chest, glowering at Greg.
“What the heck are you jumping about like that for? Shit, I nearly soaked my brand-new bed. At least let me christen it with something more exciting than water.” Blowing the hair out of his eyes, Aaden watched Greg’s sky-blue eyes darken like the angry stormy churning sea. They swirled, changing colour as his brows pinched together.
“You were speaking to your cat again, weren’t you?” Greg’s finger drilled into the air as he spoke angrily.
“How the fuck can you hear that?” Aaden demanded.
He placed the glass down before he did something stupid, like throw it at the newly painted wall. Unsure why he was shouting at Greg, he chewed his fingernail, trying to keep his mouth shut. The real culprit to blame for all of this mess had yet to make an appearance.
He knew Max had heard him, but that didn’t mean anything under the current situation. Princess was, it seemed, his first priority. Aaden balled his hands, shouting again, watching Greg’s face to see if he could really hear.
“Will you stop bloody doing that?” Greg’s angry demanded as he sprang naked off the bed, grabbing at his clothes.
Aaden sprinted across the bare floorboards, feet slapping. It alerted Greg, making him whirl round, hands raised. Ignoring them, Aaden pulled the shirt out of Greg’s hand and threw it back on the chair.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Aaden’s angry snarl received a raised cock and a nose tilt as Greg poked his small finger at Aaden.
“I’m getting dressed. Then you, you big lug, are going to explain what the fuck is going on.” The slight tremble in Greg’s body and quivering, timid voice had Aaden take a breath, only for the scent of cum and lemongrass to kick his large arse. Visions swam into his mind, pouring out of the broken box. His legs wanted to buckle under the onslaught. Staggering back, he aimed for the bed, praying Max would come as reality merged with the past.
Óláfr slammed his mouth against those tempting lips, arching into Magnus, his sturdy body bowing under the driving urges.
Sharp snapping teeth seemed to be ripping at his body and soul, tearing him apart, leaving him in tatters on the floor at Magnus’s feet. Óláfr stumbled forward, aiming for his sleeping chamber. His legs wobbled as they landed in a heap amongst the fur pelts. He turned at the last minute to ensure he didn’t crush Magnus’s dainty body beneath his.
Moving with care, he distracted them both by deepening the kiss while he eased into Magnus’s body. The heat was all-encompassing. It spread through his system like the lightning that lit the sky when the storms came. His eyes all but crossed as they rolled into the back of his head. Gently easing out, he pushed back in, letting the heat invade him as the tightness stole his breath, forcing him to still. The sensations consumed his mind and made the world disappear with one exception, his life force, his soulmate, Magnus.
His body slid sinuously against the slick, smooth skin under his, rocking them both, creating friction on Magnus’s pulsing desire. Óláfr propelled faster when the cries from Magnus’s lips filled his mouth. He felt the strength of his body pushing them both to where they needed to go. His lips didn’t release Magnus’s, and he felt liquid heat pooling between their bodies as Magnus’s body became unbearably tight, making Óláfr’s body respond to Magnus. The overwhelming urge to mark his territory was too much to resist, and Óláfr spilled his seed inside of Magnus. The scent of their combined essence coated the thickening air as it sparked with the flames of their desire. Óláfr was sure he could hear it crackling louder than the wood burning on the fire.
Sparks ignited
in his chest, something all-powerful pulling him into the bright flames of the fire raging through him, consuming him. In its wake, something strong and powerful dug deep inside him, feeling their influence take hold, surrounding him. He felt as mighty as the oak and fir trees that covered the Isle. The roots taking hold and planted firmly into his soul. As his feelings settled, Óláfr could sense the calm overcome him as his body accepted the inevitability of the connection. A connection he had somehow created with Magnus, even against his will.
Aaden willed his mind to let go of the images, feeling his body strain. Sweat beaded on his skin as he fought to hold on, to shake off the past and not drown in Óláfr’s emotions.
Not yours, not yours, not real.
“I’m coming. Hold on, Aaden. I’m coming, listen to me. Breathe. Come on, this isn’t your first rodeo. Breathe for me, Aaden.”
The reassuring, familiar voice lulled the turmoil for a second before cold, clammy, trembling fingers lifted his face up.
“Aaden, open your eyes now. Do as I say. Or else I’m going to kick your big motherfucking arse from here to kingdom come and back. I mean it. Open your goddamneyes right this minute.”
The wailing, panicked screeching had Aaden struggling to lift his eyelids, which felt as if they had twenty-pound weights attached to them. If only to stop the noise Greg was making from splitting his head open wide.
“Please, stop… Screeching.” His raspy demand fell on deaf ears.
“Screeching, I’ll give you screeching. You’ve been sitting there like a fucking zombie, staring into fucking space for the last five minutes with eyes as blank as my last cheque. Then I start hearing your bloody cat calling like I have my bloody phone on speaker, telling you to hold on, that he’s coming, and you want me to stop screeching.”
The wail died as he watched Greg wearily prance to the chair he’d put the glass of water on and brought it to him, thrusting it into his hand.