The Devil's Breath
Page 21
Birch wanted to wrap Henri in his arms, but he didn’t want to accidentally press on the bruising on his back. He swept hair away from Henri’s face, and his fingers drifted down to Henri’s ear, where he caressed the helix between thumb and forefinger.
Enjoying the gentle ministrations to his throat, Birch lifted his chin, allowing Henri greater access to the entire length of his neck, an invitation Henri didn’t waste.
The tender fondling continued down the length of Birch’s neck to his chest and back again. As Henri wrapped a warm, scratchy hand around his erection, Birch drew a sharp inward breath but failed to stay the long, slow, thrust that pushed him through Henri’s fist.
Henri smiled. “Not the smoothest hand job you’ll ever have, but the lotion is doing double duty.”
Birch groaned in frustrated pleasure. He wanted to immerse himself in Henri, bask in the man whose mere presence brought every sense inside Birch to attention, the man who excited emotions so deep, Birch had previously been unaware they even existed. But the physical plane was all they had.
He enjoyed a few more strokes before resting his cheek against Henri’s. “God, Hen, I just want to feel you from the inside out. I want you all around me.”
Henri rubbed the sides of their noses together. “Have we got a condom and lube?”
The practicality of Henri’s question snapped Birch from the world of emotion he’d been drifting through. He stopped and drew back far enough to focus on eyes so darkened by desire there was only a slim ring of iris left surrounding a sea of pupil. He stroked the side of Henri’s head. “Are you up for that?”
Henri’s grin was wicked. “Did you think I only topped?” The mischievous sparkle in his eyes suggested he was purposely misinterpreting Birch’s question.
Birch made a show of clearing his throat. “I was referring to your injuries, but that too.”
“Yes. Now back to my previous question.” Henri raised questioning eyebrows.
Birch retrieved the necessities from his bag, and when he turned to see Henri’s sweatpants landing on the bedcovers by Henri’s feet, Birch set the condoms and lube on the bedside table before stripping off his own sleep pants. He slid in beside Henri and kissed him.
Aware this would be the first time Henri had allowed himself to be touched this way in years, Birch forced himself to a level of attentiveness that awakened senses of his own that had lain dormant for some time.
His concentration took in the rhythm of Henri’s muscles relaxing and contracting as he stroked Henri’s erection, the changes in his breathing as he ran a lubed finger around his rim, sliding and tapping until the pucker began to smooth with relaxation. The way Henri nuzzled at his cheek with a breathy intake when he inserted a finger made Birch’s cock flex, and his own hole clench with desire.
Birch wanted this man as he’d wanted no other, but he forced himself to a patience barely restrained by the knowledge of Henri’s flightiness. He stroked, sucked, kissed, and licked until Henri rolled onto his back, urging Birch between his legs, signalling his readiness.
Surprised at Henri’s choice of position, given the bruising on his back, Birch silently capitulated. He donned a condom and slicked himself up, plying another application of lube to Henri.
Holding Henri’s legs up, Birch watched his face for any signs of pain or apprehension as he entered Henri. When Henri winced, Birch stopped and, leaning over him, licked and nipped Henri’s lips before drawing him into a kiss.
With his head lowered to Henri’s, their noses almost touching, breaths intermingling, he continued. Soon they moved together, gentle movements accompanied by slow kisses, fingers drifting through hair, over cheeks. A firmer touch from one was echoed back with equal strength. Soft nibbles along a collarbone, the sucking of a nipple accompanied by a groan of supplication.
Using his lower legs to pull Birch deeper, Henri reflected the demand in a kiss, pushing an unrelenting tongue into Birch’s mouth. Exchanging puffs and pants between increasingly hard kisses, Birch met Henri’s unspoken request for more.
Altering his position slightly, Birch lifted against the legs Henri kept wrapped around him. The change of angle drew a moan from Henri’s very depths that seemed to cause something inside Birch’s chest to release. He thrust unremittingly into Henri, but seeing a tear escape Henri’s eye and slide down the side of his face into his hair, Birch slowed.
“Keep going!” Henri’s urgent whisper was followed by a hitch in his breath.
With renewed vigour, Birch pounded into Henri, trying to kiss away the tear at the same time, but seconds later, another tear followed the trail of the first.
“Harder,” Henri demanded.
Henri’s hand went to his erection and pumped as Birch pushed him onward from within. Henri’s cry of agonizing ecstasy peeled from him as his release splattered onto his chest. His internal muscles grabbed and squeezed Birch as he continued to thrust, inducing blinding brightness in Birch’s brain as his orgasm overtook him.
With the effects of his orgasm receding, Birch became aware of Henri’s ragged breathing. Rising, he looked at Henri’s face, tight with restrained emotion. “Hen?”
Henri’s eyes opened, and a tangle of emotions stormed through them so fast that Birch only managed to identify the intensity of them. He offered a reassuring smile, but tears streamed down the side of Henri’s face nonetheless, and he wept.
Withdrawing, Birch moved to Henri’s side and disposed of the condom before drawing Henri into an embrace, being careful of his back. Henri allowing Birch to hold him eased any apprehension Birch might have otherwise had about the origins of the rush of emotion.
Birch marvelled at the long way Henri had come in the short time they’d known each other. The image of Henri’s fear the first time Birch had touched him lay in sharp contrast to the faith Henri now offered.
Instead of running from Birch as he’d done almost every time previously, Henri was letting him in, allowing him to support and offer comfort. In Birch’s heart, it affirmed what he had already suspected—Henri loved him. No words could possibly substitute for this moment they shared. He was overwhelmed by the trust Henri placed in him, despite all that which Russell had worked so hard to strip away.
Henri’s crying mellowed to a sniffle. “He’s dead. It’s really over this time.”
His own experiences with Russell left Birch feeling relieved that he’d never have to deal with Russell again. He couldn’t imagine the relief Henri felt. A few minutes crying, undoubtedly triggered by the orgasm he’d just had, was only the beginning. Birch wanted to be the one who Henri came to for comfort. Hell, Birch wanted to be the one who Henri came to for more than just comfort—he wanted to be Henri’s go-to for fun, love, sex, problems, sleeping, and all of life’s ups and downs.
He kissed Henri’s forehead. “Hen?”
“Hmm?” Henri sniffled and wiped his nose and eyes with the backs of his injured hands. When Birch didn’t speak, Henri drew back and pinned him with red-rimmed eyes that threatened an emotionally violent response depending upon what was said. “What?”
Birch struggled to keep his smile at bay. “Will you live with me?” In a blink, the threat in those blue-grey eyes was replaced with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Henri stared at him until Birch chuckled and gave him a little jolt. “Breathe, Henri.”
Henri exhaled and gave a small shake of his head. He rolled away from Birch to rise and sit on the edge of the bed. The bruising on his back was becoming ever more colourful, making it look like a canvas a painter had thrown reds, purples, greens, and blacks onto. The dominant sun-bleached gold of his hair as it trailed down his back contrasted with the deeper colouration of the bruising.
“I’m a fucking emotional mess, Birch. Why would you want to live with me?”
“That would probably be because I love you.”
Henri looked over his shoulder, not a shred of humour in his expression. “Is that enough?”
“Enough for what? To save the world
? Probably not. Enough for me? Yes. Enough for you? I don’t know. That’s something you need to decide.”
Henri burst into a broad grin and jumped on Birch. They tumbled around in bed, showering each other with kisses.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” Henri laughed when Birch’s hugs pressed a little too hard on his back.
Birch pulled his head back to look at him. “Can I take it that it is enough for you too?”
Henri nodded. He ran a scratchy thumb over Birch’s lower lip and then raised his eyes to meet Birch’s. “I love you, Birch Jacobs.”
Birch brushed the hair away from Henri’s face. “I know you do, Henri Morgan.”
More from A. Nybo
At Three Bears surf break, the attraction between a group of friends is anything but “Luke warm….”
Dan goes to stay with his best friend Josh in Margaret River, the surfing capital of Western Australia, to sort out his sexual confusion. But his best friend is the source of that confusion. Having never been attracted to a man other than Josh, Dan fears risking their friendship just to discover men aren’t his thing.
Within the first few days, Dan meets Luke, a local barista who offers him surf lessons. Dan soon finds himself emotionally coveting not one, but two men. When they go to Three Bears, his hidden desires begin to emerge. As the ambiguity of Dan’s mixed signals clears, it becomes apparent both of his surfing companions want him—badly.
It is only when Luke and Josh hook up that they formulate “Operation Three Bears,” an adventurous plan that might lead to a satisfying outcome for all of them.
A. NYBO has tried conventional methods (a psych degree and a GC in Forensic Mental Health) but far prefers the less conventional, such as the occasional barbecue in the rain, 400km drives at 1:00 a.m. for chocolate, and multiple emergency naps in any given twenty-four-hour period. Favourite things to do include that which can be seen (e.g. reading, writing, drawing, walking the dogs, travelling) and that which can’t, such as dreaming (both awake and asleep).
Western Australian born, she has been spotted on the other side of the planet several times–usually by mosquitoes. And discovered Amazonian mosquitoes love her just as much as they do in her home state.
You can contact her at the following addresses:
Twitter: @anybo5
Email: anybo.author@gmail.com
By A. Nybo
The Devil’s Breath
Three Bears
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Devil’s Breath
© 2019 A. Nybo.
Cover Art
© 2019 Kanaxa.
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64405-012-5
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64405-013-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018956386
Digital published January 2019
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America