Keeping Sweets

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Keeping Sweets Page 12

by Cate Ashwood


  Too soon, the insistent pressure of Bran’s fist was gone. Evan wanted to weep at the loss. He had been about to come, but Bran had known it and was applying even pressure to his belly, bringing him back down from the edge.

  “Not yet, Sweets. Gonna make this last for you.”

  Evan wasn’t sure if he had answered. The sounds coming from him were nothing he had ever heard before. Bran was driving him insane, dropping wet kisses on his stomach, his hips, his inner thighs. His mouth was everywhere but where Evan wanted it most.

  And then it wasn’t.

  Evan thought for a moment he was hallucinating, brought on by pure want, when he felt Bran’s lips dusting lightly over the tip of his leaking cock. He tried to prop his head up to see what was happening, when he saw Bran’s pink tongue dart out and lick clean the drop of precome that had gathered. He swirled his tongue around the head.

  He continued licking and kissing along the shaft, the pressure maddeningly light. He began to lick more forcefully, bathing Evan from root to tip before finally taking him into his mouth. Evan’s hips bucked up off the bed. He wanted in the moist warmth as Bran began to pull off, but Bran’s knowing hands applied pressure to his hips, rooting him in place. Up and down, Bran moved in a perfect rhythm as he held Evan and grounded him to the mattress.

  Evan was trembling, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. He was almost there, but Bran was holding the end just out of reach. Bran slowed again, torturously slow as he relaxed his throat and took Evan all the way in, swallowing firmly around him. Evan cried out, head falling against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut and hands clenching the bunched sheets. He would not pass out. He couldn’t miss this. It was too fucking good.

  Bran released him with a quiet pop and Evan tried to catch his breath. He was still so close, but Bran knew just how to touch him to stave off orgasm.

  “Please, Bran. Please,” he heard himself beg, unable to censor what fell from his mouth.

  “Soon, Ev. I promise.”

  Bran reached for another pillow and tucked it under Evan’s hips. He pushed Evan’s legs open, hooked Evan’s knees over his shoulders, and leaned in low. He nuzzled against the soft skin of his scrotum, pulling one testicle into his mouth and sucking gently. He gave the same attention to both sides, worshipping them evenly before delving lower to lick at the sensitive ring of muscle.

  Evan pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Wha… what are you doing?” he asked. The sensation of Bran’s tongue massaging him in such a private place felt strange to Evan.

  “Just relax. If you don’t like it, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

  He leaned back against the pillows, trusting Bran would never do anything he didn’t think Evan would like. He felt Bran’s tongue again, lapping at his entrance, massaging. Holy fuck it felt good. He had never imagined how sensitive he was there. He couldn’t get enough of the sensations assaulting him.

  He heard the quiet snick of the lube bottle and then a prodding finger, adding pressure gently at his entrance. He tried to relax, knowing that if he tensed, it would make it more difficult and more painful.

  “Just breathe, Sweets, and I want you to push back against me, okay? You tell me if it’s too much.”

  He did as Bran asked, bearing down against him, feeling the blunt tip breach past the first ring of muscle before sliding inside. It was like nothing he had experienced before. It stung a little—a low burn—that ebbed as Bran gave him time to adjust to the feeling of the invasion.

  Bran moved in and out slowly, gently dragging his finger along the inside wall of Evan’s channel, massaging and stretching. After a few minutes, he could feel a second finger poised next to the first.

  He started to tense at the idea of the addition of a second finger. He wasn’t ready. But then Bran’s mouth enveloped his cock once more, driving all rational thought from his head. Bran knew what he was doing. Oh God, did he ever. The tight suction increased as Bran started a relentless rhythm, distracting Evan from the burn as the second finger entered with the first.

  Once again, Bran gave Evan time to adjust to the width of his fingers before he began to move, scissoring them open to prepare him to accommodate his much larger cock. Suddenly, he brushed against Evan’s prostate, sending Evan’s hips flying off the bed and driving his cock further down Bran’s throat.

  “Oh shit, Bran, oh God, do that again,” he begged as Bran relaxed his throat, swallowing Evan down at the same time as he brushed in continuous tempo against the bundle of nerves inside.

  Evan felt like he couldn’t take much more. Everything felt so good and he wanted it to last forever, but more than that he wanted Bran inside him.

  “I’m ready, Bran. Please, I need you.”

  “I know, baby. Almost, just a little more. Want to make sure you’re ready. Don’t want you to hurt.”

  Evan felt the addition of a third finger. He hissed at the slight burn the stretching caused. He didn’t care, though. No amount of pain would deter him from needing to feel Bran thrusting inside him.

  Bran sat up, propped up on his knees, and hooked his arms under Evan’s knees before pulling him across the bed. Reaching back, he retrieved the bottle of lube and a condom and tore the foil packet before sheathing himself. He poured a healthy amount of lube into his palm. He rubbed more against Evan’s ass, making sure there was more than enough for an easy glide, and the rest he rubbed on his hard cock.

  Bran leaned back over and kissed him hard. Evan thought he was going to die with the anticipation of what came next. His skin was on fire, blood pumping, heart racing. He felt like he had waited a lifetime for this, and even though there were cameras and an audience, he couldn’t have imagined a more perfect scenario than his first time unfolding this way with Bran.

  The blunt tip pressed against him, the pressure and sting intense as Bran entered him for the first time. It was slow, so slow as Bran met resistance. He kissed down the side of Evan’s neck, murmuring sweet reassurances as he pushed in further and further, achingly slow.

  Finally, they were fully connected, bodies locked together. The burn was overwhelming and Evan struggled to breathe through it. Bran held completely still, searching Evan’s face.

  “You okay, Sweets?”

  Evan bit his lip, trying to ignore the pain and focus on the man looking back at him. His heart swelled in his chest to see Bran looking at him like that. Bran’s eyes were wide, eyebrows knit together in concern. Evan felt cared for and cherished.

  The ache began to subside, transforming as warm waves of pleasure washed over him. If Bran didn’t move soon, he was going to lose his mind.

  He pulled Bran down to him. He fastened their lips together and bucked his hips up, urging Bran to move. He understood Evan’s plea, beginning to thrust in earnest.

  “Oh God, Evan. You feel so good. So tight.”

  Slowly at first, Bran let the pleasure build gradually before shifting his hips, changing the angle of entry. Again and again he glided over Evan’s prostate, sending sparks of pleasure through him.

  He reached between their bodies and held Evan’s stiff shaft in a tight grip. Evan pushed his hand away. He didn’t want to come yet, didn’t want this to end too soon.

  He was lost in bliss, riding each wave as Bran took him higher and higher. His vision began to darken around the edges, his orgasm building deep inside him. He couldn’t hold on much longer.

  Bran kissed him again, just as he fell over the edge, swallowing his cries. Warm semen splashed between their stomachs, coating them both in white sticky ropes. Bran thrust hard three more times and fell over the edge with him, burying himself as far as he could go inside Evan’s body.

  They trembled together as the spasms wracked their bodies, skin sliding together before Bran collapsed over him in a sweaty, sated heap. Although it was difficult to breathe, Evan recognized this moment as the happiest of his life. He lay there, still connected to the man who he felt complete with.

  This felt right, perfect, wonderfu
l.

  All too soon, Bran had to pull out. He quickly disposed of the used condom. His hands roamed over Evan’s body, as if he was reluctant to break the contact too soon. They kissed lazily for what felt like hours, bringing one another down slowly from the euphoria of what had taken place.

  Bran rolled off of Evan, pulling him to rest against him, and stroked Evan’s hair.

  Bran squeezed Evan tighter and pressed a kiss to his damp temple.

  “Are you alright? Do you hurt?”

  “I feel wonderful. Like I could have a nap or go for a run at the same time. Is it always like that?”

  Bran chuckled softly. “Not exactly.”

  “When can we do that again?”

  Bran laughed again. “Whenever you want to, but you might be a bit sore for a while.”

  “I feel pretty good right now….”

  “I’m glad. Good thing you’ve been using the plug.”

  Evan was silent.

  “Evan? You did use it, right?”

  “Well… not exactly,” Evan replied.

  Bran propped himself up on one elbow, looking at Evan with concern. “What do you mean, not exactly?”

  Evan blushed, hiding his face against Bran’s chest. His answer came out quiet, muffled. “I wanted you to be the first.”

  Bran pushed against Evan’s shoulder, turning him so he could look him in the eyes. “Please don’t be upset with me,” Evan said cautiously.

  Bran kissed him as happiness washed over Evan. He hadn’t been sure if kissing was allowed off camera. “God, Ev. I’m not upset with you, just worried. I could have hurt you!”

  Evan smiled and nuzzled in, loving the feeling of being enveloped by the larger man. “I’m fine. I promise. I knew you would never hurt me. I trust you.”

  Bran sighed and brushed one last kiss across Evan’s temple before getting up from the bed.

  “Stay here and rest for a while. I’m just going to go check on some things.”

  Evan nodded and snuggled himself under the covers, wishing to stay tucked in close to the memory of what had just happened in that bed. He closed his eyes and let sleep pull him under.

  Chapter 14

  BRAN walked down the stairs and out the back door. He settled himself in one of the large wooden Adirondack chairs perched on the wraparound porch. Most of the guys had taken off for the beach, opting to explore their surroundings rather than stay confined to the house.

  His skin was still tingling with the sense memory of what had just taken place in his bed. He was dazed. Sex hadn’t felt like that before. It was as much a first time for Bran as it had been for Evan. The first time he actually felt something real with another guy, and his first time experiencing something more meaningful than going through the motions to reach the money shot. There hadn’t even been a money shot with Evan. He had been too absorbed in the other man, too consumed with the enormity of how right it felt being wrapped around one another.

  How the hell was he going to let him go? Hell, Bran wasn’t really sure he had him to begin with. Everything was up in the air when Bran would have preferred things to be nice and settled, preferably cocooned in the white fluff of his bedspread. For a man who lived his life absolutely sure of every step he took, uncertainty did not sit well. Should he talk to Evan? Tell him how he felt? Was that wise?

  Even if Evan felt the same way, Bran couldn’t keep him. Evan was just a kid. He had a whole big wide world to explore. He was a rookie in every sense of the word, and no one could be expected to know, at eighteen, exactly what they wanted out of life.

  Bran leaned back against the worn wood, the slight breeze ruffling his hair. The sounds of the waves should have been soothing, but all they did was accentuate the sounds of war within him. He was more confused than he had been two hours ago, and with no solution in sight, he resigned himself to stay quiet for now, keep his distance and hope against hope that everything sorted itself out.

  Maybe he was the only one who had noticed a difference in that room. Maybe he was mistaking a problem for a disaster and life would go on the same way it always had for him: simply and free of entanglements.

  The back door opened as Colt sauntered out carrying two bottles of beer. He didn’t say anything as he handed one to Bran and lowered himself into the chair opposite him.

  “Thanks,” Bran offered.

  “No worries. Thought you might need one.”

  Bran quirked one eyebrow up. Colt stared him down as he took a long drag of his beer.

  “Don’t try to bullshit me. I was there. I saw what happened. What the fuck was that, man?”

  Bran shrugged. He wasn’t used to any of the guys actually talking to him much outside of what was caught on camera. Without many guy friends besides Les, who was more like a father or uncle than a buddy, he wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t sure what the protocol was.

  “I dunno. Just the way it turned out I guess.”

  “Well I’m not saying it wasn’t fuckin’ hot. Just that you oughta be careful. That kid looks at you like you hung the fuckin’ moon. Just don’t wanna see him, or you, gettin’ hurt is all.”

  Colt’s voice was filled with unease, but not judgment. Bran believed him when he said he really was just concerned.

  “I know. In good conscience I can’t tell you I know what I’m doing, but I promise I’ll be careful.”

  “Careful may not cut it, boss. The kid is half gone on you already and we’ve only been here a coupla days. You fuck him again and you risk him fallin’ full on, head over heels in love with you.”

  “I don’t know about—”

  “Trust me,” Colt interrupted, his voice hard. “Seen it happen before. Innocent kid, doesn’t know which way is up an’ some guy hotter’n fuck comes along with a charming smile an’ a talented mouth. Before the kid knows it he’s packin’ his bags, ready to travel clear across the South to be with him, only to be left standing at the end of a dirt road, homeless and broken.”

  Seemed pretty specific, but Bran thought it best not to mention it. “I won’t hurt him, Colt. I swear it.”

  That seemed to satisfy Colt for now. He leaned back in his chair drinking from the glass bottle every once in a while. They sat for a while, silence comfortable between them.

  “I like it here,” Colt offered with a quiet sigh.

  “Yeah? It’s pretty nice. Peaceful.”

  “Yep. And different from what I’m used to.”

  “Oh yeah?” Bran urged. Colt had been pretty tight-lipped about where he came from and his reasons for moving from Texas. Bran didn’t want to pry. If Colt wanted to talk about it he would, but Bran was a little curious. Most of the guys in the industry were outgoing, extroverted, and a little wild. Most enjoyed the notoriety that came with the job and the majority had a tendency to become arrogant after a while. Colt seemed different. He reminded Bran of Evan in that way. They were both more soft-spoken, introspective, and restrained. Their modesty and sincerity were refreshing.

  “Well, kinda. I’m from a small town, so I’m used to the quiet, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had a chance to just sit and do nothing for an afternoon. Been workin’ my whole life up until a month ago. Now I’m not really sure what’s gonna happen next. Suppose once this is done I’ll head back into the city and try to find a normal job for a while. Been kickin’ around the idea of goin’ back to school maybe.”

  Bran commiserated with Colt. He felt a little lost too, unsure of what to do next, though heading back to the city held less appeal for him now than it had a few days ago. He could get used to this, being out and away from civilization. No hectic schedules to keep, no deadlines or postproduction crises. He was getting pretty old for porn. Maybe he should start thinking about retirement, or a change of career at least.

  “School’s always a good option. You’re young too. Lots of time to figure out what you want. You know what you would want to major in?”

  “History, I think. Been entrenched in it my whole life. My family comes from
a long line ’a cattle farmers. Helped to establish the industry in our part ’a Texas. Grew up on stories of American heroes. ’S a part of my soul now.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a lot more figured out than you think.”

  Colt shrugged. “I guess.” He let his head fall back against the slats and closed his eyes.

  All the guys in the house seemed to have their lives more together than Bran did. He had wasted so much time just existing, moving from one day to the next with no set direction. He hadn’t realized how stagnant his life had become until he was thrown into a situation where he was supposed to be the leader, the one to look up to, and instead he was floundering to understand a barrage of new feelings and lost as to where he was headed.

  The feelings he had stumbled on with Evan had awakened more than just lust and affection in him. He wanted more out of life, expected more out of himself. If he couldn’t deliver on that, how could he ever hope to be enough for someone like Evan?

  Evan deserved someone who could provide for him, protect him, and love him the way he should be loved. He didn’t need a broken shell of a man whose only skills consisted of mind-bending blowjobs and smooth as honey anal sex. Christ he was a mess.

  The thoughts of blowjobs brought him back to Evan and the way he had felt under Bran’s touch. He may be noble enough to want to walk away from Evan, but his body had other ideas.

  Colt broke into Bran’s train of thought before it had gotten too far away from him.

  “I’m gonna head in. You want another?” he asked, tipping his beer bottle toward the house.

  “Nah, I’m good. I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

  THE rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. By five o’clock it was almost time for supper, but Bran hadn’t been able to quiet his mind all afternoon. He needed to man up. Colt was right. Things could go wrong if there was any sort of attachment building for either him or Evan. Not knowing where Evan stood, he was speculating on things he shouldn’t. He would have to talk to him, gauge his reaction to things.

 

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