by Rhys Ford
My heart no longer whispered. Instead, it wept, because it damned well wanted to be stroked and reassured it still had a home in that man’s hands.
I crossed the long cement mile separating us. It was over in an instant but seemed like forever. After not seeing him for too many days, my rapier wit and smooth charm were sharp and ready.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” Ah, his cunning mind served him well.
He stood up and brushed grit from his jeans. They were one of my favorite pairs, so thin in spots the denim was nearly translucent and with tears across his knees and thighs. He picked at them when he worked, playing with the strings hanging from the rips. The shirt he wore was one of mine, a vintage Dr Pepper tee I picked up someplace. The faded purple-red was nice against his pale skin, nearly the color of the bites I could make on his throat when I wasn’t careful.
And, God, I was tired of being careful.
“Why didn’t you go in?” I opened the front door and held the screen open for him.
“It was nice outside. Thought I would get some fresh air and wait for you.”
“Your cat must be going crazy inside.”
“Have you been feeding her?” Jae ducked around my arm, but his hand brushed over my belly. My stomach muscles clenched, and my dick saluted him as he went by.
“Yeah, or she’d eat me alive as I slept.”
He laughed, a burbling, rough sound he also made when I hit the delicate core of his body with my cock. “Then, no, she’s probably been too happy to miss me. She is pretty much a stomach with fur.”
“I’ve missed you.”
Yeah, it was cheesy—long, gushing cheesy romance stuff that I was never good at, but it was the truth. He turned, pausing long enough to breathe and lick his upper lip. A storm flicked up in the air between us, hot and crackling and full of a fire we’d banked between us for too many days for our bodies to count… or to care about anything but touching skin.
We made it about three steps into the house before my old Dr Pepper shirt hit the wood floor.
Chapter 10
THERE are moments in life when memory fails to capture what’s important. The feeling of when that first tooth is loose, what you were wearing during the first kiss that rocked your socks off, or the song playing on the stereo the first time you saw a shooting star. And then there are times when the brain kicks in and hits full record because it knows that this is the Moment.
My brain not only kicked in but started chiseling things down onto stone tablets to be taken up to the mount for everyone to see and follow as gospel.
If there was any doubt God loved gay men, the proof was the existence of Jae-Min’s mouth.
I spent my time exploring what God gave him. Cupping his face in my hands, our bodies barely touched, and his bare chest skimmed against mine. Even through my cotton shirt, the contact peaked my nipples, rubbing them erect. Jae smelled of green tea, sunshine, and the sweet rough of male sweat. What he tasted of was pure heaven.
At some point, I’d taught him how to make cinnamon toast. He’d never had it before, and after I picked myself off the floor from shock, I proceeded to instruct my lover on the delicate balance of the pungent spice with sugar and how much fresh butter should go onto the almost-too-dark toasted bread. He was a quick study, mastering the delicate shake off and repeat maneuver I used to get the sugar soaked into the toast. It was a food he loved, munching on triangles and sipping tea, our morning kisses spiced and hot from the warmed, sweet cinnamon.
It was what he tasted of now. Of cinnamon and desire. Of love and sex. Of soft midnights and loud laughter.
The tang of him grew in my mouth until I could no longer swallow enough of it in.
I drew out the sensations, savoring the rough of his tongue against mine and the ridged smoothness of his palate when I licked at it. Lightly pressing my thumbs against his jaw, I urged Jae to open up… to let me journey deep into his taste as much as I wanted to.
He moaned and slid across my body, tilting his head back, and surrendered to my exploration.
I pulled him into the living room. I didn’t care about the no-sex-on-the-table rule or even if there were still condoms left hidden someplace in the apothecary chest. I burned to be inside of him: my mouth… my fingers… my cock. Hell, if my skin could crawl off of my bones and wrap around Jae’s lean body, it would have. Anything to quench the need for him.
The candles on the apothecary chest went flying. One rolled right off, along with the holder it’d been stuck into, but the other landed someplace I couldn’t see. Since I didn’t hear a cat yowl in protest, I figured I was in the clear. I wanted to see Jae spread out before me. The couch was too narrow, and the bed was too far away. It was going to have to be the chest.
“Not. On. The. Table,” Jae gasped in between kisses. “We eat—”
“Only thing being eaten there right now is you,” I growled, biting his bare throat. None of the buttons on my shirt survived, popping off with delicate pings when I tugged it from my body. “Now, shut up before I tie you down to it.”
It actually sounded like a good idea. The antique chest was enormous, a square block of aged wood and ironwork with drawers running down both sides. The upper drawer handles were large rings, strong enough to hold anything I tied to them, including a writhing Korean man.
The thought of Jae stretched out and lying on the honey wood, naked and helpless against my tongue and fingers, made me hard enough to ache.
“Fuck, remind me to hide some of my old ties down here next time,” I murmured into his ear. “I am so going to fuck you tied to this thing one day.”
The throw pillows Maddy insisted I get were soft enough to cushion Jae’s hips and head. Along with a soft cashmere afghan, it made a perfect nest to lay my lover down on. He resisted only enough to give a soft protest about the chest’s dining table function, but I swallowed his complaints with a hard kiss.
“That’s why they made Pine-Sol, baby.” I pushed him down against the cushions and hitched his hips up so I could undo his jeans. “Trust me. I’ve got a fucking gallon of that shit in the kitchen.”
They were my favorite pair of his jeans, but I wasn’t careful. I didn’t care if the rivets popped out or if I tore the buttonholes as I undid his fly. I wanted them off. Now.
His skin was nearly as white as the thinning patches on his jeans, and when I splayed open his fly, I discovered he’d left his cinder block oasis without any underwear. A line of fine down trailed from his belly button, thickening into a silken black spread above his slender cock. I left his shaft trapped beneath the stitched end of the fly, concentrating only on the slender base I’d exposed. Already aroused, Jae’s cock pressed up against its restraints, plumping its base up. He moved his hands down from my shoulders and hooked them into the waistband of his jeans to pull them off, but I grabbed his wrists, pushing them to the side.
“No, not yet, agi.” I rested my chin against the crux of his legs and stared up into his honey-brown eyes. “I want—”
I didn’t finish what I was saying. Instead, I began to finish what I’d started.
Nestling my cheek against his soft, baby fine underbelly, I took a deep breath, pulling in Jae’s scent until I was drunk on it. Then I licked, and the taste of him was like sipping champagne made of moonlight. It’d only been a week, maybe a little bit more, but I forced myself to be steady and take my time. Nuzzling at the straining cock base, I laved at its powdery textured skin, wrapping my tongue up and around it.
Kneading at the plump head hidden from view, I trailed my fingers down to the thick folds of stitched denim below to stroke at the sac I knew lay there. Jae’s eyes were on me, a dark and wide stare following my every move. I watched his face as I licked. His teeth were a bright white splash of pain on his kiss-swollen lower lip, and he bit down hard to keep from crying out when I sucked at his base. He made a mess of the cashmere, scrunching the fine wool into mounds between his long fingers.
Twisting, Jae hooked
his legs up over my shoulders, mindlessly pressing me back with each long, wet stroke of my tongue. “Cole… jagiya… please….”
The denim was damp under my fingers, his cock rigid and leaking. I dipped my head down, focusing my attention and mouth on the soaked-through spot coming up from Jae’s crotch. It was a familiar burst of flavors, spicy and salt with a hint of cream and sex. I suckled hard, pulling on the fabric and wetting it with my tongue, drawing out as much of Jae’s arousal-induced spill as I could.
It must have been too much for him, because he leaned forward to shove me away. I refused to give in, letting him push as hard as he could, then bit into the spot I’d made damp with my mouth. My teeth found purchase on the denim and the flesh beneath. Dulled through the cloth, my bite was blunted, scraping along Jae’s tender head with ripples of fabric. Knowing he was bare beneath his jeans, I made sure he felt every striation of denim against his cock, hooking my teeth into the stitching and chewing at the salty mark.
When he dug his fingers into my aching shoulder, I decided he’d had enough. Especially since his nails were sharp and his scrapes stung from the sweat on my back. Jae’s moans tickled my eardrums, deep, throaty purrs hooking into my balls and pulling them up into my hollow.
The apothecary chest was too hard, and I couldn’t get a good enough angle to rest my knees when I climbed up Jae’s body to kiss his belly. His jeans snagged on one of the iron rivets on the upper trim, and I worked it carefully free before tossing it aside to join the candles.
Rumpled, he was curved up into my chest, his hands hooked behind my neck. I supported my weight with my palms, resting them on either side of his hips, and captured his mouth, sharing the slick, musky taste I’d found in a hot kiss. I didn’t let up, not until he was gasping for air, and only then did I pull away, only long enough to find the bite he’d worried into his lower lip.
I needed to bite that spot. As much as I needed to suckle the taste of him out of his jeans, I needed to sink my teeth into the depressions he’d made when I brought him to the brink of coming. Jae’d bit hard enough to bring himself to the brink of blood, and a sliver of skin had been peeled up by his teeth.
I suckled on his lip, playing with the kiss and hooking my hands under his ass before lifting him clear of the chest.
“What—?” Jae jerked, and I nearly dropped him. My shoulder felt the strain of his weight, and the scar tissue along my ribs twinged in complaint. “Cole-ah—”
“Moving you,” I grunted, placing him on the couch. “Damned thing is too hard. I’m going to get ridges on my knees.” Biting at the soft skin at his jaw, I mumbled. “Turn around and hold onto the back of the sofa, ’cause I’m going to fuck you through it.”
Shoving the cashmere throw aside, I found the drawer we’d stashed our supplies in. I still wanted to see him tied up and spread over the chest, but it would have to wait until I got some thick padding to cover the damned thing with. There was only so much pain a guy could endure during sex, and piercing my knees with antique iron studs wasn’t high on my list of kinks.
He was waiting for me when I turned around. On his knees. Bent over with his chest pressed against the rise of the couch. Legs spread and feet apart. A mile and a half of ivory skin and muscle, lean and strong with a blushed rose sac slid down to dangle in front of his parted ass. Looking over his shoulder, Jae was a blend of shadow, light and pink, pretty and cut fine with sharp bones and angles.
I slid the lube onto the couch and took my sweet time in running my hands over his shoulders, then down his back. I kissed along his spine, making a slalom run of the dip with the edge of my tongue until Jae wiggled from the contact. He tried to turn around, reaching for me and snagging the loop of my jeans. I pulled myself free, put a hand down between his shoulder blades and held him still, and used my free hand to undo my zipper.
I kicked my jeans and boxers off then flicked open the lube and scraped my fingernails against Jae’s back, his muscles knotting and releasing under my touch. He rolled his shoulders back to meet my fingers, and his spine curved, splaying apart his rounded ass cheeks, and flicked me a peek of his plum-hued rosette.
He quivered when I slid my mouth down the base of his spine, his skin prickling with goose bumps under my tongue. Dipping the tip down between his cheeks, I ghosted over the apex of his crack, careful not to go any further. Not one for rimming, Jae-Min’s body still had plenty of other touch points to make him sing when kissed or bitten, including the plump meat of his ass cheek.
I filled as much of my mouth as I could with his flesh and scored my teeth into his skin, twisting slightly until he tried to pull free. I repeated the marking on the other side, this time sucking hard enough to pull up a bruise. Satisfied with the welt forming against my tongue, I kept at it, forced a bit of lube onto my fingers, rubbing them together until it went slick from heat.
Then I slid two of them into Jae’s entrance and caught his moaning whimper in a kiss.
He was hot and tight, twisting around my fingers and pulling them in. My cock was primed, edging up to skim along the back of his legs and leaving a silvery salt trail on the inside of his thigh. Jae reached down, ran his fingers through my leavings, and brought the damp tips to his mouth, making sure I could see every inch of his digits disappearing into his suckling kiss.
“Taste good, baby?” I murmured, finding the rise of his shoulder with my front teeth. He nodded and thrust back, spearing himself on my hand. It was difficult to get the condom on, but I kept Jae busy until I had rolled it all the way down. Jae, however, had other ideas on what busy meant.
Drawing his fingers out, he smeared his spit-and-seed damp hand over my cheek and whispered, “Feel better when you’re inside of me.”
Dribbling more lube over my cock, I pulled my hand away. Guiding the tip of my sex to his puckering rosette, I pushed in. Leaning my head back, I enjoyed the tight swirl of muscle closing in around me. I took my time, working deep enough to feel the spongy skin on my glans stretch to give way to his tight ass, then release with a silent sigh as I pulled back. I teased him for a few minutes, holding his hips still in my broad hands, and rocked my cock head in and then nearly out until he mewled.
“Now, agi.” Jae’s English disintegrated further, and he swore at me, a hot curse, probably imagining things my mother did with a goat or perhaps a chicken. My Korean didn’t extend much further than lunch, I love you, and God, that feels good, none of which sounded like what Jae unfurled off his tongue.
In case, I didn’t seem to grasp his impatience, he grabbed the back of my thighs, resting his weight against the couch to pull me in. His fingernails bit into my skin and I hissed at the sharp pain.
It hurt. Probably not as much as the raking lines on my shoulder, but enough of a sting to make me rethink being a tease. Chuckling at my lover’s impatience, I plunged into his tense heat and set myself on fire.
Wildfires create their own weather. The air becomes a storm, whipping up high winds and lightning that arcs sideways, slamming into anything in its path. Sliding into Jae’s body was like falling naked and drenched in gasoline into the middle of a firestorm. I knew my death would come, but the rush was pure adrenaline and it was an experience I couldn’t live without.
He was home. Exotic and welcoming. A familiar mystery that drove me insane as I fought my instincts to cling too tightly when I was afraid he’d walk away or to throw my hands up in the air and run as far as I could when I didn’t understand him. Nested deep into Jae, I felt my soul pour out into the furthest corners of my consciousness and fly.
Jae straightened, pulling me deeper. Resting my knees on the cushion’s edge, I begin moving. Slowly at first, long, deep movements to pierce through his desire. His sweet spot clung to my cock, dragging over the ridge of my shaft. Snagging it again, I pushed down on the small of his back, closing his ass cheeks in so he could feel the burn rip through his body. Shuddering around me, Jae twisted and grabbed my hair, pulling my head forward until our mouths could touch.
We stayed that way, locked in a dual kiss of tongue and sex. I thrust harder, striking the sensitive nerves inside of him. His body went awry, unable to hold onto any semblance of restraint as I pounded the control right out of him. I felt his ass clench over my base, then a ripple under his skin telling me he was close to the edge.
I slid a hand over his hip bone, found his slender cock, brushed over its head, palming the seed it’d already leaked to rub it down his shaft. Jae hissed, startled at the too-sharp touch of his sex’s yearning then curved into my grasp, fucking my palm when I tightened my fingers around him.
Neither of us had words. Not anymore. Our names became our only language, combined with whispering moans and the creaking slam of the couch against the living room floor when our efforts grew too wild for the furniture to handle. Jae’s cock jumped in my hand, the first jerk of its coming, and I wrapped my arm around his chest to heave him back.
“Cole, so close,” he panted. Jae dropped his head forward, and I scraped at the back of his neck, marbling the skin there with red welting lines.
Pistoning him on my cock, I drove into Jae, holding him aloft while milking him dry with my fingers. Slamming up into his heat, I continued to mark him, biting where I could reach and pulling at the flesh until I left something behind. I wanted to engrave a part of myself onto him… into him… and for the first time since he’d mentioned it, I realized I really wanted to have him without anything between us… no latex… no lies… no family pressures… nothing but the sound and feel of each other’s bodies.