by Mary Calmes
I wanted to. I wanted to make him take all of me, but I wanted inside him so desperately that I truly would have killed anyone who stood in my way.
But he tightened his grip, urging me on, faster, faster, and I couldn’t think. My body took over, and I pumped between those beautiful plump lips, thrusting into the wet heat, and came with a yell, emptying down the back of this throat. It felt endless, and there was only Efrem swallowing and sucking, then easing back to lick until there was nothing left.
I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes until they drifted open and I saw him in a sated sprawl under me, his hand covered in come as aftershocks shuddered through him.
“You came just from sucking my dick?”
He nodded slowly, and I went to my knees beside the bed and kissed his swollen lips, licked into his mouth, and tasted my come on his tongue. I was hungry for him, to have him under me, crying out and begging, and I ran my fingers through his hair, fisting tight for a moment before letting go, needing to mark him somehow so he’d never leave me again.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, heaving for breath, and I realized it was because of me, I wasn’t letting him up for air between kisses. “I’m never leaving.”
“You have a life. You have a job,” I said before I kissed him again, this time sucking on his tongue, rising over him just enough so I could stretch out on top of him. Once I had him under me, I rolled us over so he was on top, draped over me, my hands on his head, keeping him there, locked to me.
He broke the kiss, gasping, and sat up, straddling my hips and reaching for the lube.
“I waited for you,” I told him, passing him the bottle, watching as he snapped open the lid and dribbled some into his palm.
“I waited for you too,” he said, reaching behind him, his fingers feather light on my already thickening cock, slicking me, stroking me, the languid caress causing flutters of arousal to roll through my body, my mewling cry not a sound I would have credited myself with being able to make.
I gripped his muscled thighs before taking the lube from him, coated my hand and took hold of his beautiful cock, slicking him from balls to head, watching glistening beads of pearly precome slip from the opening.
“Why does your hand feel a thousand times better than mine?”
I chuckled, and it sounded almost sinister, the joy at having him under my power a heady thing. When he lifted, my gaze met his. “You don’t have to. I’m in heaven right now.”
“I need you,” he almost whined, and his hand was on my shaft, moving me forward, into position, and I swallowed my demand for him to hurry.
“It’ll be painful this way,” I warned, desperate to be inside of him, just as desperate not to hurt him. “Let me put you on your back.”
“I like it this way, you know that,” he moaned, and it was long and aching.
“It’s been a long time, honey. You need to—”
“I might not have men, but I have toys,” he assured me with a wicked grin before his lips parted and his head fell back.
He sank down over me just a fraction, and the sound that came out of him, the hum before the oh God and my name, over and over, nearly broke me.
“Go slow,” I rasped even as I groaned long and loud, the vise of heat so tight, so hot, opening a fraction at a time, nearly driving me out of my mind.
His head now rolled forward and his eyes locked on mine as he put his right hand down on the middle of my chest, bracing himself as he took me inside.
“I used to want to top,” he whispered, sounding dazed, fully seated now, his slippery channel filled with me. “And now I can’t for the life of me remember why.”
“Because it’s fuckin’ heaven being buried to my balls in your ass,” I rumbled, the contentment of being inside of him almost more than I could bear. Having him stretched around me, his muscles rippling and squeezing, the spasms incessant, pulsing, making me jerk under him like a live wire.
“It’s heaven having you inside,” he promised, stroking down my abdomen, fingers tracing over the muscles there. “It’s like you’re at the core of me.”
I shivered from the sensations traipsing through my body.
“Shall I move?” he teased, lifting just a bit and slipping back down.
“No, don’t do that,” I pleaded. “It’ll be over too fast.”
But he clenched his inner muscles, and I gripped his thighs hard in reaction, wanting it, and not, at the exact same time.
“Let’s do that again,” he said slyly, but I twisted my body, changed my angle, and he gasped, hands like claws on my chest as I pushed up into him and felt his whole body tremble.
“I think I found the good spot.”
“Darius,” he whined, and I knew, because I always had, what he needed.
Rolling him to his back, I put the crook of my elbows under his knees and bent him in half, his ass pressed to my groin, and pushed into him as deep as I could go.
He howled my name. I smiled. I’d forgotten he was a yeller.
Pulling out partway, I thrust back inside, my hips pumping, hands curled around his shoulders, using them for leverage as I hammered into him.
His eyes were closed, fists clenched in the blankets, as he cried out for me to not stop, to never stop.
“But you’re gonna come in a second, and then we’ll do this again and again, all the time, whenever we want because we’ve been apart fuckin’ long enough.”
“Don’t let me go. Please don’t let me go,” Efrem begged.
“You don’t have to worry. That’s never gonna happen again,” I promised, setting a pounding, driving rhythm that made it impossible to concentrate on anything but the climax building inside of me. “But you need to come,” I said, my voice low, guttural, as I reached between us and began pumping my fist around him to the same steady movement of my cock. “Because I’m too close, and this time is for you.”
“Darius!” he roared and arched up under me, his body seized in the throes of a powerful, shuddering release, his muscles clamping down around me triggering mine seconds later.
We sank into a moment of nothing, just a roil of sensation, a wave of aftershocks that shorted out my brain as I collapsed on top of him, taking his mouth and kissing him deeply.
When I could see again, I stared into all that green and breathed.
He put his hands on my face, smiling and crying at the same time.
“I’m gonna pull out in just a second,” I lied.
“There’s no hurry.”
There wasn’t. Never again.
Chapter Nine
WE LAY there in bed, drinking water and deciding if we were going to cook or venture out into the cold.
“Can you cook now?” he asked.
“I can.”
“Oh yeah?” He sighed, rolling sideways, snuggling against my shoulder, his hand over my heart. “What can you cook?”
It was hard to think with his warm skin pressed to mine, his leg draped over my thigh under the covers, and his clean-smelling hair right under my nose. I wanted to kiss him some more, hug him, and have him under me again. I could already tell I was going to have a problem focusing for a bit.
“Hey.”
“Sorry,” I said softly, pushing his hair back out of his face. “I’m distracted. You’re distracting me. How about an omelet?”
“That sounds perfect,” he said, shifting to lie on top of me.
“This isn’t going to get you food.”
“What did you mean when you said ‘this time is for you’? Did you think the first time wasn’t for me as well?”
“The blow job was for me,” I assured him.
“I came just from having your dick in my mouth, so yes, both were for me just as both were for you. When did we ever have sex that the other person didn’t enjoy?”
He was right.
“If we did, I don’t remember.”
“No, you’re right.”
“I know I’m right, so stop thinking that everything needs to be pe
rfect right this second, because it doesn’t.”
“Okay.”
“The important thing is, we’re going to stick together, right?”
I cupped his face in my hands. “That’s what I want. Is that what you want?”
His smile was blinding. “Yes.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling the happiness seep into my bones. “Let me feed you.”
I got a kiss in agreement.
LATER, AS he sat on one of the barstools at the island in my kitchen and I stood across from him, leaning over as I ate, I got a small nod.
“Oh, come on, that’s a good omelet.”
He cackled.
“That’s mean.”
“Well, that’s because I’m mean now.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. Ask anyone.”
“It could be that since you haven’t been laid in sixteen years, you got kind of pissed off and stayed that way.”
His low seductive chuckle made my dick hard again.
“Drink your juice,” I muttered.
He sighed deeply and then turned on the barstool to look at me. He looked good in my sweats and a long-sleeved Henley. The heavy crew socks I had put on his feet myself, to make sure he stayed warm.
“What’s with the look?” I asked, noting how he was studying me.
“I want to tell you everything I’ve done, everyplace I’ve been, and then I want you to do the same. I want all the blanks filled in for both of us.”
“Me too.”
He huffed out a breath. “So I want to sit with tea and talk to you,” he said, pointing at the mantle. “Over there by the fireplace.”
“Okay, let’s do that.”
His smile made it feel like there were butterflies now flying around in my chest.
I told him to go sit down, but he didn’t listen and did the rest of the dishes for me—there weren’t many, I was a clean-as-you-go guy—while I made the tea. I cheated and used the Keurig, but that way it was fast.
He took a seat on my long leather couch, and I followed with the mugs, setting them down before I flipped the switch beside the mantel, and the fire roared to life in front of me. Gas was a wonderful thing, and even though I missed the crackling of the wood, I did not miss cleaning up the ash or the chimney.
“That’s nice,” he sighed, picking up his mug and taking a sip of tea. As soon as he tasted it, his eyes widened. “You remembered.”
“That you like peppermint and Earl Grey together,” I said, giving him a half grin. “Why, yes, dear, I did remember.”
He patted the seat beside him, and I walked around the other end and followed his direction. Once I was down, I twisted in the seat to face him.
“You ready to hear about my family?”
“Yes.” I smiled wide. “But first I have to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“I love you very much.”
His shoulders slumped, and he groaned loudly before putting his mug down on the coaster on the table and crawling into my lap.
“How am I supposed to drink my tea?” I complained.
He wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed tight.
“That’s great and all, but really, I wanted some tea.”
He nuzzled his face into the side of my neck before he kissed me. “I love you back, you fuckin’ idiot.”
“Idiot?” I objected. “How so?”
He shoved back, hands on my shoulders, and glared at me. “Why didn’t you come find me the second you were done with the military?”
“I couldn’t do that. You don’t just pop in on the man you love when you’re black ops.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one,” I said, rubbing his arms, gentling him until he stopped locking his elbows, let them bend, and leaned closer to me. “You’re not out at your job.”
“I am.”
“You are?”
He nodded. “I wasn’t five years ago, so I understand what you’re saying, but you have to know that I would have done anything to have you back.”
It was terrifying. The life I’d had, what I’d done, all the death dealt, all the missions run, the seriously fucked-up shit dependent on absolutely perfect timing requiring nerves made of even stronger stuff than steel, and this man had me shaking like a leaf.
“Baby?” he crooned, hands on the side of my neck, his thumb on the pulse point in my throat. “What’s wrong?”
This was why I’d never looked for him, never gone to him, because until I was out, until I was done with working for my government—or anyone else but myself—the distraction of him would have been not only my death, but his as well.
“Once you’re in that life, once you’re a CIA operative, you don’t just ask to be out. They let you go when they’re ready or when you become too scary, too unpredictable, with more contacts and resources than even they have, and after you’ve killed everyone they send after you and return only pieces.”
He nodded, taking a quick breath.
“I’ve only been all the way out, not even a contractor, for a couple years,” I explained. “And even then, until the day I told them no and knew nothing was going to happen, I was still worried. But once things were on my terms, I started piecing my life back together.”
“And me?”
“I didn’t think I could have you and I didn’t want to mess up your life.”
“Being with you is my life, and I can speak from experience,” he insisted, hands on my face. “I’ve had everything but you, and I feel like I’ve been walking around like a zombie the whole time.”
“I didn’t have time to do anything but survive for so long,” I confessed, “but just in the past six months, things have changed so dramatically for me, and—I want my life back.”
“Meaning me.”
I nodded, voice lost for a moment, the lump in my throat too big to speak around.
“Right?” he teased, the playfulness there in the crinkle of the laugh lines, the pop of his dimples, and curl of his plump lips. “Your life is me?”
He had always done that, given me the time I needed to recover when there was too much emotion for me to talk through.
“Yes, it is,” I assured him.
His eyes filled fast, and I put my hand on his cheek, my thumb brushing away tears. I swallowed hard myself, feeling it, the ground securely under my feet after so many years. We had to bump our foreheads together just as we’d done earlier, gently, the communion necessary, the leaning the new normal until we got used to each other again, could take for granted that we’d see each other every day. In the meantime, we would be soaking up every brush, touch, kiss, and hug that the other person gave us. It was absolutely necessary. I’d been starving for him for over a decade, if he wanted to stretch out on top of me morning, noon, and night I was more than game.
We sat there, snuggled together in front of the fire, and after what was surely only minutes, I jolted awake, realizing that for once in forever, I’d fallen asleep without a gun within easy reach. I never did that, I was always ready. But Efrem was there, warm and heavy in my arms, and I had surrendered to the closeness like I’d had it yesterday instead of years ago.
His effect on me was dangerous, intoxicating, soothing and craved, but if someone came through the front door to hurt us—
“Hey,” he murmured before yawning, tightening his hold on me. “What’s wrong?”
He couldn’t even see my face with his head on my chest, but my breathing alerted him, the way I’d clutched him when I woke up.
“Nothing.”
“Liar,” he said, chuckling as he sat up so he could meet my gaze. “You worried that I’m going to take away your edge?”
With his drugging kisses, the overwhelming feeling of contentment, and my inability to keep my hands off him, I wouldn’t be able to protect either of us if needed. “I’m scared you already have.”
“And would that be so bad?”
“I’m worried about you getting hur
t.”
His smile was warm and sexy at the same time. “You have too many people watching out for you to worry.”
“You don’t know that.”
He snorted. “Oh, I think I do.”
And while I sat there counting, I realized he was right. I was safe as houses on that island.
“Tell me something.”
“Anything,” I agreed, sinking my fingers into his thick hair, feeling so present in my own body as I had not been in years. I was moving slowly, breathing deeply, letting everything but him and me roll away.
“How did you know I’d be waiting?”
“I didn’t. I wished, I prayed. I hoped,” I admitted, happy to reveal that truth to him.
“Well, I nearly passed out when I saw you in Detroit.”
“You,” I said like he was nuts. “Holy shit, Ef, what made you pick Homeland?”
“I was recruited.”
“And?”
“And it’s been harder in some aspects than I thought it would be, easier in others. There’s a lot of things, like this one with your friend Trevan, that turn out to not be under our purview, and we end up chasing our tails sometimes, but there are some real wins too.”
“So your job is important to you.”
“It is, yes.”
“That’s good. I knew you’d find your niche and be passionate about it.”
“I’m passionate about you; the job is of secondary consideration at this point. Like I said, there are a hundred guys that can do it better.”
“What, you’ve been just warming a chair?” I scoffed, reaching out to trace over a golden eyebrow before brushing his hair back, completely unable to stop touching him. “That’s not you. If you didn’t think you were contributing, you would have stepped aside.”
“I’m not saying I’m not good at my job, I’m more than competent,” he assured me. “But I’m also ready for the next adventure in my life if they tell me that my administrative leave becomes permanent.”
“What will you do then?”
He thought a moment. “I really like it here in Nahant, maybe I’ll become a lobsterman.”
I couldn’t contain my laughter. Just the visual in my head was hysterical.