RUIN: A M/M Romance Novel
Page 23
“You’ve stopped fighting?”
“A little. I don’t know. I haven’t wanted to lately.” He gives me a smile, exposing every single one of his pearly whites, blinking those pale-blue eyes at me. “I’m ready to give it all up,” he admits.
I exhale. “Good. Because you don’t have to fight anymore, Baby. I don’t want you to fight anymore.”
I bob my head, inhaling the woodsy aroma of the pinot noir in my glass, before taking another sip.
“This is a nice place,” he says, looking around.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ve lived here for a few years now.”
“Oh,” he says, taking a few steps across the room to stare at the lit fireplace and the pictures that rest above the mantle.
He looks them all over curiously and picks one up. “Let me guess. This very beautiful lady is your mother.” He laughs. “I don’t know her well but I know what she looks like.”
“She’s wonderful.”
The Benedict family were a private bunch. I never quite knew what it was exactly, but I’d always thought they were somewhat odd. I was never a fan of the father. I’d only met him a few times. His eyes were shifty and his hands were always cold. There was something about Xavier Benedict II that was off. He was a horrid businessman who’d had countless stories behind his name about how he’d cheated and swindled people right here in his own city. I couldn’t wait to see the day that bastard fell from his golden pedestal. But I’d keep that to myself.
“Are you close with your mother?” I ask him.
“No,” he answers, jerking his gaze away from mine without elaborating.
He finishes his wine and sets the glass on the coffee table behind us. I stand and continue to look at the pictures, as though I’ve never seen them before. Baby approaches and removes the glass slowly from my hands with his warm ones and places it on the table next to his.
He stalks toward me, his blue eyes wide and his mouth set into a hard line. His loud breathing mingles with the crackling of the embers in the fireplace. A hand slides up the back of my neck, when he plants a punishing kiss to my lips and plunges his tongue deep into my mouth.
My fingers thread through his thick hair, as his hard chest crashes against mine. I taste the red wine on his tongue and inhale the spicy cologne that dusts his jawline. He undresses himself as quickly as I remove my own clothes, kissing and tasting each other, our bodies moving languidly toward the bedroom down the hall. I cup his face in my hands and simply stare admiring his surfer boy features that are somehow hardened at the same time. His lips are pink and his blue eyes blaze when he looks at me.
A broad smile spreads across his face when he realizes I’m savoring him.
“You like what you see?” His defined pecs heave.
“Of course,” I say, kissing him and crushing him against the wall allowing our lips to fuse. His hard cock presses into my thigh and I couldn’t be any more eager to have it.
His fingers grab at the waistband of my pants, yanking them down with the force of a gorilla, boxer briefs and all. He descends to his knees, shoving me against the wall, running his warm hands over my ass cheeks and squeezes.
A grunt escapes from my throat and my hands rake through his hair when he grips my cock, taking it deep into his mouth. I place my bare foot on his propped-up knee, while he works the length of my dick with his hand and hot mouth, sucking on my balls and nibbling on the inside of my thighs.
“Baby,” I whisper.
The song on replay fills my ears and I’m close to coming. Baby moans into my skin, working my cock slow and hard. My features relax and my mouth helplessly falls open, letting out a loud wail, when I come, that fills the wide hallway.
He allows my cum to dribble around his mouth, coating his neck and chest. He stands and shoves his jeans down frantically. His fat cock bounces out hard and ready. We scramble to the bedroom, limbs twisting, lips locking and eager hands everywhere while breathing heavily. In my post-orgasmic daze, he nudges me inside until the back of my thighs hit the bed. He approaches stealthily, looking like a blond Norse god ready for the kill—all ripped muscle and toned legs and ass. I ease down onto the white comforter and spread my legs when he crawls onto the bed.
Reaching down, I run my hand over his cock. He brushes it away, taking a violent hold of my thighs wrenching them farther apart. He gathers up the warm cum from his skin and coats my asshole with it using his thick fingers. Then quickly, he rubs lube there, the kind that turns your skin warm. He edges closer, placing a kiss to the inside of my right knee and grabs my other leg pulling them both over his powerful shoulders.
I’m vulnerable in this position. It’s a position I usually only put men in, never to find myself actually in it. I want to give Baby this. For once, I’d be the one to give in.
In anticipation, my lips part as I watch him work the fat head of his cock into my tight passage and wail softly when he fills me inch by inch. He grits his teeth when he’s all the way in and then slowly he settles into a stroke that has me becoming a moaning monster beneath him.
Baby
Fuck, this man is beautiful.
His dark hair is a bit messy and his muscular chest is covered in sweat. I stare at the tattoo of Jesus Christ inked there, trying desperately not to come yet.
Pierce’s gray eyes blink slowly as he watches me intently. His dark brows are furrowed and his pink lips are parted. I dip down and plant a punishing kiss to his mouth, tasting everything him. Dipping lower I suck each one of his nipples into my mouth, eliciting a growl from him. He cups my face with his large hands, kissing me back hard.
I feel pleasure but I also sense unease. Something tells me this isn’t a position he allows many to put him in. His legs are parted and his cock is hard, bouncing everywhere with each powerful thrust I make into his tight hole. I move slow and hard feeling his inner muscles clench and squeeze my dick, milking it of precum.
I run my hands over his powerful thighs, feeling the strength in them.
Our euphoric sounds mix together and an embarrassing whine leaves my mouth, when I pick up speed. Pierce jerks himself off, his teeth gnawing into his bottom lip like he’s trying to draw blood.
I fuck him hard and long and with purpose.
“Baby,” he rasps out.
I stare at all nine inches of my thick flesh as it slides in and out, out and in, enjoying the feeling that shoots straight to my balls when my cock slips into the tight hole.
His cock explodes, while his hand works the length of it. Cum streams everywhere. I open my mouth to taste it just as I come, digging my fingers into his thighs like a Neanderthal. I still completely, breathing hard, groaning each time my cock jerks, dumping cum into his asshole.
I collapse on top of him, sweaty and breathless. My lips find his while he wriggles out of the pretzel position he was previously in. We kiss for a while trying to find air. I stroke the face of the beautiful man beneath me.
He grabs his T-shirt and wipes up the mess between us and pulls the sheets back, gesturing for me to join him underneath them. It’s quiet for a while as I snuggle against one of the pillows. He comes close and wraps his arms around me—his chest to my back. His fingers stroke through my hair lovingly.
I didn’t think I was tired but, for some reason, it feels like sleep is near.
Night has fallen outside and the only thing filling the room is our breathing. We snuggle deeper into the comforter.
“Thank you for that,” I mumble.
His groan in response vibrates against my back.
“I want to be with you,” I honestly say, intertwining my fingers with his.
He hums into my ear, closing his fingers around mine and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”
It’s quiet for a moment.
“I could love you, Baby,” he whispers.
“I could love you too,” I admit.
“Please stay tonight. I want to make you waffles in the morning.”
I exhale and smi
le. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” He laughs.
“Waffles,” I say, lifting a brow.
“You aren’t close with your father, are you?”
“No,” I whisper, knotting my brows at the abrupt and odd change of subject. “He told me to stay away from you. In fact, he nearly begged.”
“You don’t say. I can only wonder why.”
His sarcasm doesn’t escape me.
“He’s cruel,” I add.
“How so?” he pushes.
I let out a breath, desperate not to talk about any of this right now. “He’s always had an issue with my sexuality.” I shift and roll onto my side so I’m facing him. I brush my lips against his, nibbling on the bottom one, while running my fingers through his soft hair.
His forehead is furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I sigh. “I mean he’s never liked the fact I’m gay, Pierce. He used to beat the shit out of me for it. I don’t talk about it, Pierce. I’ve never told anyone.”
“Whattttt?” he hisses, palming my face. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “But I don’t want to talk about this—not right now anyways,” I beg.
He shakes his head vigorously. “My father is gay.” He sits up a little leaning over me while I rest on my side. His face is still twisted as he stares off into the semi-darkness ahead, under the moonlight that filters into the room.
“How do you know that?” I whisper, skimming my fingers over his full lips.
“Benjamin Carlisle is gay.”
“How do you know?” I repeat the question, pushing up to rest on my elbows.
The air is thick, while I take in Pierce’s confused expression that seems as though it’s laced with anger, disbelief, and maybe even disgust...at something.
His pretty mouth hangs open and his eyes have morphed into slits, as he begins to speak again. “Because, Xavier Benedict II has been fucking my father since the nineties.”
Motherfucker!
-THE END-
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lover of words. Poetry glutton. Cynic. Idealist. Art collector. Lip gloss addict. Wife. Mommy. Daddy’s girl. Music fan. Book whore. Beach bum. Self-confessed NERD. Madwoman. Water rat. Wine drinker. Bermudian. Las Vegas resident-wannabe. Hopeless romantic.
I'm an independent author who had this crazy idea during one very, very hot summer to start writing books and I haven't stopped. I'm loving the ride and I appreciate all the readers who take the time to enjoy my stories.
I live on the small sub-tropical island of Bermuda in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with my husband and two children. If you can't find me here on the beach, you can bet your G-strings I'm in Las Vegas!
Love is what keeps the world spinning! XOXO
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I love hearing from readers! Feel free to email me with questions and comments @dayadaniels@yahoo.com
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