by E M Lindsey
Rowan’s face settled into something soft as he brushed the flat of his palms up James’ thighs, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of his sweats and swiftly pulled them off.
James’ erection was pronounced, tenting the front of his boxers, twitching with desire to be touched. Rowan didn’t give in, not right away. He pressed his fingertips into the warm skin of James’ legs and held his hands there.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Rowan muttered. His gaze was fixed on the strip of skin right above his boxers. James wasn’t really a hairy guy, but he wasn’t smooth either. Rowan lifted one hand and dragged his blunt nails through James’ coarse hair just under his belly button. “I want to make you come. Do you want to direct me, or do you want me to take the lead?”
“I don’t really know what the fuck I want,” James admitted, dropping off his elbows, the back of his head sinking into his pillow. He covered his face with one hand. “I mean, I know what I want—I want you to make me come. I just…I wish this wasn’t so hard.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Rowan told him. “I have a few ideas. I want to kiss you, from head to toe. I want to suck your dick, then finish you with my hand. I’d like you to watch that if you can, but if it’s easier to close your eyes…”
James let out a slow breath as Rowan dragged his hand upward, his thumb rubbing a circle around his nipple. The edge of it caught his nipple ring again, tugging it a bit, sending more sensation straight to his dick. “Just…can you go for it, and if I don’t like something, I can tell you?”
“Yes,” Rowan said. He surged up, bracketing James’ head with both hands pressed to the pillow, and he let his body rest some of his weight on top of him. “If it gets to be too much, for whatever reason, we stop.”
James nodded, biting his lip. He knew sex was no replacement for therapy—and it wasn’t like he was going to cure all the bullshit his father beat into him with one round of getting himself off with another man, but it was a start. And he was kind of hoping it would feel so good, it would eclipse all the rest. Even if it was just for a little while.
He reached up with a tentative gesture, and pushed his fingers through Rowan’s hair. His hair had a natural curl, coarse and thick, and James tugged on a few of the strands, enjoying the way it made Rowan groan softly and push into it. “Can we start with kissing?” he asked.
Rowan grinned, then lowered his head. “Absolutely.” The word was still echoing between them when the distance disappeared, and a warm tongue pushed itself inside James’ mouth. James opened easily, willingly, letting the taste and feel of Rowan overwhelm his senses. His hands moved to grip at Rowan’s sides, not really thinking, just letting instinct take him, and it was good.
It was so fucking good. It was somehow less and more than he imagined all at once, and he knew if he wasn’t careful, it would get to be too much.
“James.” Rowan’s voice broke through his thoughts, and James managed to open one eye, taking in Rowan’s face which hovered above him. “Are you okay?”
James bit his lip, then nodded. “This feels so stupid.”
Rowan blinked like he was startled. “What does?”
James waved one hand up and down the side of his body. “This. Having to treat me like some fragile horny teenager because I’ve never…”
Rowan’s grip on his hip tightened, quieting his words. “Taking it slow isn’t because you’ve never done this before.” When James snorted with disbelief, Rowan shook his head. “This isn’t about virginity, this is about what your brain has spent years associating sex with. You’re not the first person I’ve fucked who had hang-ups about sex.”
James let out a small puff of air, not quite sure if he was ready to believe Rowan, but there was truth in his tone. “I’m frustrated.”
“I know.” Rowan leaned in to kiss him again, a soft, sweet thing. “You won’t be forever. I’m going to touch you now. A lot. If you want me to stop, just say stop. And if you can’t say anything, just slap me. Wherever you can reach.”
James bit the inside of his cheek, then nodded and let his eyes fall closed. He knew Rowan wanted him to watch, but he needed that barrier between his mind and his body right then. He wanted to get lost in the feel of it before letting himself think.
Rowan didn’t waste time after that, at least. He dove right in, his hands brushing along James’ naked, oversensitive sides. His mouth dragged along his skin, open, teeth scraping his flesh, his tongue laving to soothe the bites.
“Good,” James grunted, his hand finding its way into Rowan’s hair to hold his head at a sensitive spot just to the right of his nipple. “Right there. S’good, darlin’. Do it again.”
He could feel Rowan smiling against him, but then Rowan took his nipple between his teeth. He bit down on the barbell, then pulled back just enough to make it sting before letting go, and James found his hips humping upward, desperate for friction.
Rowan reached between them and grabbed James’ cock, which was still tucked inside his boxers, and he rubbed along his shaft with the heel of his palm. It was too much. James realized he was even closer than he had been in the shower, and he found himself smacking against Rowan’s side.
Rowan pulled back instantly, in a half-crouch, hovered over James’ torso. “Talk to me.”
“Too close,” James said. “Like, really close. Not ready to come yet.”
Rowan nodded, biting his lip as he his gaze traveled the length of James’ body. “You’re really hot when you’re worked up. Do you want to switch for a bit? Touch me instead?”
“Yes,” James said, his mouth understanding what he wanted before his brain could process it. He was halfway to sitting up as it hit him how badly he wanted to get his hands on this man. It wasn’t just about him, it wasn’t just about feeling someone bring him to orgasm. He wanted to know he was capable of doing that for someone else.
He shifted, grimacing at the fact that he was still wearing his prosthetics, and bit his lip as he looked down at his feet.
“Do you mind if I, uh…” He gestured down at his legs.
“I don’t,” Rowan told him, moving to the side.
James nodded, moving to the edge of the bed, and he depressed the button, releasing the suction that held them on. He felt that familiar rush of relief, the faint plumping sensation in the bottom of his stumps, ending two inches below his knee. He grimaced at the smell of his socks, the thick rubber giving him a musky scent. It wasn’t sexy, but when he turned to look back at Rowan, he found the other man lying against the pillows, wearing only boxers, his hand curled around his dick, which had slipped out of the flap in the front.
Rowan’s hand was stroking it, long pulls, his foreskin pushing up toward the head just a little. It was a sort of wet sound, and when the light caught his shaft, James realized Rowan must have licked his palm before touching himself.
“Shit, that’s so hot,” he murmured.
Rowan chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest, and he used his free hand to beckon James over. It was far less awkward with his legs off, balancing on his knees and hands as he shuffled to straddle Rowan’s thighs. He couldn’t take his eyes off the motion of Rowan’s hand.
It was not the first time he’d seen another man’s dick. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen another man’s erection. But it was the first time he had tacit permission to put his hands and mouth anywhere. More than that, it was the first time he wanted to. His mouth watered as he tried to imagine what Rowan’s dick would feel like on his tongue—heavy and thick, the tip leaking down his throat.
He tried to suppress a groan, and found himself palming his own cock to give himself a little relief. “I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted.
Rowan’s smile was unassuming, his hand reaching out as he thumbed James’ bottom lip. “Chances are, anything you like to do to yourself, I’ll enjoy you doing to me. But I can tell you what my favorite things are, if you want me to.”
“Let me just try something firs
t.” Feeling bold, James reached out and pushed Rowan’s hand aside, replacing it with his own. He felt it throb under his palm, squeezing with just a bare amount of pressure, and he gave a firm stroke up. Rowan’s breath caught in his throat, and James looked up to see the pleasure open on his face.
“That’s good,” Rowan encouraged. “A little tighter.”
James increased his grip, the angle a little awkward, but he didn’t much care. He was close to coming just watching this, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back. “Okay, tell me what you like.”
“I like this, I like it wet,” Rowan said. “I’m going to bring lube next time.”
James felt foolish for not having any on hand, but a small part of him never thought he’d ever get here. “What else?” he asked before his mind could go down that road.
“I like having my dick sucked,” Rowan said. “I like it when the person sucks the head and strokes the rest of it. I also like having my dick sucked with someone’s fingers in my ass.”
“Shit,” James gasped. His dick twitched, and he thrust against Rowan’s thigh once, twice, and then he came. His entire body curled at the middle, and he lost his grip as it hit him. He didn’t notice Rowan catching him until warm hands eased him onto his side.
His entire body burned with humiliation, taking the place of the ebbing pleasure, and he pushed his red face into the side of the pillow. He was shaking with it, his ears ringing, his face starting to go numb. His breath got a little tight, and it wasn’t until Rowan squeezed the back of his neck that he was able to take in a full lungful of air.
“I’m sorry,” Rowan murmured.
James shook his head as he came back to himself. “Lord, no. It’s not you, it’s…I’m so fucking embarrassed.”
Rowan shifted, and James felt him line his front up against his back, curling around him. He pressed a warm kiss to the nape of his neck, breathing him in. “I understand why, but at some point in the future you’re going to get how unbelievably hot it was to have you come just from touching me. That’s…” Rowan trailed off with a tense laugh. “I don’t even have words for how special that was.”
James let out a shaking sigh and turned his head just slightly so he could breathe better. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Believe me, I’m not lying. It isn’t a virgin thing, James. I might have been quick to blow my load at seventeen, but never like that. I have never been that turned on.” Rowan kissed him again.
“Isn’t that fuckin’ ridiculous that I’m so horny I come just from touching your dick? You’re still hard,” he pointed out.
Rowan wriggled until his erection was pressed against James’ lower back, still hard, still wet at the tip. “It was a close one, trust me.” He leaned forward, resting his half-open mouth against the back of James’ shoulder and simply laid there.
James’ eyes drifted closed for a bit, allowing this small comfort, this reprieve from his spiral up, and crash down. It might have felt worse if Rowan had taken off right after, but he seemed content to lay there with James and just hold him.
“Are you uncomfortable?” Rowan asked after a beat.
James hummed. “No, why?”
“You’re tense.”
James couldn’t help his laugh. “I’m still technically a virgin. You never got to touch me, and I came in my fuckin’ boxers like a high school freshman. I know you said it’s hot, but it’s hard to feel real good about what I just did.”
Rowan laughed, burying the sound against James’ still warm skin. “Fair enough. But unless you’re ready to call it a night, there’s plenty of time to rectify the whole not touching you thing. I still want to suck your dick.”
James groaned, his face going warm again, and he laid his hand over Rowan’s in case the man got any ideas like leaving.
“I’m cool with that.”
He could feel Rowan’s grin pressed against him. “Yeah.”
James huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”
Chapter Eight
James didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the crash of endorphins wiped him, and he bolted awake sometime later with a gasp. Rowan was still there, to his absolute surprise, leaning up on one elbow with his fingers swirling around James’ hairy stomach.
“Bad dream?” Rowan asked.
James flopped back, dragging a hand down his face. “No. No dream, actually. Didn’t mean to pass out, either.”
Rowan smiled at him. “You needed it. You had an endorphin crash and that takes a lot out of a person. It’s always good to help the refractory rate too.” At that, his hand dragged lower, cupping James where he was surprisingly hard again. This time, the warm grip brought him pleasure without sending him shooting toward the end.
“Shit,” James moaned, arching his hips toward Rowan’s clever grasp.
Rowan’s grin went a little feral as he dug two fingers into the boxer slit and carefully drew James’ cock out. It was hard not to try and compare them, but Rowan didn’t give him much time at all to focus on that before he was licking his palm and gripping James’ rock-hard shaft.
“You’re not cut. I like that,” Rowan murmured. He shuffled lower, nosing along James’ ribs, easing his legs into a wide V as he slipped between them. His hand didn’t stop the gentle stroking, a little twist up at the head, a long pull down to the base, then back up again.
James felt his hips move with the motion of Rowan’s arm, and the simulated fuck was waking him up all over. “You’re not, either,” he pointed out, pushing into the circle of Rowan’s fist.
Rowan leaned forward, dragging his parted lips just under James’ belly button. “Mm, no. I’m not. Some day when you suck me, you’ll see how good it is—how perfect the slide is when someone fucks into your mouth.”
“Lord,” James groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He let himself sink into the sensations, his body still heavy with sleep, with the endorphin crash, but Rowan’s grip kept him grounded. He felt him nipping and kissing his skin, nosing down the crook of his thigh, pushing under his balls and taking a deep breath. James almost looked, almost lifted onto his elbows to see what was going to happen next, and then warm heat engulfed him. It was so unexpected, so hot and all-encompassing, he pushed his head far back against the pillows and let his hips thrust outward.
For his part, Rowan took it, opening his throat, leaving one hand at the base of James’ dick, the other reaching between his legs to push against the space between his balls and asshole. It sent a zinging, intense pleasure shooting through him, better than he’d ever felt. His breath stuttered in his chest, and he made a noise like a wounded animal— somewhere between a moan and a sob. His hands flailed into the bedsheets as Rowan’s thumb pushed and pushed, and his mouth sucked and sucked.
James felt like he’d been catapulted to another plane of existence as his orgasm ripped through him. It started in his belly, shooting into his limbs. His balls went tight, and he felt himself spilling into Rowan’s mouth. He could feel the other man swallowing around him, sucking every drop, and he kept at it until the sensation was unbearable and James had to shove him away.
“…keep that up and there will be no saving you, boy. Don’t you care about your soul? Don’t you want to see your momma when you die? You’ll be burning in hell and she’ll be in heaven knowin’ you made that choice!”
“James.” The soft call of his name brought him back, and he felt Rowan’s gentle hands brushing at his cheeks. The air was cold, and it took a second for him to realize he was shaking and crying.
“Fuck. Fuck,” he gasped.
He tried to roll away, but Rowan kept a firm hold on him, one hand pressed to the back of his head, the other at the small of his back. He was bigger than Rowan, and had far more mass, but in his arms, he felt small and protected. He sniffed, then buried his face against the other man’s chest.
“As though this night couldn’t get any more humiliating,” he said with a wet laugh.
After a beat, Rowan eased him back, clearing up his
cheeks with his thumbs. “That was a lot.”
James nodded, his brain far too much of a mess to come up with anything sarcastic to deflect just how much he’d been affected. He’d wanted to just get it over with—had figured it wouldn’t fucking matter once he did it. He wanted to believe his willpower was enough to keep that old bastard’s words out of his bed.
“I’m going to get you some water,” Rowan said, carefully peeling him away from where James was still octopussed around him.
James let go with only a little reluctance, frowning up as Rowan stood. “Why?”
“Because,” Rowan said simply. He looked at James another moment, then stepped out of the room. James could hear him moving around, the click of the waterspout on the fridge when he filled a cup. He could hear the soft tapping of his feet on the wood floors as he moved around the room, and James assumed he was tidying up their leftover dinner mess.
Rowan returned a few minutes later, setting the cup on the nightstand, and he dropped to his knee at the edge of the bed. Rowan wasn’t hard anymore, and James had no idea if it was from coming or if James’ whole mental breakdown had wilted his hard-on. He was too mortified to ask. He was too mortified to do anything other than just lay there on his side and stare.
After a beat, Rowan sighed and picked up the glass, holding it out to him. “Trust me.”
James’ fingers were still shaking a bit, but he took it from the other man and swallowed a few mouthfuls. Rowan was right. It instantly soothed his aching throat, and he set it down with a sigh as Rowan turned and sat next to him.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked.
James turned his face and pressed it into the pillow, taking in a suffocating breath. When he turned back, there were little spots dancing in his vision, and he blinked them away. “We didn’t really agree to the whole sleep-over thing. You said you didn’t really have room for the rest of it, and I swear I’m cool with it.”