Chapter Four
I was alone and drunk when I returned to my hotel suite, but not wasted enough to forget that I needed to call my mother to give her the heads-up on my changed living situation.
I dropped heavily down on the sofa and clicked on my phone. It was just shy of 1:00 a.m. I cut out from the party early without even trying to get anything going with Skyler. It was only 10:00 p.m. California time. Mom would be awake—not expecting a call from me, but awake.
I allowed myself a few minutes to argue about whether I should do this since calling one’s mother probably wasn’t a good thing when one had a good buzz going. But hell, I needed to get it out of the way because there wouldn’t be privacy to deal with this the next day while I was working and I didn’t want anyone to hear my unexpectedly fucked-up situation: unemployed, unattached, and soon to be living with Mother.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
I grabbed a section of my hair in a painful clutch and hit the call button. It was time to get this over with. Delaying wasn’t going to make any part avoidable since Zac was sending my things out on UPS to Patricia’s and finding someplace to live in California in twenty-four hour’s notice just wasn’t going to happen.
I could stay at a hotel—
“Hello?”
No backing out now. She’d answered. “Hi, Mom. I hope I didn’t call too late.”
“Graham?” She said that in a mildly confused way as if she had more than one kid walking this earth to call her Mother.
“Yes, it’s me. How is everything going with you?”
That question was answered by silence. OK, launching with inquiring about her must have seemed odd as it was nothing like our usual abbreviated conversations, but I was a good son—evidenced by that very nice home in Newport Beach she was living in. Yep, when Dad passed I took over the responsibility of providing for her what his military pension couldn’t. For once in her life, shouldn’t Patricia be able to help me out here and roll with things without criticism or questions for a change?
I could feel an avalanche of both about to blast me through my cell. My shoulders turned to tightened lead, and there was really no cause for that because I was definitely a good son. Just not overly attentive but, Christ, there was a lot of fault on both sides and I didn’t own all of it.
She made a short, awkward laugh. “I’m fine, dear. But you didn’t call me to find out how I am. Not at this hour. What’s going on, Graham? You sound like you’ve been drinking. Everything OK? You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”
Thank you very little.
The fact that I was a mature, distinguished retiree from the military and professionally successful man would never interfere with Patricia’s entrenched belief that gay would always mean forever teetering on the brink of disaster. My life was so boringly normal when I was off the road it was comical but, no, there was no point in trying to convince my mother of that. It was better not to try.
I blew past her questions and said, “I’m back in California tomorrow. I thought I’d stay in Newport Beach with you for a few days, if that’s all right with you.”
Another nerve-stretching pause.
“Of course it’s OK. And I don’t see as I have any right to tell you that it’s not.”
She made another awkward cackle over her less-than-subtle teasing and, crap, how the hell did the woman still manage to make me feel like I was doing the wrong thing when I’d definitely done right by her?
“It’ll just be for a few days, Mom. A week at tops.”
“No really. As long as you want is fine, dear. It’s been too long since we’ve had a good visit and gotten to catch up with each other. Will you be bringing Zac with you?”
My guts twisted. She tried, I’d give her that, but her voice always had that little clipped tightening when she mentioned Zac. His name snapped by Patricia hit me like a slap because I’d just been cut loose by my lover and it would have been nice to talk to someone about it, but the only relative I had was my mother and there wasn’t even an alternate universe in existence where that would work out OK.
Nope, not happening. “Not this trip, Mom. Like I said it’s just going to be for a few days. I should let you go. It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
I hung up quickly and tossed my phone on the coffee table. That had felt worse than having a tooth drilled without anesthetic. And yes, I’d just lied to my mother but, hell, what man wants to have a middle of the night discussion of his relationship woes with his mother? I didn’t need to add to my misery and that would have definitely added.
I opened the minifridge, scanned the bottles, said no to the booze, and took out a chilled bottle of water instead.
I’d just finished guzzling two-thirds when I heard a quick rap of knuckles against wood. I was a bit wobbly on my feet as I moved toward the door—drinking the water hadn’t accomplished anything to lessen my buzz—but when I looked out into the hallway what I found there sure as hell gave me a hit of instasober.
“You cut out early from the party,” Skyler said in his husky with tentativeness voice. “I thought I should check in on you after my run to make sure you were OK. You seemed out of sorts on the rooftop. Everything’s all right, isn’t it?”
I’d left Skyler behind at the party, unsampled and unapproached, since I wasn’t in the mindset that would be much good for anyone, but he had tracked me down with a very deliberate mindset of his own. Even after being ignored by me on the rooftop he hadn’t given up on trying to get something going. His status with me just went up two levels.
I shrugged. “Sure, I’m great. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You just seemed—” He faltered and this time it didn’t irritate me. I was getting used to his verbal awkwardness. In fact, it made him kind of sweet.
“Seemed what?” I asked, challengingly.
“I don’t know. Like you could use a friend.” He exhaled nervously. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Do you want me to go?”
Really? He was asking that now after having come this far? It couldn’t have been easy for him to knock on my door or to make the first move a second time—though he had decidedly dressed in preparation for better success. He wasn’t any good at the art of the pickup but, oh dear, he knew how to dress for it and put his best assets front and center.
He wasn’t my type, this could never be more than a one-night hookup but, hell, it didn’t matter. A gorgeous man wearing only snug running shorts with his cock looking like it’s about to burst through the fabric worked better any day of the week than Prozac to drive away sudden onset depression. I was beginning to feel perkier, internally and otherwise.
There were worse ways to drown the blues than this. If there was a flaw on his body anywhere I couldn’t find it and, damn, he provided me plenty of him to examine this go-round of attempting to hit on me. His street clothes had only betrayed a hint of what I was gazing upon: from head to toe he was a delectable sculpture of cut and sinewy muscle, and the tan on his face extended richly bronze everywhere.
Well, at least I hoped everywhere.
There was a small part of him still covered.
Not covered so much that it diminished my pleasure and provided enough incitement that inside my head I said hello, beautiful but the only response Skyler earned from me was a wordless gesture with my arm to enter.
“Are you sure?” he asked, but he brushed past me into the room anyway.
“I wouldn’t have invited you in otherwise.” I closed the door and latched it. “I’ve got an open bottle of Jameson. Beer. Wine. A variety of other liquid. What are you drinking?”
“Two fingers—no, make it four—of Jameson.”
The way he said that made me laugh. So Skyler was in need of a little Dutch courage. Interesting. Was it excitement over the possibility of being with me or something else altogether?
I half-filled a glass with Jameson, handed it to him, and settled on the arm of the sofa, watching as he moved around my suite.
He paused in the center of the room, took a long gulp of his drink, and then said, “Jesus Christ, is this how you travel all the time when we’re out on the road?”
I smiled. “Always. Black Star Security wouldn’t give me less than a five-star room in a five-star hotel.”
He made a cheers motion with his glass. “I think I need to talk to my cousin about a few things.”
“Good luck. Jared is a cheap-ass son of a bitch. I’ve been his highest earning bodyguard for seven years. It’s in the interest of his checkbook to keep me happy.”
“I guess so.”
He did an anxious scan around him as if undecided on where to sit. My preference would have been on the couch near me, but we would get there eventually, so it didn’t matter his choice was the chair facing me.
“So do you know what your next job is yet?” I asked casually.
He shook his head. “No. Everyone else has already lined up something except me.”
Well, that was just the cherry on my fucking cake—discovering I was paddling in the same boat as Skyler Mathews, cut loose without my next job in place. Without missing a beat I leaned forward and refilled his glass and then one for me. This conversation definitely entitled me to one last drink tonight.
“Want my advice?” I asked.
His eyes widened. “Sure. From you. Why wouldn’t I?”
I smiled. “Maybe you not having a contract lined up is not such a bad thing. Spend some time in a training program and at the shooting range. At some point, if you stay with Black Star, you’ll get a job where you’ll need to know how to use a weapon.”
“Probably not a bad idea.” His head tilted slightly to one side and, over the rim of his glass, his mouth formed a suggestive half-smirk. “I can’t follow you around forever, hoping you’ll cover me when I need it, now can I?”
Well, well, well. Look who is trying to seize the initiative, but that’s not going to happen here, Skyler.
I set down my drink and settled on the seat of the couch, smack-dab in the center. Slowly I spread my arms wide across the top.
“No, that’s definitely not a good solution,” I answered.
I could see it in his eyes—a touch wounded over what that last comment meant—just as clearly as I noted the signs of his confusion and desire tightening his features.
My eyes made a study of him from hair to toe, pausing on his delectable upper torso, and I went instantly hard with the thoughts of what I’d like to do to him.
My gaze riveted on his. “You don’t stay close enough to me for it to do any good to try to cover you when you need it,” I remarked.
I allowed my expression to change into one of universal invitation to end his mounting uncertainty. And, yes, he’d been worrying this wouldn’t go the way he wanted and that I was about to show him the door.
That weak attempt at flirting on my part was disappointedly moronic but, hell, I’d had a long day and I didn’t need to be witty with Skyler so why waste my energy with that? My feeble attempt got me the response I wanted.
His lust took full possession of him and I enjoyed watching it. The short heavy breaths. His cock straining against his shorts like a beckoning lightning rod. The tension etched across his cheeks as his fingers slowly flexed and unflexed, betraying his desperation to touch himself since I hadn’t touched him yet.
My cock bobbed in response to that, sending my blood coursing through my veins. But it was starting to annoy me that, even after that, Skyler Mathews sat frozen when I’d all but ordered him to close the space between us. He was staring at me from his chair as though he couldn’t tell if I was aroused, too, or what he was supposed to do or even if I wanted him.
And, oh yeah, I wanted him. I just could hide it better.
“I’ll remember that,” he murmured as though testing where my thoughts were about what was soon to go down between us. “Stick close. You won’t have to tell me a second time.”
Yo, Mathews, I just fucking did. And, Christ, he was still all the way across the room from me. Enough flirting. It was time to move on to the fucking. This was getting us nowhere.
Even before our little tête-à-tête, there’d been no question I was going to accept his offer and how this would go down. And in truth, the casual conversation—usually a requirement with me, the illusion of getting to know a guy before I rammed my dick into him—didn’t do a damn thing to enhance my desire so there was really no need to continue it. Getting to know Skyler better wasn’t going to change my opinion about him or the scope of what he had to offer me sexually when he knocked at my suite.
We were exactly where we started ten minutes ago and nothing was going to change that. He was the submissive. I was the dominant. He was here, offering himself like a lamb at the altar of my superior being, to be fucked and taken repeatedly for my pleasure.
The preceding minutes only confirmed what I’d already known when I let him through the door. I could do anything I wanted to this guy and he’d enjoy it, and yet it left a slightly vacuous sensation inside me. I’d been hoping for a carnal range of abilities that clearly were not in his weapons arsenal.
Some days more than others needed to be drained from your consciousness by full-throttle, endless hours of hard fucking. This was one of those days and I didn’t want a sexual neophyte, I didn’t want an intractable submissive—gorgeous though he was. I wanted a guy who could be fucked and fuck like my equal. God, it’d be a sorry epitaph to this pitiful day if this hookup amounted to nothing more than the heterosexual version of the girl just lying there.
Christ, I started to regret having begun this.
“Come here,” I finally ordered, breaking the long silence between us. He moved with the feline grace of a cat from his chair across the carpet to me.
“Looks like I’m a little overdressed,” I said as I palmed the bulge in my pants, not missing the widening of his eyes or the quick dash of his tongue across his lips.
He moved between my legs and slowly, one by one, freed the buttons of my shirt and ran his fingers down my torso then up again.
He spread the fabric wide and took some time to drink in the sight of me. I made a conscious effort to be still. I knew my physique was sexy and intimating. The combination was not at all insignificant. And Skyler looked seriously like he was about to blow his load in his pants because I’d let him partially undress and touch me.
“Finish taking off my shirt,” I commanded and was immediately answered by action. The removal of fabric followed by the run of the wayward touching of his tongue.
I heard my shirt hit the floor. “Stop.” He immediately lifted his face from the nipple he’d been attacking.
He stared down at me, feverish and impatient to be told what to do next. Short, declarative sentences. They were the only things that worked with him thus far. Just fucking great, a man who wanted to be handled and needed it done in simple terms, but it was moving this forward at last.
I raised my hand and ran a thumb down his cheek and then across his lips, teasing before stilling. “Do you have issues with anything I might want to do with you? I’d like to know that before we start.”
It looked like the question startled him. Something inside me warned that a mutually pleasurable sexual experience wasn’t something he held out for.
“Well, do you?” I asked a second time.
“No. I do everything,” he replied, trying to nip my thumb before he leaned in to place open-mouth kisses along my jaw, running his tongue behind the lift of his lips before kissing me again.
Well, hello, Skyler Mathews. I’ve finally found something you know how to do. You’re a fucking gay Geisha.
One thing was for sure, he knew how to use his mouth—I shuddered in anticipation of having those expert lips sucking my cock—and the primitive side of me was flirting with skipping over everything else and shoving him down on his knees.
But I couldn’t do that, not yet. That wasn’t the way things were with me. I was a generous lover and I preferred it that way, and while the signals Skyler put out said fuck me however you wish I wasn’t going to do that.
I slipped my hand up his chest until I palmed the back of his neck, bringing his mouth toward me. I kissed him, my tongue dancing with his, moving out and then penetrating him again. I maintained an expert balance of pressure and movement, an erotic ebb and flow because I could feel at first contact he expected me to roughly devour him.
He tried to deepen the kiss and I outflanked him. Not so fast. We’ll get there. Eventually. I guided him down close beside me on the couch and turned my body into him.
My hand closed over his straining cock, then my fingers slipped inside his shorts, freeing him, and his entire body shivered with the relief of finally being touched.
I never broke our kissing. With masterful control I ran my hand from the base of his staff up to the head, slowly, over and over again, every so often adding a squeeze or tease of my touch on his balls. I changed the flow with every stroke, fast to slow, long movement to short, across the slit or back to tease beneath the head. A sheen of pre-cum glossed the tip, and I gathered a drop with a finger, bringing it to his lips as I ran my tongue to lap up the remainder.
Every muscle in his body began to shimmy and he closed his eyes as if he were savoring how slowly I was stoking him, and I allowed myself a moment to wonder what kind of fucking men this poor guy had been with.
He wasn’t used to being touched. He wasn’t used to being pleasured. And he couldn’t take much more of either, though we’d hardly begun.
I lifted my hand, kissed the edges of the tight line of his lips then eased back from him. If I stroked him much longer he’d come. He was that keyed up.
I studied him as he remained arched with his head lying on the sofa cushion, breathing heavily. What the hell was Skyler’s story? He had the sexual assertiveness of a flea, the expert moves of a seasoned pro, and the stimulation threshold of an adolescent boy.
Just out of the closet, or conflicted gay in hiding still living a heterosexual lie, or taken-advantage-of gay man? I was positive it was one of them. He tried too hard and gave too quickly. He needed to be toughened up a bit. Mentally. Physically. And emotionally. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was why, as woefully inadequate as Skyler obviously was for work as a bodyguard, Jared hired and sent him here.
To be toughened up by the work—correction: me.
I was still trying to decide what direction to take this when he quickly dropped to the floor between my knees and freed my cock from my jeans before I could stop him.
Oh, fuck me. Oh, fuck me. Oh, fuck me.
His mouth latched onto me in a way that forced out a ragged groan and my eyes to roll briefly back. His seal around my flesh was that fucking amazing. He’d clearly perfected the art of the blowjob, his expertise evident in how he worked his tongue and lips across every swollen inch of me. And the way he did it told me he definitely was not conflicted about his sexuality. I could cross that one off my concern list.
Nope, he loved sucking cock. That just wasn’t something a dude could fake. A man can’t do this—pull on a guy’s dick with his mouth, deep-throat it greedily to take it all, swirl over the head, nip at the sensitive skin on the crown—not with that kind of eagerness and fervor unless he’s done it a lot and cock was his thing.
“Oh fuck,” I murmured, thrusting my pelvis because, as unlike me as it was, he did this so well I was near to dropping my load in his mouth.
He lifted his mouth from my shaft, aggressively running his spit down my length with his fingers, and took my balls in his mouth momentarily, before he flatted his tongue against me then started roughly sucking again.
I peered down at him through lowered lashes and he stared up at me, his blond hair mussed out of nowhere—at least I thought nowhere because I couldn’t recall having touched it—and he looked like a ravished angel huddled between my knees, devouring me. His blue eyes locked with mine and what I felt in my heart wasn’t a flutter, it was something else entirely, something that made this not feel as good as it did when he’d started.
While a blowjob this good was always a find, something about the heated, expert moves of his mouth bothered me. Unexpectedly in my mind flashed images of an old movie—Jane Fonda in Klute—that scene where the hooker seems really into it and then checks her watch.
Oh fuck. That’s what I was feeling here. It all looked right. Skyler wasn’t inept at giving head. But it didn’t feel right and that bugged the hell out of me. Maybe I’d just become too picky in my sexual preferences but, hell, I wasn’t about to shoot into his mouth until I figured out what was going on here.
Did he want this or was this all a put-on? I couldn’t tell for sure whether he was fucking my cock with his mouth because he I thought I expected it or because he wanted to. Even as deliciously as he used his tongue to fuel my arousal, not being sure what the answer was to that made it time to hit the pause button.
I stopped the movements of his head by burying my fingers in his hair and lifting him from me. For a split second I couldn’t fucking believe I was really stopping this.
“Why don’t we slow down a bit?” I ordered, trying not to give over to how expertly aroused he’d made me. Positive reinforcement over the wrong thing was never good.
Fuck, I knew that saying was not intended to apply to this situation, but it was true nonetheless. He relaxed back on his haunches, his entire face burnish red as his eyes did a frantic search of me as if trying to figure out what was happening here.
“Isn’t this what you want?”
Fuck yeah—“Not entirely.” I was good that way at finding nonconfrontational middle ground on the fly.
Or maybe I wasn’t that good. He looked dejected and worried.
“Would you rather fuck me?”
Oh shit.
Those five words made me more certain than ever that we needed some regrouping. Fuck, I didn’t have a problem with fast-forwarding to hard fucking, but even the dudes in gay porno flicks required more foreplay before getting on their knees than Skyler did. I didn’t like that it felt as if this was the way he thought it should happen being with a man, as if he’d never learned otherwise.
I dissected what I was seeing on his face, and I knew the answers to every question in my head before I asked them.
“You haven’t lived as a gay man very long, have you?”
He flushed. “Why do you say that?”
He looked at me, lost and confused, and I experienced a wash of something akin to pure tenderness toward him. A casual hookup was all this was, I wasn’t sure why I was going to so much bother, but I wanted it to be good for him. Christ, it was obvious that the guy needed that.
I tucked my cock back into my pants, moved around him, and then crossed the room to the table. After lighting a cigarette I stood there gazing at him through the smoke.
“Answer my question,” I prodded firmly.
His jaw tightened before he looked away.
“Fine, Skyler. It’s not really necessary, anyway.”
Annoyed, I settled on the edge of the desk and took another long drag as I waited for him to make eye contact with me. I wanted to see into his eyes when I spoke again. I wanted this to be useful and not crushing. When he finally dared to lift his eyes to mine, I attempted a careful search for words, but there was no way to put this that wouldn’t come out harsh, so in the interests of helping him, I stated it bluntly.
“You have the tentative, hopeful pickup technique of a man not used to easily getting any with a woman, combined with the overly aggressive fuck technique of a gay man used to being used. You haven’t learned how to pick up and have sex with men like a man yet. If I were to guess, I’d say you’ve been living the gay lifestyle about a year and before that you didn’t experiment at all.”
His eyes flashed with temper. “I do just fine for myself, in case you didn’t know that, you fucking self-righteous prick.”
Bravo.
Now he was showing some spirit.
I hadn’t worded it that way for nothing.
I maintained an inscrutable expression that sent him back on his heels even more. “You’re a very attractive man. You don’t have to work so hard. Frankly, you’d do better if you didn’t.”
Flustered and overwhelmed, he sprang to his feet. “Great. I’ll file that away for later. Do you want me to go?”
I ran my gaze down the length of him and I could almost feel the second his pulse jumped and his cock stiffened. The bulge in his shorts only grew as I held him in place with my eyes, though for what it was worth, he did fight not to betray his arousal.
“Hell no,” I murmured huskily and, to my surprise, I’d meant that.
Skyler wasn’t a fuckup or inept or born irritating, he was just fresh from box to the world of cocks and he was still learning and unsure of himself.
“Stand down. I like you,” I assured him. “I didn’t when we first met. And I didn’t when you walked through the door. I was still undecided while you were sucking my dick, but I do now. I like you.”
That made just a hint of a smile rise to his lips even as his hand nervously raked his messy blond hair as if he still couldn’t get his head around what the fuck was happening here.
“I want you to stay the night,” I said so as not to leave any doubt that this wasn’t over for either of us. “But only if you are willing to spend the night with me my way. I want you to fuck me first. Then I want to show you how utterly wonderful it can feel to be fucked.”
That got his attention. He gaze wasn’t fretfully darting toward the door every few seconds any longer. He stared at me unrelentingly, his mouth gaping.
I stomped out my cigarette, took his hand, and led him into the bedroom. His eyes followed me as I moved around the room, discarding clothes, and then retrieved from my bag a handful of condoms that I left on the nightstand.
Once I was completely undressed, I settled on the bed in an inviting posture. The way he stared down at me, nervous and out of his depth, was cute as hell and caused me to laugh, though I probably shouldn’t have as fragile as I’d made him in the sitting room. But, Christ, when he didn’t get in his own way Skyler was sexy as hell even wearing that expression—pensive and afraid and like he didn’t know what to do next with me.
In fairness, he didn’t.
“Take off those shorts and come here,” I told him slowly yet firmly. He pushed them down and his cock sprang free, then he kicked them out of his way, and walked slowly to the bed.
My eyes leisurely raked his body and he was definitely a well-endowed man. If the phrase tall hot blond had been invented for anyone it had been created to describe Skyler Mathews.
No, amend that. It needed long and thick to make it perfect for him. It had been a long time since I’d done bottom and never before for a guy who didn’t know how to top. I waited patiently and his cock did a nice little bob as if he were thinking about what he wanted to do to me and wasn’t quite sure if I’d let him.
Well, fuck that.
I grabbed his wrists and pulled his body down close to mine, not fully touching but near enough so he could feel me.
“Touch me. Any way you want. If I don’t like it I’ll tell you,” I instructed him. “If you don’t like what I do, tell me.”
The feverish anticipation rose on his flesh as I started to explore the perfect lines of his body. I brought our cocks together, teasing his base with my balls as I brought him toward me for a kiss. He sucked in so deeply I was surprised there was oxygen in my lungs. He immediately started masturbating us.
As our lips devoured, I invaded him with my tongue, making the movement of his hand grow faster. When I took his cock to stroke him, the rapid thrusts of him against me warned that he wasn’t going to last long even if we moved to penetration now.
Releasing his throbbing cock, I touched his cheek and his lids flew wide. “Do you want me to open up for you? Are you ready to be in me?”
Skyler’s eyes glazed over and he could only manage a nod. As I pulled myself away from him, he lay there trembling like a virgin girl with no idea of how to get what he needed. He anxiously watched as I lubed myself up and put a condom on him.
He was near the edge of the bed, but not quite enough for this to work well, so through kisses and strokes I moved and positioned him so I could plant one leg on the ground and place myself above his pulsing erection. I lowered down onto his cock, guiding him into me, keeping complete control of how I filled me with him.
I remained perfectly still the first few moments after I gloved him. His groan of pleasure vibrated through his body like a shock wave. Then I started to move, sliding his length, feeling him swell within me. I fingered his sac, caressing his base, then clutched his glans. The features of his face tightened and he quivered with each masterful stroke of my claiming him. I was more turned on than he had awareness to notice. He was on fire and that lit an inferno inside me. And when I felt him near the edge, I made a sudden change to how I wanted to end this first fuck with him—and yeah, there was no way there was only going to be one.
I glided upward until he was out of me, and then stood beside the bed where my engorged shaft could taunt his lips. He took me in his mouth and I guided his hand to his erection. Fucking his mouth with heated thrusts, I watched as his hand rapidly pumped his staff. I’d pushed Skyler to the brink of orgasm when I rode him. It didn’t take long for him to push himself over the edge. My fingers clutched his hair, quickening his mouth on me, as the slurping tunnel surrounding me tightened. His cum erupted through his fingers, spraying across his abdomen, and I let loose my load deep into his throat.
I took only a moment to lay my head against the headboard to catch my breath before I slid my dick out of his mouth sooner than I normally liked to. Skyler was a moaning, trembling mess. Even though he’d come it was obvious he was still keyed up and wasn’t quieting anytime soon.
Easing down beside him on the bed, I gathered him against me as his head fell limply on my chest and his eyes closed with disoriented pleasure.
I didn’t fault him for his emotional disarray or his inability to rally from having fucked me. I liked him better for how moved he was by what I’d let him have with me. I’d been exactly where he was, knowing full well how good it felt the first time a strong gay man fucked you as his equal. And that’s what I’d done with him, shown him the difference between submitting and being used, and experiencing the full ecstasy achievable when two men are generous and respectful with each other. There was no sexual combustion on earth greater than two alpha men taking each other as equals.
OK, so I hadn’t gotten there with him yet. I hadn’t brought Skyler to that height with what we just did. He’d only glimpsed it. But there was a lot of time left before I had to leave for the airport.
I lay there lightly touching and kissing him—twenty minutes, no more—and my cock answered with a quick return to action.
I turned him onto his back and he lay there pliantly surrendering to me as those sky-blue eyes glowed. I worshipped every inch of him with my mouth and touch. I brought his arousal to a scalding boil and when I positioned myself between his legs, pausing to sheath myself, his knees went up in eager anticipation because he wanted me to be in him.
When I was at last buried deeply inside him, he groaned like a bitch in heat. In every way he could, he urged me to go deeper, harder, faster, and the heat of his arousal glistened on his tanned skin as he shivered in ecstasy with each of my thrusts into him.
Welcome to my world, Skyler Mathews.