SIXTEEN
Fuck if Micah was going to follow his royal highness back to his room to sulk. He wasn’t chasing after a grown damned man who couldn’t deal with his own problems. Micah spooned another serving of food onto his plate and…realized he’d had no right to say the things he had to the man.
“Damn it, Kit, why do you have to be so damned fragile?” He muttered to the abandoned half eaten spaghetti across the table from him. “You don’t eat right. Or sleep right. One day man…” He stopped talking when the walls in the room shook. The sound of hard driving, heart attack inducing rock music blasted from somewhere nearby. In the week he’d been there, he’d never heard Kit do anything as aggressively angry as heavy metal until it shook the entire house. That was Micah’s thing. Kit was video games and dark rooms with old movies to keep the monsters at bay.
Beauty had a dark side after all. Micah stuffed food in his mouth and chewed. The room throbbed with music. His body ached from sitting on the damned floor, while he stuffed his face and went to flab. If anyone needed to let off some steam it was Micah. He’d go for a run if there was someone else here to babysit his royal pain in the ass. Or he’d go for a drive. Find a deserted stretch of highway and give his girl a good run. If it wasn’t snowing. How long had it been since he’d driven in the snow? Six years? Maybe more but that wasn’t in a vintage sports car.
Not happening. He was stuck here doing domestic shit like cooking and…fuck, he needed to do the dishes and…Micah set his food on the table. Maybe he tossed it. He’d buy the kid a new plate if he needed to.
Shit.
He stood up and stretched. His legs and back were bitching about sitting down there—to flirt with some pretty boy. Jesus, he was a prick.
Micah gathered up the remains of lunch and piled it all back on the tray. He grabbed his beer and hauled everything back out to the kitchen. The food he put in the fridge in case they were hungry later and wanted to revisit lunch. The dishes went into the dishwasher. He didn’t give a shit if anything was delicate. They were rich. They could buy new. He wiped the stove and counters down and grabbed his jacket and boots. He thought about putting them on and going outside. The snow was falling heavier now, the sky growing darker as the storm moved in blocking out the sun. It was barely midafternoon and he didn’t have shit to keep him occupied.
He bypassed the patio door and went back into the apartment he now shared with the resident spook. He stopped at Kit’s room to say something. Maybe even apologize. But the room was as dark and as silent as the grave. He flicked the light on to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Nope. Empty.
Micah dropped his things off in his room and thought about climbing back into the bed for another nap, but the thrumming music penetrated the walls and piqued his curiosity.
He followed the sound past the tiny kitchenette he’d thought to be the far end of Kit’s domain, through a door he’d thought to be a closet and down a long hallway. Again with no windows. What did the people who built this wing have against windows? The walls in the hall were covered in gilt framed portraits of long dead people. Some fine art work that should possibly be in a museum were displayed alongside the family. Antique sofas and settees sat against the walls under the picture gallery between the sculptures and empty planters.
Metallica rocked out, shaking the frames and Micah swore one of the old dudes frowned in disapproval. In the middle of all this was a set of double pocket doors, only partially open to let light spill out onto the gleaming hardwood floor.
Micah followed the metal and the light and had to grab onto the door frame at the sight before him.
The room was a long rectangle with polished wood floors and a series of tall windows on one side and antique mirrors around the other three walls mimicking the windows. Snow fell outside in the gray light of day, the effect reflected in the mirrors to create a strange winter wonderland.
And in the middle of all this elegance, mild mannered geek boy Christopher Auberon, stripped naked to the waist launched himself in midair to land a perfect kick to the head of a punching dummy. He was sweaty and angry. His long pale hair dripping into his face, and he pushed it back with stiff fingers while he struck out with his other foot to again land a solid blow to his opponent’s head.
The song came to an end, and Kit spun his direction. His eyes went large before they narrowed and he shot Micah a look that could only mean for him to shove himself someplace dark and tight. And not in a good way.
“You’re pretty good at that,” Micah said, refusing to take the hint. He knew he’d been an ass. Time to make up for it. “Want something to aim at that isn’t bolted to the floor?”
Kit dropped his hands and flexed his fingers before replying. “Is that your way of offering to let me kick you in the head?”
“You have to be able to get to my head to kick it.” Micah undid a couple of buttons and yanked his shirt over his head. He leaned over to stretch out his complaining muscles. His back screamed at the pull of the stitches but he ignored it.
“Ah, yes, I forgot you’re combat trained.” Now Kit was just taunting him. Micah shot him a middle finger sign and stretched a little more. Purposefully drawing this out to see how flustered he could make Kit.
Kit smirked and replied in kind before turning his back on Micah to jab at the stationary dummy.
“What is this place anyway? I’ve never been in a gym with parquet floors.” Micah lunged to stretch his leg muscles. “Looks like a dance floor. Do you waltz, pretty boy?”
Kit stared at Micah’s reflection in the mirror. His head cocked in that way that made Micah think he was plotting his next move very carefully.
“Are you asking me out, old man?” He signed slowly so Micah could follow in reverse.
“Old man? I’ll show you an old man,” Micah noticed Kit looked everywhere but at his own reflection. He also noticed the scarring that marred the otherwise flawless skin of the man’s back and shoulders.
“Whenever you’re done stretching, Gramps.” Kit turned back to smirk and sign.
“I had a ceiling fall on me this week. Forgive me for being a little stiff.” Micah watched as the smirk faded and guilt entered Kit’s eyes. “Not your fault, Kit. Stop beating yourself up over shit you can’t control.”
“If you’d get your ass on the mat I’d beat you up instead.” Kit’s taunts had lost their spark.
“That’s because you want my ass.” Micah had no idea why he tossed that out.
“You flatter yourself, Beastly,” Kit replied, but Micah saw the blush he tried to hide.
“Admit it, Chris, I make your boy parts quiver.” Micah stepped up onto the mat as Kit’s eyes narrowed. There was no more kidding around. Kit turned and landed the first blow. A punch to Micah’s jaw, one that Micah hadn’t anticipated.
“No more talking about my boy parts unless you’re man enough to not pussy out…” The next part was lost as Kit went for him again.
This time Micah was ready. This time Micah didn’t underestimate his opponent. This time he deflected the punch and countered with his own. Kit spun out of his reach at the last minute and swung into a kick.
“I didn’t pussy out.” Micah blocked the kick and aimed a punch for Kit’s head.
Kit backed away, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he pushed his hair back and secured it in a tight ponytail on top of his head. “Then what was that back there? You were flirting. I’m not exactly up on social cues but that was flirting. And then you fucking changed the subject. Was it all to get me to let down my guard so that you could pump me for information?”
Kit launched another attack and kept coming at him. Hands and feet and silent fury. Micah deflected the blows, spinning and dodging out of Chris’s reach, then back in to range. He caught glimpses of them in the mirrors as they danced around each other.
“I’m not pumping you for information.” Micah swiped Kit’s legs out from underneath him and put him on the floor.
“Then what the fuck was that?” Kit ignored his offered hand. He was up and bouncing again before Micah could catch his breath, hands flying faster than Micah could think.
“Slow down so I can understand you. Jesus, I’m impressed that you can fight and sign, but I’m not that coordinated.” Micah knew he evaded the question, but fuck, he was trying to do two things at once. Three if you counted trying not to be fucking turned on.
“I am multi-talented like that.” Kit’s hands slowed down, but his feet didn’t. He spun and Micah deflected his leg. Grabbing his shin, Micah twisted Kit around and threw him to the mat.
“That should keep you from gloating. You smug bastard.” Micah threw the words back with his hands. He couldn’t catch his breath long enough to speak.
“I’m smug?” Kit bounced right back onto his feet that smug fucking expression getting worse as Micah struggled to keep up. “You’re out of shape.”
“I died a year ago. I’m doing pretty good for a dead man.” Micah spit blood from his mouth. “When the fuck did you get me in the jaw?”
“I didn’t hit you that hard. You must have bit yourself. What do you mean you died? Nothing I’ve read about you mentions you’d died in that attack.” Kit was distracted but not so much that he didn’t counter Micah’s next move and send Micah to the mat with one well place punch to his thigh.
“So you read up on me? And you get pissed because I don’t know shit about you. Shit, that might be why you’re getting death threats. Sounds like you got your panties in a twist about nothing.” Micah dragged his ass off the mat and wiped sweat from his eyes. “Fuck, Chris, you’re kicking my ass.”
“There are other things I’d rather do to your ass.” The signs were slow, almost hesitant, as if he were trying not to blurt that out. But he was talking with his hands so he had to think about what he said. Not like shit that slips off a tongue and can’t be taken back.
“See, that, that right there. That’s the problem. I can’t say things like that to you because you’re my boss. We’re not friends. We’re not dating. We’re not supposed to say shit like that. I’m trying not to say shit like that. Because I want so much to say how much I want to take you to bed and kiss you and maybe do more than a couple of quick jerk offs in a chair. But goddammit, Chris, shit like that is over the line in the military and in law enforcement.”
Micah leaned over, hands on his knees trying to not pass out. “Fuck, I’m out of shape.”
“You’re not so bad. Tell me about being dead. Please.” Kit sat down on the mat and crossed his legs into a pretzel, feet tucked on top of his bent knees.
“Tell me how the hell anyone can sit like that?” Micah crashed down onto the mat and lay on his back panting and sweating.
Kit got up and walked away. Micah couldn’t feel his legs or his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sparred with anyone. Since his injury he’d been through physical therapy and mental therapy and therapy therapy. He took his morning runs. And did cardio like a fiend. But he’d had no reason to keep up with his training.
“Fucking cupcake detail, my ass.” He shouted to the ceiling that had little mirrors all over it, like tiny little stars, and gold painted rafters. “He has a gym in a ballroom and kicked my ass all over it, but they needed a bodyguard? Well, fuck me twice and call me stupid.”
A water bottle fell on his chest. Along with a drop of sweat that wasn’t his. “Here, Stupid, don’t have a heart attack.” Kit stood over him smiling down on him before squatting to get closer. He cracked open a second bottle and drained half of it while Micah lay there staring in…awe. And for the first time that he’d ever seen Kit opened his mouth to speak, mouthing the word drink.
Micah lunged up, grabbing the man around his waist to drag him closer. He sat with a startled escapee from a Hobbit movie straddling his lap. He tilted Kit’s bottle to his own lips and did as he was told. Kit leaned in and rested his forehead to Micah’s.
“I didn’t die that day.” He tried to keep the images from that day last year from becoming a full blown waking nightmare. “I should have. I was damned close to it. Or so I was told.” He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t bring up that day. “The little girl…fuck, Chris, I can’t…hurts too much.”
“Is okay.” Kit relaxed against him, wrapping his long legs and arms around Micah and pulling him close. He shared the rest of the water while Micah blinked away the memory, and opened the second bottle, sharing that one too. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I shouldn’t have asked about your family earlier. I guess we’re even.” Micah took the bottle from him and lifted it up to Kit’s mouth so he had both hands free to talk.
“What were you going to ask before you decided you didn’t want me?”
“I do want you. That’s the problem. We’re not equals. I’m crossing lines and I don’t know what the rules are here, Kit. I’ve never been in the private sector before. I’ve never been a paid bodyguard. I don’t know how to separate my personal feelings for you from my professional duties.”
“You have feelings for me?” Kit lost the hard angry look and melted right before Micah’s eyes.
“Oh, Christopher Auberon, you’ve never been loved before have you?” Micah’s heart bled all over the floor, drowning him in this man.
“By a man?” Confusion entered his eyes.
“By anyone.”
Kit looked away and shook his head. “I’m…not lovable. I can’t…sex…I can’t feel anything. Who’d want to love me?”
Jesus, Micah died a little more. “You feel. So your dick doesn’t work. There’s more to sex than blood flow to certain parts. More to love too.”
“You’ve never been in love before, how would you know?”
“Who says I’ve never been in love before?” Who says I’m in love now? Jesus fucking Cricket.
“You’re not the type. You let your partner use you. That’s not love.”
“I should learn to keep my mouth shut when I’m horny.”
“Do I make you horny?” Kit’s hands were right in front of Micah’s face. His groin pressed to Micah’s groin.
“Can’t you read body language?” Micah took advantage of Kit’s busy hands and grabbed his ass and pulled him close enough to know there should be no question about that question. Kit’s big eyes went bigger and rounder, the blue went bluer. He breathed out a startled huff of air and grabbed onto Micah’s shoulders to steady himself. “I wasn’t going to ask you anything. I was wanting that to be a date with a man I find attractive. With a man who was flirting with me. I was wanting that to be real and I forgot to be professional. I forgot that you’re so damned innocent I should probably be arrested for even thinking the things I want to do to you. I want you so fucking much, Chris.”
“Because I’m the only gay man around? Or because I’m…”
Micah grabbed his hands and held them behind his back. “Stop talking. You’ll talk me out of this if you keep talking.” He threaded his fingers with Kit’s, and held him like that. Feeling him breathe. He could see his pulse flutter in his throat. “You smell so good. Sweaty, sweet smelling man. Love that scent.” He buried his nose in Kit’s neck and nuzzled him, sweat dripped from his hair and Micah licked it off his neck. “Wait. Did you say you were gay? I thought. I mean…you were so…asexual.”
Kit’s eyes grew anxious. He bit his bottom lip and looked away.
“You lied.” He let Kit’s hands go.
“No!” Kit signed and shook his head. “No lie. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t. I didn’t know if what I thought was real.”
“And that would be? What exactly?” Micah was confused.
Kit looked like a thunder cloud about to burst. He opened and closed his mouth. Swallowed hard a couple of times. As if he really was about to speak. To explain.
“Kady pointed out that when I sketch for pleasure—not for the games or commercial art—that I sketch men. Big men. Little men. Masculine. Feminine. But always a man. She says I just add boobs to the more feminine looking men for the—stop laughing at me.” He went pale and fluttered his hands.
Micah caught them again and linked their fingers again. “I’m not laughing at you. Five minutes ago you were wiping the floor with me. Now. I’m…amazed by you. You’re like light and dark all rolled into one incredibly hot package. I don’t know whether to baby you or—“
Micah didn’t get the rest out. Chris glued their lips together and that was where his brain ceased to work correctly. He moaned at the sweet hesitance and groaned when that hesitance turned to mouth searing kisses that had Micah so damned hard he’d come if Chris even thought about touching him. Anywhere.
Kit tore his mouth away and sat staring at him. Hard. As if he’d never seen Micah before. “I want to touch you. Is it okay if I touch you?” Kit didn’t wait for Micah to answer. He sucked and licked the inside of Micah’s mouth like a man starving. Long graceful fingers curled around Micah’s face, holding him gently while Kit plundered his mouth.
Micah took that as permission to explore as he pleased. Starting at Kit’s narrow shoulders he traced a path with trembling fingers over delicate skin. He felt a ridge of raised flesh here and there. Razor thin welts scattered along silk, placed indiscriminately and with malice. He found tender spots that made Kit hiss. And spots that made him suck in his breath.
Kit adjusted in his lap, and Micah found himself on his back with Kit hovering over him. “No tickling.” He signed before lowering himself onto his elbows to peer into Micah’s eyes. Nose to nose, he licked Micah’s lips. The smug look from a while ago back in his eyes.
“No tickling? You mean like this?” Micah found those same spots that had made Kit flinch and scraped his nails across the skin until Kit twisted and jerked and laughter filled his eyes. He grinned, his mouth screwed up as if he really did laugh. Maybe he did. “God, you’re gorgeous when you laugh.”
Micah didn’t wait for him to regain his senses. He flipped Kit onto his back and dragged his fingers along the man’s ribcage. No more tickling now. Time for serious touching. “Tell me to stop now. We’re past the point, Chris, if I have to stop I need to know now.”
Dishonor warred with need. And he needed to…he needed to be Kit’s first. He needed. Fuck he just needed.
“Don’t stop.” The soundless words on his lips. The plea for more in his eyes. Kit wanted him, Kit wanted…that was all he needed to know.
Micah groaned and lowered his mouth to Kit’s. “If I do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Chris, anything, you stop me. I promise not to hurt you.”
“What if I hurt you?” The words were on his lips, real fear in his eyes.
Micah sighed and whispered, “I won’t stop you.”
There were no more words, he lowered his body between Kit’s legs and touched their lips together. Kit closed his eyes and wrapped around him. Arms and legs and heat and want and need.
Micah kissed his jaw and down to his throat. He latched on to Kit’s soundless gasp and sucked up a mark while Kit’s fingers kneaded nail marks in his shoulders. He licked the slope of his neck to his chest. Kit tried to pull him back for another kiss but Micah made him forget when he licked Kit’s nipple. The little nub turned hard under his mouth and Kit dragged in deep ragged breaths, his fingers clasping the back of Micah’s head now.
“I love when a man holds my head. Something about it turns me on so fucking much,” he whispered in hot breaths over Kit’s puckered skin. “Hurt me, Chris.”
The whimper was real, full of sound and surrender, and Micah hadn’t made it. He sucked the hard pebble of flesh into his mouth tugging at it with his teeth. Chris whimpered again, his fingers going stiff in Micah’s hair, nails digging into his scalp as he tried to pull Micah closer.
Micah smiled, licking his way over to the twin while Chris’s gasps became breathy moans. “That’s my boy. Just like that. Show me how much you like what I’m doing to you.”
Kit arched into him as he bit the second nub hard. He held it captive between his teeth as he flicked the tip with his tongue. Chris’s hips left the floor, his legs squeezing Micah as he held on.
“More?” Micah whispered giving him a chance to catch his breath. The clench of fingers dragging his head back to the tortured nipple all the answer Micah was going to get. “More.”
He wrapped his lips around the nipple and sucked hard. Sliding his hands down Kit’s sides he found the drawstring to his pants and pulled. “Pants gotta go,” he managed to get the words out without losing his prize.
Kit lifted his hips again and helped Micah drag the loose pants off him. “I’m going to touch you now,” he warned Kit in case this was more than he’d bargained for. Kit’s answer was to thrust his groin into Micah’s hand.
Micah pleasured his nipples while skimming his fingers across the soft silky flesh that lay unresponsive between them. A dribble of fluid at the tip of his dick the only indication that he felt anything, but that was more than he’d responded the time before.
“I need to taste you, Chris. Can I?” He’d tasted him before, but this time seemed different. This time was for real. If he didn’t at least try to bring Chris pleasure this time…Kit nodded and pushed at his shoulders, shoving him lower over his body.
Micah didn’t want to be rushed, he grabbed Kit’s hands and held them as he kissed and licked his way down Kit’s delicate body. He gloried in each tremble and sigh as he hit a sensitive spot. And if truth be told, Chris’s impatience had him so fucking hard he’d sell his own mother for more.
The music blasting in the room didn’t help matters, his pulse raced with the hard driving metal, his body ached to take more than he should. Kit watched him as he kicked his pants off his foot, the trust in his eyes slowed Micah’s rush. Kit’s…Chris’s first time should be more than a five minute rush job. He’d hesitated too long, the trust turned to uncertainty, and Chris started to shy away.
“No.” Micah kissed his belly button. “I was trying to calm down. I needed to catch my breath and look at you. I’m ready to come just from what we’ve done. Oh hell, stop laughing at me. I’m trying to be serious here.”
The shy in Chris’s eyes turned sly. He eased up on his elbows and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to nibble. And Micah groaned and bit the hard jut of his hip bone. Because he was letting an innocent seduce him. “So not fair.”
The hip under his mouth nudged up as if to speak for its owner. More. And look at me. And Micah looked at him, all big blue, curiosity-heated eyes. Micah groaned long and hard as Chris pulled his legs back, one at a time, running his feet up Micah’s sides as he spread himself open. The smile that greeted Micah when he dared open his eyes wasn’t the slightest bit innocent. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me don’t you?”
His smile became a smirk as Chris nodded his head, he mouthed Micah’s name, and even though there was no sound, Micah felt the power of that stab him through his heart.
“Keep teasing me and I might not survive this.” Micah warned him. But warning Chris when he turned imp was like trying to leash the devil. And right now Micah wasn’t sure he could handle Kit unleashed. The tilt of hip brought Kit’s flaccid penis to Micah’s attention. Erect he’d be large and long. Soft he wasn’t small. Like the rest of him, Kit was beautifully proportioned. Or would be. A glimmer of moisture pooled on his groin indicating that something inside was waking up.
Micah licked that first. The bitter tang of pre-cum coated his tongue. He wanted to draw more from the well. Hands on Chris’s thighs, he stroked and rubbed and nuzzled his way down until his face rested in a nest of pale curls. Carefully, watching Chris’s face for any sign to stop he pressed a kiss to the tip of his dick and Kit’s head fell back as the tiniest twitch answered his effort.
A second kiss, followed by a lick, just lightly over the slit to taste the stingy drop of flavor before he sucked him into his mouth.
Chris drew his legs back and sat up at the same time, one hand holding him off the floor the other he twisted in Micah’s hair, as if he would drag him off…or hold him there for more. Micah gave him more.
Soft, he could take him into his mouth all the way to his groin. Nothing happened. He pulled off slowly letting his tongue glide over the sensitive head as it left his mouth. This time the moan he heard was not pleasure but misery.
“Not done. Long way from done.” Micah assured him as he licked down the outside of his shaft. He slowly dragged his fingers along Kit’s inner thighs, making him tremble and forget he wasn’t responding, because he was. “Do you trust me?” he asked, petting Chris where his thighs joined his crotch.
Chris dropped back on his elbows and spread his legs wider as if he understood what Micah had in mind when Micah didn’t really know. “Do you trust me to take care of you and not hurt you?” He needed to know before he went any further.
Kit looked up at him and with a nod he bit his lip and lay flat, legs back, ass open and on display for Micah to do anything he wanted. And right now he wanted to give Chris pleasure. He wanted to make him come long and loud and scream Micah’s name until the nearest neighbors called the cops. That’s what he wanted.
He swiped his tongue over the pink pucker of skin that Chris offered up for him, and hooked Chris’s thighs over his shoulders. “Don’t break my neck, okay?” He laughed when Kit went stiff. He relaxed as Micah blew a puff of air over the sensitive spot. Knees falling apart, heels on Micah’s shoulder blades, he lifted his ass for Micah and let him taste.
And fuck, he tasted wonderful. Like clean sweaty man. Micah rested his hands over Chris’s belly, holding him gently as he tasted his fill. Licking until Chris’s breathing turned shallow and his stomach contracted with the need to breathe and not breathe for fear of losing the touch.
He clawed at Micah’s hands but never pushed him away. He begged. Silently. Pushing his ass into Micah’s mouth as if trying to reach some point of no return. Micah could feel him open a little more with each swipe of his tongue. He could feel the pulse of want in that tiny opening that had Kit spreading his legs wider with each press of his tongue. Micah buried his nose in Kit’s taint, breathing in the scent of him, he wanted…fuck he wanted. He made a point with his tongue and on the next swipe he dipped inside.
Chris froze beneath him. He dragged in a started breath and held it. Micah knew he was at the fork in the road of fear and longing. Micah had come the first time he’d let a man rim him. God, he wanted that for Chris.
He let spit pool in his mouth and licked in deeper. Swirling his tongue around the pucker feeling the faint flutter as fear gave way to longing. No words needed, he stroked Chris’s thighs, pushing him wider with each thrust of his tongue. Chris reached between his legs to cradle Micah’s head in his hands and hold him there. He let Micah eat him. His body jerking and his gasps becoming ragged tortured sounds. He didn’t move away as Micah pushed spit into him, making him sloppy wet and wide open with every thrust of his tongue. Deeper. Until Chris trembled and shuddered. His toes curled as he tried not to squeeze Micah’s head off.
“I’m going to make you come now.” He hoped Chris understood. God he hoped he wouldn’t scare him to death when he inserted his finger inside him.
Slowly, he licked in one last time, letting spit slide inside. He slipped one finger inside as he pulled his tongue out. And waited. The pucker of skin throbbed around his digit seeking to suck it inside but Micah waited, holding in the entrance, no farther than his tongue could go. He stroked Chris, circling his rim, in much the same way he’d done with his tongue until the shock of entry left Chris’s eyes. “I won’t hurt you. Pull away any time you feel uncomfortable.” He raised up on his elbow to lean over Chris.
Chris nodded and fell onto his back, his legs dropped to the mat but stayed spread. “I want to fuck you so badly, Chris. I want to. I ache with wanting to be inside you.” With each word he slicked his finger in a little deeper. Micah placed little kisses along Chris’s thighs as he made his way back up Chris’s body. Finger going deeper with each kiss. He rested his chin on Chris’s belly and stroked him deeply looking for that spot that would send Chris jolting off the mat, one way or another.
Chris slapped the mat with one hand and reached for him with the other. Micah wasn’t sure if he meant to push him away or hold him tight. Chris wrapped his fingers behind Micah’s neck and held on.
More, he mouthed the word. His eyes rolling into the back of his head when Micah found the tiny spongy spot hiding just out of his reach. Of course, Chris would have a shy prostate.
“Two fingers.” He warned and Chris arched back, shoulders flat to the floor, his hips rising up to the challenge. He’d lost his grip on Micah’s neck as he plunged down on Micah’s fingers. Ramming himself on the second digit before Micah could ease it into him. His body clenched and spasmed. His thighs shook. He slapped both hands on the mat, fingers spread wide as he bucked onto Micah. His body soaked with sweat as he shook apart.
Micah pressed against the spot in him, sliding his fingers in harder and harder, fucking him in time with Chris’s bucks. Letting him fuck himself until he broke. His ass muscles sucked hard at Micah’s fingers, but Micah wouldn’t stop. Not until Chris went over. He couldn’t stop.
Feet flat on the floor now, Chris reached for Micah, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to pull him down as he tried to lift himself off the mat. His cry was hoarse and painful. His body shook hard. Micah cried out as Chris clawed holes in his back.
“That’s good. That’s it. Let go, baby. Let go. Come for me.” Micah shouted over the music and his own heartbeat. He licked the trickle of pre-come that spurted from Chris’s still limp dick and drew the head into his mouth. He sucked him while keeping pressure on that spot until Chris went stiff beneath him, his cries silent as his whole body clenched tight. A spurt of thick fluid filled Micah’s mouth. Not cum exactly but enough to know his boy wasn’t broken.
He slipped his fingers from Chris as he went limp. And waited. As long as Kit didn’t run from him this time. He’d wait forever if he had to.