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As we drove off to his place, I committed every detail to memory, for I had a feeling that after tonight, a memory would be all I had.
Chapter Eighteen
Porter
His place, my place, it didn’t matter, but so far this evening was following my plan. Before I could make the suggestion that we continue the night somewhere private, he had beat me to it. I should have expected that. Maybe someday Michael would stop surprising me, but I hoped not.
That image I’d had of him that first day I realized he was working for me, the one where I messed up. His put-together look with swollen lips and rough sex hair, that image plagued me on the drive home. And it didn’t help that his hand pressed lightly against my thigh. It felt like my cock was a heat-seeking missile, and Michael was its target, just waiting to be fired. But I kept my cool long enough to get behind my sturdy front door. The moment I dropped my keys on the entryway table, though, it was on.
I backed him up against the wall, shoving a knee between his legs as I braced myself on either side of his body. Immediately, his hips rolled, and I could feel the heat of his cock rubbing along my leg. I pressed my body against his, the hard planes of his body a little less firm, claiming and exploring his mouth. We were both panting and his hands knew what they wanted, slipping underneath my coat to pull me close to him and then sliding down to grab my ass. I grunted, the motion sending electric shocks straight to my balls, and I took a half step back. I needed to slow things down a bit. I had plans to make sure he never wanted to leave again.
But Michael apparently had plans, too, and he quickly dropped out of the circle of my arms and fell to his knees in front of me. Fuuuck. “Keep your hands on the wall,” he commanded. “You are bound by my will.” The words were an echo of what I had told him that night in the hotel room. I had never been one to be controlled, let alone enjoy it, but I knew in that moment that no matter what Michael asked of me, it was his.
He caressed my erection through my pants, and my hips involuntarily jerked forward. With focused intensity, he undid my belt and unzipped my pants, pushing them and my boxers to the floor with no preamble, and then his hands were on the front of my thighs, moving up over my hip bones, tracing the V of my groin. He took me, swallowing me whole. His mouth was a wet, tight wonderland. And then he started sucking. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of his hollowing cheeks, of my cock sliding in and out of those perfect lips. It was everything I’d thought it would be and more. His tongue pressed hard against the underside of my cock and then twirled around the head as he rose to it, his hand following, twisting as he bobbed up and down. This hadn’t been in my plan, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to say no to it. Besides, I figured it fell under the general directive of giving Michael what he needed. And I could tell by the way he sucked me down and his eyes fell in satisfaction that this was something he needed.
That thought was what tipped me over the edge. I didn’t have any time to warn Michael because suddenly I was coming down his throat as I realized how much pleasure this was giving him, let alone me. Michael sucked my cum down greedily, though, and popped off with a satisfied smack when my cock finally stopped pulsing.
I fell to my knees beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Omega mine. You’re going to be the death of me.”
I could feel his smile as his chin tilted downward, his head pressing against mine. “I hope not. I’d like to keep you around for a while.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant for just tonight or longer, but those words fed the craving I had for him. I stood, pulling him up with me. Instead of tucking myself into my pants, I simply removed them, the jacket and shirt quickly following. Then I scooped Michael up, making promises I intended to collect.
I brought him to my room, to my bed, and set him down gently. I didn’t need to say anything; he was stripping the moment his feet hit the floor, naked before I had the chance to ask him to slow down. “I know you won’t be ready to go for a while yet,” he said, “but I’d love to lie with you.”
As tempting as it was to indulge in one of my less carnal, more domestic fantasies of cuddling with Michael, there was something I had been waiting for months to do.
“I think I can do better than that,” I growled and was satisfied to see the smoldering fire catch and bloom in his eyes. “Lie down in the middle of the bed.”
I crawled between his legs and marveled. The last time we had done this, it had been a storm, a frantic need. I’d had two months to think of all the things I hadn’t had the chance to learn about Michael, two months to imagine how I would rectify that, and so I took my time, running my hands down his naked body, exploring his every plane, paying special attention to his responsive nipples. He’d filled out a little bit, and it looked so good on him. And when he was finally limp beneath me, his entire body relaxed with the exception of his perky nipples, I lowered myself to his cock and began enacting the fantasy I had dwelt on every night. He was absolutely slick, and I let my tongue dance from side to side, teasing his tip, swiping up to capture his pre-cum. I waited until he was a shaking, begging mess before I added a finger, entering him slowly and curving around to find his prostate. I had let myself think before, that there would be another chance to taste his release in my mouth, and I had been wrong. I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.
And when he came, it satisfied me the way it had before, his cum shooting down my throat as his body quaked beneath me. His muscles clenched around my finger like a vise, and I remembered what it was like to be buried in him, feeling that same pressure milking me to completion. He screamed my name, he begged it, his entire vocabulary reduced to me. I licked and cleaned his cock with my tongue after the first wave subsided.
Only then did I finally ease away from him and climb up the bed to wrap my body around his.
I had thought that maybe one more night with Michael would settle me, that it would ease this aching longing I had been carrying since I saw him sitting alone in that bar in the town I had left behind so long ago. But it hadn’t. If anything, the feeling had intensified, and it scared me.
The only person I’d ever given a damn about in this life was Miss Betsy, and she was gone now. Until Michael. And Michael had already left me once before. My arms tightened around him, locking him into place, and he hummed in pleasure, pushing that amazing ass back against my cock. It stirred in interest.
“So, we’re going for round two this time?” I had to concentrate to keep my tone light and even. I felt like I was cracking at the seams, and every molecule of my being was asking one question: would he be here in the morning or not?
“I figured we were playing tournament style,” Michael responded.
“What sport, though? Tennis? Roller Derby? Ping-Pong?”
Michael laughed, and the sound wrapped around my tattered heart, smoothing all its jagged edges and sneaking into every crack. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure out the rules as we go along.”
I needed this man with an intensity that terrified me. He was everything bright and good in this world. I was only pure determination, but he made me want to be more.
“What’s the first rule?”
Michael pretended to think. “Well, each match must start naked.”
“Every match? That seems to be leaving out some very crucial undressing moves.”
“I wasn’t thinking. You’re right.” His hand trailed across my arm, sparks following every touch. “And we can’t say every match you have to start with clothes on because that would be a lot of unnecessary putting on of clothes.”
“Very true,” I murmured in his ear, nibbling on the soft patch of skin just below it.
