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“Sorry,” Ian said, even though he wasn’t. What was the harm in leading him by the dick? It’s what Alek would have done.
“I’ll only fuck you if you fuck yourself on my cock. You on top. You have to stop if your feelings change. You have to be honest.”
“I promise.”
Alek patted Ian’s cheek lightly. “Are you sure? You know I don’t forgive the way you do. If you thought a week without my touch was bad, you won’t like what will happen if you lie to me again. Do you understand?”
“I need this, Alek. Please.”
And he really did. Alek probably felt like he’d lost all control, that he no longer deserved to take Ian in hand, that Ian wouldn’t trust him to, but Ian wanted to show Alek that the phantom specter of his dominancecouldbecome corporeal again, that Ian needed to see it as much as Alek did.
Alek lifted his chin with leonine grace. “Undress me.”
Ian pulled off Alek’s shirt and greedily mapped every inch of his olive skin. Obsidian hair traced a fairy ring around Alek’s belly button before disappearing inside his pants. He was too thin, his ribs poking ridges beneath his skin. Ian would fix that. He would feed him. He would make him well. He would love Alek enough for the both of them until Alek learned to love himself.
Ian swallowed thickly, then said, “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”
Alek only pressed his lips together, one corner lifting up slightly to betray the pleasure Ian’s compliment had given him.
Ian kneeled on the floor and removed Alek’s pants. Stark naked and completely shameless, Alek reclined back on the couch and spread his legs wide, palming the cock Ian knew so well he could already sense the ghost of how it would feel inside.
“Go get lube,” Alek said.
Ian didn’t trust his voice to work so he nodded instead. Where had he last seen the lube? Alek stashed bottles around the house like Easter eggs. Ian dropped to the floor and looked under the armchair.
“Cold,” Alek said.
“Huh?” Ian paused on his hands and knees.
“I thought it was obvious. I’m doing that thing Americans do on TV. Cold means you’re far away. Warmer means you’re closer. Is that not a thing?”
Ian bit back a grin. “No, you’ve got it right.” He crossed to the built-in bookshelf. “How about now?”
“Warmer.”
Ian headed for the cabinet.
“Colder!” Alek smiled unguardedly and it was as rare as it was adorable.
Ian tried the fireplace next.
“You’re getting warmer,” Alek coached.
Hanging over the mantle was an antique giltwood mirror featuring a formidable lion with a mane of scales. When they first moved in, Ian had complained that the parlor was too dark. Alek countered that he preferred it that way, the more clouds of tobacco smoke the better, just as the Victorians had intended. That was another thing. “No smoking in the Victorian,” Ian haddeclared. “I won’t be stifled,” Alek retorted, going on to smoke enough cigarettes in the following twenty-four hours to give himself a ten-year head start on emphysema. The mirror was his apology. “The lion reminds me of you and mirrors reflect light,” Alek had said with a shrug. He’d only smoked outside from then on.
Ian tilted the bottom of the mirror up from the wall and a travel-size bottle of lube fell out.
“Hot.” Alek smirked, then patted his lap. “Come here.”
Ian rushed to comply, moving to the space between Alek’s thighs.
Alek tucked his fingers inside the top edge of Ian’s pants. “Get yourself out of these clothes,” he said in a low, velvet purr. “Leave the boxers on.”
In his haste, Ian pulled his shirt off with a rip of a stitch and nearly fell over when he shimmied out of his pants.
Alek looked up at him with wide, dick-sucking eyes. “Are you sure you want me to write over everything I made wrong?” Alek leaned towards Ian’s boxers until his mouth hovered a whisper away from the head of Ian’s cock. “Even this?”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
