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“Do you trust me?”
Isn’t that a complicated question? I asked myself, but I pushed those thoughts away before they could spiral into self-doubt. I wanted Simon. I wanted this night together, and, dear God, I wanted to feel his hands on me, to know what he tasted like on every inch of his body, what he sounded like when he came. I’d never felt such an intense physical connection to someone, such overwhelming desire. It was almost painful to hold myself back from him.
So, I did the only thing I could think to do and prayed I wouldn’t land on my ass. I stood up, grasping hold of Simon’s thighs to hold him against me. I was rewarded by his gasp of surprise and his arms wrapping around my neck, his legs encircling my waist. Even though he was nearly as tall as me, I carried him easily. He laughed as I carried him away from the table and through the doorway into the bedroom, peppering my neck with kisses, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin between my throat and collar bone. His short nails raked against whatever exposed skin they could find, and I shivered at the sensation.
Floor to ceiling windows lined one side of the room. In the day, they gave a splendid view of the backyard and the river beyond as well as the redwood and aspen covered hillside on the opposite bank. It was too dark to admire the earthly view, but the heavens revealed itself in all its glory. With the house lights off or dimmed, the sky was full of stars, even the telltale dusting of the Milky Way arcing over our heads was visible.
I paused, just beyond the door, and stepped to the side so I could push Simon against the wall. My mouth was on his once more before he could take a breath, and he moaned against me, his hips thrusting against my chest. He was as hard as I was, and it ramped up my arousal.
The want, the need for him was like a living creature inside me, and it was hungry for more of him. Ravenous even. I growled and bent my head and feasted on his neck. With Simon’s back against the wall, his legs tight around my waist, my hands were free to explore, and I took full advantage.
Comparisons were inevitable, but they all worked in Simon’s favor. His skin was flawless, nearly silky in its smoothness. It was cool to the touch but pebbled against the onslaught of my mouth against his throat. The contrast, the texture, as I felt his skin change against my tongue, excited me, and his whimpers as I took small bits between my teeth and teased at them, thrilling as the blood rushed to the surface and heated in my mouth, drove me to find other places from which my touch might draw out those furtive sounds.
At first, Simon tried to continue undressing me, but my hands and mouth were relentless in their quest to find his most sensitive spots, and he eventually threw his head back, exposing his throat to me in surrender. I didn’t waste any time taking advantage as I kissed and nipped and caressed my way from his collarbones to the base of his throat. I might have been a little obsessed with the feel of the hard bone under my tongue, the ridge of it and the sharp points where the two sides fell away at the top of his sternum. And the dip of smooth, silky skin as I teased my tongue along the inside line and began tracing the lines of tendons that led to his Adam’s apple.
I rubbed my lips back and forth at the transition point where his beard started, the stubbled hair leaving my lips tingling and slightly raw, then worked my way to the underside of his jaw where another ridgeline of bone caught my attention.
“Becks,” Simon’s voice was a whisper, tight with need and desire.
“Yes,” I answered back, but I was captivated by the trace of scent that remained on his skin at the junction of his jaw and the underside of his ear. I licked and sucked on the flesh there, pulled the tender lobe into my mouth and bit down lightly, just enough to tug on it.
Simon cried out, a sound that went straight to my cock and balls, and my hips thrust forward, pressing him harder against the wall. Nearly my full weight pressed against him now, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes keeping our bodies from knowing each other, and my cock throbbed with the lack of contact, of friction, of anything but the confines of my trousers and briefs to rub against.
I worked my way across the underside of his jaw to the other side, not wanting to leave a spot of skin untouched even though every molecule of my being called out for me to carry Simon to the bed. The drive to map his entire body, to lay claim to each inch of skin and strand of hair, to make love to the entirety of his being drove me onward, and I continued to hold him against the wall until he was writhing against me. We were both hard and leaking, a wet spot on Simon’s pants shocking as it soaked through my shirt and the chill of it touched my skin. The sudden thrust of my hips in response brought my own cock into contact with my similarly damp briefs.
“Becks!” Simon called out and clamped his thighs around my hips. His head rolled against the wall, and his hips undulated against me, rubbing his erection against my abs. “S…s..stop,” he breathed out, and grabbed hold of my hair to pull my mouth from his neck.
We stared into each other’s eyes, the wild lust I saw in his surely a mirror to what he saw in mine. The air around us stilled. And we remained motionless, both of us panting. Simon’s lower lip was plump and glistening with spit. I imagined he’d been biting on it to keep himself under control, and I groaned. His lips parted, and his chest heaved with a deeply drawn breath.
I don’t know who moved first, but the moment burst to flames as we closed the distance between each other once more. Our lips met with a clash of tongue and teeth, battling for dominance as we thrust into each other’s mouths with a fury that would have taken my breath away if I had been breathing. I had no idea if I was, just as I had no idea how long we spent with our bodies pressed against each other, our mouths fused.
At some point, I lost the taste of Simon’s mouth and realized it had become our taste in my mouth — his and mine — a heady mixture of what we had both consumed this evening, the most intoxicating elixir I had ever had on my tongue.
Simon broke away first. “Bed, Becks,” he panted. “Please.”
I heard the desperation in his voice. It matched the well of desire in my own body. I bent my head to kiss him, then lowered my arms so my hands cupped his ass. As I carried him, I could feel the weight and heat of his balls and couldn’t resist letting my fingers tease at them. Simon arched his back and groaned.
“You’re going to make me come,” he said.
“Isn’t that the idea,” I quipped, but I stopped because I wanted Simon naked when he came. I wanted to see all of him.
We made it to the bed without further incident, and I lowered him to the mattress, but as I made to join him, Simon climbed to his knees and put a hand on my chest.
“My turn,” he said and began unbuttoning my shirt.
He hummed as more of my chest came into view, working his way slowly toward my belt, pulling the shirt from my waistband as he got lower. Once he’d unfastened every button, he paused and buried his face in my chest, nuzzling into the abundance of hair.
“I would never have guessed,” he murmured as his hands traced a path from my belly to my shoulders. “So sexy.”
Simon continued to stroke me, almost petting me while he uttered words of praise and nuzzled against my chest. I wasn’t a bear by any means, but the growth wasn’t confined to the center of my chest — it patterned my belly and pecs and dusted across the tops of my shoulders and my upper arms. I didn’t manscape — I thought it was a stupid trend that had left me feeling ridiculous and prickly the one time I’d tried it — but was also aware that some men thought I looked ungroomed. Simon, fortunately, didn’t seem to share that opinion if the sounds he made were any indication.
His hands snaked under the back of my shirt which now hung loose and open from my shoulders, and his fingers traced designs on my back as they crept upwards. My cock throbbed, still trapped by my pants and briefs, but I didn’t care, enchanted by the feel of Simon’s hands on my skin. His fingers teased and caressed, bringing my nerve endings to life and making me shiver with delight and anticipation. If his hands felt this good on my back, how would they feel when he finally touched my cock? The thought made me groan, and my hips jerked forward.
Simon chuckled. “Uh. You tortured me, now I get to return the favor.”
“Do your worst,” I said, knowing by the way he grinned up at me that I might live to regret those words. Especially since he’d been teasing me all evening, seducing me with his words and his food.
Sliding his hands over my shoulders, Simon relieved me of my shirt. It floated to the ground and lay at my feet. Ordinarily, I’d be distracted by the need to pick it up and toss it in the hamper, but Simon’s caresses kept my focus on him. Now bared to the waist, his hands were free to roam my upper body, to search out my sensitive spots and ramp up my arousal with his touch.
