Mother nodded.
Sighing, Vasily said, “Then I’ll see you for breakfast.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Mother’s cheek before flashing him a bright smile, then turning and half stumbling down the path slightly hunched over.
Mother watched him for a second before yanking the door of the cottage open and stepping inside. He groaned and threw himself into the chair by the fire, his cock a hard, persistent ache that demanded to be dealt with.
Gods, how was he expected to think when he was consumed with want like this?
He squirmed uncomfortably, and his hand crept to the lacings of his trousers. Almost without thinking, he found himself loosening the fastenings and shoving his hand inside, taking himself in hand and sighing with relief as he stroked his cock.
Mother closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, chasing the traces of Vasily’s kisses, and imagined it was Vasily touching him. He groaned as another bolt of unaccustomed lust shot through him, his cock leaking.
He bit his lip, tensing, and rubbed a thumb over his cockhead, spreading the slick there. His heart thundered in his chest and his balls drew up tight. He was so close, just a tug was all he—
There was a knock at the door, and he yanked his hand away and sat upright, breathing fast.
“Mother?”
Vasily.
Mother stood and tried to stuff himself back into his trousers, and when that didn’t quite work, he left his shirt untucked, hoping it would cover the evidence of his arousal. He yanked the door open to find Vasily standing there, eyes bright. His hair had come free from its usual leather tie and was falling around his face in loose waves, his cheeks were flushed, and his chest was heaving like he’d run to get there. He didn’t wait for an invitation but stepped inside and cupped Mother’s face in one hand. “I know we said we’d go slow, but I don’t want slow. I wantyou.”
And what was Mother supposed to say to that, when his own need was just as great? Still, he forced himself to ask. “Are you sure? It’s fine if you want to wait.”
Vasily tilted his head and then, with a gleam in his eye, draped his arms over Mother’s shoulders and said, “I’ve waited to be with an attractive man my entire life. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Then Vasily kissed him, hot and hungry, and all thoughts of taking their time vanished. Vasily moaned and Mother’s arousal bloomed fresh, although it was tinged with nerves. What, exactly, did Vasily want from him? And what if he expected Mother to have experience at this kind of thing?
But his nervousness didn’t have a chance to take hold before Vasily was kissing him again, more gently this time. Mother lost himself in the softness of his lips, the silkiness of his hair, the heat of another man’s body against his own. His blood raced hot through his veins. Vasily reached down and tugged at the lacings on Mother’s shirt, and he made an appreciative sound as his fingers traced over Mother’s exposed collarbones.
“Mother—” He bit his lip.
“Hmmm?”
“It’s—don’t laugh, and please, for the love of the gods, don’t be offended, but does anyone ever call you anything else? Because I don’t think I can call you Mother when I’m asking for your cock in my mouth.”
Mother drew in a sharp breath, not at the comment about his name—he was used to those—but at the image of Vasily on his knees, his full mouth wrapped around Mother’s length. All the blood in his body rushed south, his cock filling until he was so hard itached.
“Bryn,” he managed to get out. “Call me Bryn.” It was the name he was meant to have had, the one he didn’t share, but it seemed right to share it with Vasily.
“Bryn,” Vasily said slowly, tasting the name, and then his smile was back, and he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Mother’s cheek. “My Bryn.”
It shouldn’t have been arousing, but something about hearing his secret name in Vasily’s lilting accent sent a shiver of want racing through his veins.
Or perhaps it wasn’t the name. Perhaps it was themy.
Whichever it was, Mother liked it. He tipped his head and caught Vasily’s mouth with his and they shared another long, lingering kiss. When Vasily slid both hands down Mother’s back and cupped his arse, pulling their bodies tight, the closeness and the press of warm muscle against him had the heat in his belly flaring and becoming more urgent. He surged forward and backed Vasily against the closed door, rocking his hips forward and chasing more contact until Vasily let out a broken whimper.
Mother tensed and stilled. Had he been too forward? Was it too much? Vasily hadsaid—
“Do that again, Bryn,” Vasily gasped, tilting his head back and grasping Mother’s arse tighter.
Well, that answered that question.
Vasily was beautiful like this, with his head back and his lips parted, and Mother gave in to the temptation to lean in and place a line of kisses down Vasily’s throat, the skin soft under his lips. Vasily shuddered under the touch, letting out a broken moan, and the sound was so desperate, so wanton, that it almost had Mother spilling in his trousers right there.
He buried his face in the curve of Vasily’s throat, taking slow, deep breaths. Vasily slid one hand up the back of Mother’s shirt, his fingertips leaving warm trails where they traced over his skin, the other hand stilling when it found the opened lacing of Mother’s trousers and his obvious erection. “Bryn, can I?"
Mother wasn’t sure what he was asking exactly, but it didn’t matter. He wanted anything and everything Vasily would give him. He reached down and pulled the front of his trousers open farther in a wordless response.
