“I have a better idea,” I managed after we stumbled upon two young girls passionately kissing in the shadow of a large tree.
There was nothing but trust in Oleander’s eyes as he allowed me to lead him out of Lover’s Lane and across the Glaesflod Bridge on the other side. “I’ve heard there are vendors here as well,” he commented as we crossed. “Though I’ve heard that some of them sell things that would not be accepted at Everend.”
“It’s true,” I confirmed for him. “There are also vendors who could not get into the market. I began there.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” I paused. “Would you like me to show you where they set up?”
I hoped he’d say no, and I was pleased when he did. If there was time later, I would take him and show him everything. I believed a few vendors I’d known in the midsummers I’d spent over the bridge were still setting up there. If there was time, I’d introduce them, but I was in no rush.
I led him away from the path after we crossed the bridge. These woods were more private than the small grove of trees in the market. Rumor said that assassins and bandits roamed the woods. Rumors also said that there were derelict cabins deeper within. There was no need to determine the truth of either of those rumors. I had nothing that a bandit would want, and an inventor and merchant from Gearwick was unlikely to be atop any assassin’s list. If I wanted to find a cabin, I had a perfectly good one in the village to the north.
Besides, that would waste precious time, and we only had until midday before Acantha expected us back at my stall.
I led him only far enough into the woods that we were out of sight from the pathway, until we could not hear or see anything other than bugs and birdsong.
Once I knew our privacy was guaranteed, I pushed him back against a thick tree and kissed him hard on the mouth. His lips opened to me immediately, his tongue slipping into my mouth. It was nothing like the quiet kiss we’d shared the night before. Even the electricity from the kiss on Lover’s Lane had changed.
If that kiss crackled, this kiss scorched. It reminded me of standing too close to the forge, except I had no fear of being burned by the flames between us. I wanted to stoke the flames, see how brightly this fire could burn.
My hands moved from their rest on his hips around to the swell of his buttocks. The buttery soft leather of his trousers felt good under the palm of my hands. I wondered if his skin would feel just as soft. I dragged him closer to me. He was already hard from simply kissing.
The flames had been stoked.
When my lips tingled from how long we kissed, I pulled away. He chased after me, his lips finding the tip of my ear, trailing down the shell of it to my neck. My pulse quickened, and I angled my head to give him better access. His talented tongue traced patterns on my skin, patterns I wished to commit to my notebook and to my memory. Except my eyes drifted shut, and all I could focus on was him.
He overloaded all my senses, emptying my mind and replacing it with sensation. His smell, musk and oils and herbs I couldn’t name. His touch, fingers tracing down my torso and slipping under my tunic. The press of his cock against my hip and the way he rolled his hips as if he were seeking something only I could give him. His leg pushing between mine, separating them, and putting pressure where I needed it most.
My body reacted on instinct, and I ground against his leg, mirroring his hips. The sensation was nearly overwhelming, and a moan fell from my lips. I only hoped we were far enough into the woods that no one heard it, but even that trepidation didn’t stop me from losing myself in him.
My hands began to explore beyond his round ass. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel the warmth of his skin, so I let a hand move up his tunic. I wanted to hear his noises, so my other hand moved to the front of his trousers. I covered his bulge with my hand. His member was long and slender, and I could easily imagine the way it would feel without the leather.
I needed the answer.
My fingers moved to the laces of his trousers, and I slipped them free from their stays. “Is this—” I breathed.
“Please.”
My hand slipped beneath his trousers and wrapped around his hot length. He let out a sound that traveled straight to my balls. I could not get good movement beneath his tight pants, but he did not seem to mind. As I moved my hand to the tip of his cock, I felt the sticky bead of liquid at the tip. His body shuddered against mine as my thumb brushed over it. “Do you like that?” I asked softly.
He nodded. “More.”
More?
I pulled my hands away from him and shoved down his trousers. He took advantage of the pause in our action to free me as well. His eyes traveled down to my dick, and he licked those delectable lips of his. “Beautiful,” he muttered before he wrapped his slender fingers around my girth.
We worked each other over with our hands as our lips met again, first kissing and then dissolving into panted breaths. My strokes felt clumsy, but his—oh, his hands were that of a magician. He knew how to stroke me, when to add twists, andwhen to squeeze me right at the base to keep me from tumbling over the cliffside into orgasmic bliss. His face glistened with sweat, and I tasted the salt of it on his top lip.
The sounds of his pleasure heightened mine. It was invigorating, knowing that I was the cause of each of those sounds.
Our hips moved together, and I felt the head of his cock brush against mine. Jolts of pleasure raced down my spine. If I was making him feel half of what he was making me feel, then it was a job well done.
I wondered if maybe I wasn’t when he batted my hand away from him. His hand fell away from me long enough for him to spit in the palm of his hand. I watched, mesmerized, and then—pleasure.
His wet hand wrapped around us both as he took control of our pleasure. The slide of his cock, lubricated with spit and precum, was like little I’d felt before. My hips moved, fucking into his hand. I stopped thinking. My hands moved of their own accord. One wrapped around the hand he had wrapped around us, doing nothing more than applying pressure. I was desperate to be touching him, desperate to finally crest the mountain he kept bringing me close to the peak of, desperate foranything.
My other hand wrapped around him, feeling the warm skin of his ass. I felt the way his hips moved like my own.
