Page 35 of Toren

Andrew moved Toren’s feet off his lap, went to his knees, and dragged his cheek between Toren’s legs, over his thighs and his cock, his stomach, back down again to his balls. Andrew rubbed all over him like a cat after a scent, and Toren let his head drop back with a groan to enjoy it.

“I would fucking worship you,” Andrew whispered. “I think I…I don’t think there’s a single thing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I remember you said…with the begging.”

Andrew kissed Toren’s knee. “Put me out of my misery.”

He answered with an exhale of smoke and a kiss against the top of Andrew’s head.

Power exchange was never something Toren had much interest in, but his understanding had been rudimentary at best. He’d always imagined a submissive partner as being weak and tossed around, but he had no illusions about who assumed what role between him and Andrew. And it was Andrew, the dominant one, on his knees with his imploring eyes and patient hands, and it was Andrew with a mouthful of cock most days, and it was Andrew positioning him like a king on a throne.

“How about you lead and I follow?” he proposed, stroking his fingers through Andrew’s hair when he looked up with wide and curious eyes.

“What now?”

“Start small and we can go from there.”

“God.” Andrew cursed under his breath and tugged the waistband of Toren’s underwear down, pressing a sloppy kiss against the root of his dick. “I think I could fall in love with you.”

Toren’s heart leapt into his throat, voice cracking when he asked, “Could?”

Andrew’s chest heaved with every breath, realization painted across his face.

“Could you?” Andrew asked him back.

Toren could.

Toren did.

“I could,” he answered.

“Have you?”

“I think so.” He put out his cigarette and took Andrew’s face into his hands, bending himself in half and pressing their noses together. “Have you?”

“What if I wanted to tell you later? What if I wanted to wait until I was bare inside you, pumping your hole full of my cum for the first time?”

Toren shivered, his eyes rolling back in an embarrassing flutter.

“Edging it is, then,” he murmured.

CHAPTER 12

Andrew

By the time Andrew and Toren made it to Rapture, both of them were ready to crawl out of their skin, Andrew especially. Toren had spent most of the day lounging around the hotel room half-naked, a cigarette perched on his lower lip like a bird on a telephone wire. Andrew had been a man possessed, barely holding himself together for how badly he wanted to rut into Toren until both of them forgot their names.

In as many words, it had been a truly perfect day. There were no obligations, no outside pressures, no meetings. There weren’t even dishes to do or sheets to change. The housekeepers would take care of the mess they’d made, and Andrew would be sure to tip them well for the trouble.

There was something intoxicating about stepping over the threshold and into Rapture. For Andrew, he never tired of it. The smell of the place, a church for so many years the rafters would never not smell like incense, paired now with sweat and leather and liquor. There was something primal about the way the club overtook him, and with Toren beside him, Andrew had to fight to hold on to restraint. Toren already brought out the dirtiest parts of him and Rapture would only amplify those urges.

“I’m always amazed when I come here,” Toren spoke directly into his ear. “I can’t believe this place is real sometimes.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

“No,” Toren answered simply. “Not a lot. My best friend has started coming more, but I don’t always like to make the drive.”

“There is something to be said about staying home on a weekend,” Andrew agreed, pulling Toren toward the bar that stretched the length of the back wall.