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“Oh, but you promised me you could go again. I want to feel you come. Come for me, Del.” Spencer resumed his onslaught before Del could protest further. Using his hands to hold him open, he worked his tongue over all the spots he’d already learned made Del gasp and moan and stroke himself faster until he came all over the shower wall with a shout of Spencer’s name.
Stifling a curse at the number the unforgiving tile floor had done on his knees, Spencer stood so he could embrace Del, hold him while he shuddered.
“Fuck. I love your water heater. And that...wow. Tell me you’re going to fuck me now. Please?”
“Oh, you are so getting fucked.” Spencer bit at the Gothic-looking tattoo on Del’s shoulder. “But we can stay in here as long as you need.”
“Mmm.” Del spun, capturing Spencer’s mouth in an eager kiss. “Much as I’m willing to sign a prenup and pick out china with this shower, I want you more. Take me to your bed, Spencer.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bacon liked Spencer’s bathroom enough that he was almost reluctant to leave its warm confines to go find Spencer’s bed. Almost. He did want to fuck, and while the bathroom—hell the fluffy bathmat even—held certain appeal, so did a bed he could collapse in afterward.
“Coming, Del?” Spencer held the door open for him. He’d retrieved condoms and lube from a drawer in the bathroom vanity after toweling off.
“Yeah.” He liked when Spencer called him Del in that cultured voice of his, deep and soothing. He couldn’t quite think of himself that way yet, but he liked the nickname, liked being that guy for Spencer.
Spencer’s bedroom was large and airy like the rest of the loft, the high ceilings and natural light through a bank of windows contrasting with the dark gray bedding and black-and-white prints on the wall. Most of the photos were male dancers in various states of nakedness. Hot yet classy, much like Spencer himself.
“Any of these of you?”
“No.” Spencer laughed. “I’m hardly that photogenic. Or that much of an egoist to put myself on the wall. They’re all done by a photographer friend—the party I mentioned in the email is for him.”
“He does good work.” Bacon wasn’t sure how to angle for going to the party with Spencer, or if he even wanted that, so instead he leered. “You should pose for him. I wanna see you in tights. Or workout shorts. Whatever you wear to dance class.”
“Barre class is hardly about sultry clothes.” Spencer laughed and gently pushed Bacon in the direction of the bed. “But I bet I can find tights you’d like. Later.”
His intent stare made Bacon squirm in the best way possible and reminded him that while he’d had a bone-melting orgasm, Spencer had not.
“How do you want me?” he asked as Spencer pulled back the covers and tossed the supplies on the bed.
“Exactly how you were in the shower. All blissed out and begging for my cock.”
“That can be arranged. You gonna give me your mouth again?” Letting his towel flutter to the floor, he stretched out on the large bed—had to be a king, which felt like such a luxury after years of singles.
Discarding his own towel, Spencer lay down next to him, pulling him in for a kiss that was full of filthy promises. “You liked being rimmed, huh?”
“Loved it.” Bacon wasn’t above being shameless.
“How do you feel about fingers?” Spencer reached for the lube.
“I’m in favor of them. Feel free to go right to your dick, though. I like a good stretch.”
“Guess that answers my question of whether you’ve done this before.” Spencer laughed and gave him another kiss. Damn, but the man could kiss—all barely contained heat contrasted with practiced finesse.
“Yeah. Dicks. Fingers. Tongues. Dildos. My ass is kind of an undiscriminating attention whore. You’re not gonna hurt me if you fuck hard.” He winked at Spencer. “But feel free to try. Go hard, but now please.”
“You are so delightfully not at all what I expected.” Spencer pulled him close, tongue tracing his lips before licking its way into Bacon’s mouth. While they kissed, Spencer fiddled with the lube and then his slick fingers started tormenting Bacon.
“What part of now didn’t you understand?” he growled as Spencer masterfully played his nerve endings, circling and teasing, pressing in but then retreating.
“The part where I’m in charge.” Spencer punctuated his words by finally going deep enough to graze his gland, working that spot till Bacon was writhing on the sheets. His cock had never completely gone down from earlier and was back at full, insistent mast. Spencer seemed content to wait until he was a begging mess.
“Fuck me. Now. Please. Spencer. God, I need it.”
“You want me to fuck you good? Take you hard?”
“God, yes. Please.” He didn’t even try to keep the tremble out of his voice.
