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TWENTY-ONE
Icarus’s pout disappeared. “Adam, I—”
He reached out and skated a thumb over Icarus’s lower lip, wanting the pout back, wanting more. “I’ve never brought anyone else here. I haven’t been here, haven’t been with anyone else, since—”
Cursing, Icarus rose on his knees, and for a heart-stopping moment, Adam was terrified he was going to leave. But then he threw a leg over Adam’s lap, grasped his chin, and slammed their mouths together, giving Adam the lip he wanted and more, grinding down onto his cock that had been erect since that pout had first appeared. Adam grasped his hips and rolled, pressing up against him. Icarus gasped, and Adam didn’t waste the opportunity, diving inside Icarus’s mouth, tongues colliding and twining, parrying until Icarus tore his mouth away long enough to rip off his sweater, giving Adam access to all the skin he hadn’t had time to fully enjoy the night before.
Adam leaned forward, swirling a tongue around one pert nipple, toying with it and relishing the answering rock and grind of Icarus’s hips. He traveled from one cool pec to the other, administering the same torture and receiving it right back, Icarus’s glide over his cock sublime. Hands climbing Icarus’s back, he felt the vampire’s cool skin heat with the sun and his touch. Heat further as he trailed his fingers back down and inside Icarus’s jeans, palming the cheeks he’d craved all day.
Icarus angled his ass up, forcing more separation, creating a path for where he clearly wanted Adam’s fingers to go. And in case he wasn’t sure, the bossy courtesan told him so. “Touch me. There.”
He slid his fingers down the cleft of Icarus’s ass, found his rim, and circled. Tapped. And damn near came in his pants from the wanton moan that rumbled up Icarus’s throat. The spike was enough to bring his mind back online—a little. “We need to talk,” he mouthed against the underside of Icarus’s chin.
Icarus tilted back his head, giving him more access while at the same time shoving a hand between them and palming Adam through his jeans. “We need to celebrate the fact we’re still alive.” He stroked, hard and rough. “And I need to feel this inside me.”
Adam was torn. Not about whether to have that talk. Fuck talking. With the gorgeous man in his lap, his hand fondling Adam’s cock with maddening, wonderful strokes on the edge of too hard and too slow, there was only fucking on his mind. He was torn over whether to lie back and let Icarus torture him to death or push his finger past Icarus’s rim and find out if his insides were as warm as his skin was becoming under the sun. Icarus made the decision for him, thrusting back on his finger, and fuck yes, furnace-hot muscles clenched around his finger.
He groaned, and Icarus smiled against his lips. “You want in there?”
More than anything right then, with one caveat. “Yes, but I need—”
Icarus reached behind his back, grasped Adam’s wrists, and pulled them around front. He let them go only long enough to rid Adam of his Henley, then with his grip firm around Adam’s far more breakable bones, he laid him out, pinned to the ground. “Don’t worry. I’ll still be in control while I ride you.”
Relief washed through him. “Yes,” he groaned. “I need that.”
“You keep your hands right there.”
Easier said than done, especially when Icarus stood, stripped out of his jeans, and teased a view of his erect cock, straining against his black lace underwear. Adam bit his bottom lip and fought his warring urges—shove his hand down his pants and stroke his cock or shove his hand down his pants and grab his balls to stop from coming. Either case, his hand was halfway to his fly when Icarus lightly kicked his arm back in place, tutting, “Be good now. I’ll take care of that, I promise.”
Step one, relieving Adam of his pants and underwear, stripping him naked. Step two, straddling his lap once more and dragging his lace-covered taint across Adam’s cock in a slow, tortuous glide, making Adam bite his lip and arch his back. Step three, streaking his torso with precome as Icarus knee walked the rest of the way up his body until his knees were on either side of Adam’s head, cock so close Adam could feel the heat, smell his and Icarus’s precome combining to stain the lace even darker. “You’re going to help me ruin these pretty panties.” Knees on the insides of Adam’s biceps to keep him pinned, Icarus positioned his crotch directly over his face. “Just with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”
There was nothing Adam wanted to taste more. He peppered either seam of the briefs with hot breaths and long, slow licks. Twirled his tongue around one ball, then the other. Nipped along the seams until he flattened his tongue and mouthed both balls at once through the lace. Everywhere but Icarus’s cock. He wanted to return some of the torture. Icarus keened above him, his broad chest beading with sweat, his head thrown back and mouth hanging open. “Get those lips on my cock. Now. I want you to taste it when I come. Then I want to taste me on you.”
Adam followed orders, but not without tasting every inch of Icarus’s cock, licking a slow trail up the underside, swirling a tongue around the lace-covered tip, then sealing his lips around the ridge of him. He mouthed a path to his root, then kissed every inch on the way back to his crown, lashing it with his tongue before closing his lips around the tip again, dampening the lace with his spit, wetting it further as he greedily sucked.
Icarus fell forward, stretching over him and riding his face with abandon that Adam relished. He lost himself in the scratch of rough lace, Icarus’s musky scent and taste, the aching pressure building in his own balls, the breeze that wafted across his bare, heated flesh, and the pleasure of being so completely used.
Icarus tunneled a hand in his hair and forced his gaze up to meet his. “I’m going to come, but you’re not. Do you understand me?”
Adam groaned, not altogether certain he could oblige.
Icarus’s fingers curled in his hair. “I’ll pull off. Won’t give you that come you want so badly. Not if it means I can’t have what I want most in the world right now. Your cock in my ass. Do you understand?”
He swirled his tongue around Icarus’s crown again, and two thrusts later, Icarus came with a shout, come leaking through the lace and mesh. If Adam was greedy before, he was ravenous now, swallowing and licking up all he could, whining in protest when Icarus lifted off his face.
He slid back down him, smearing come across his chin, his chest, and then once he was straddled across Adam’s hips, he smirked, fang teasing the upturned corner of his mouth. “I had to save some for myself.” He reached a hand in his briefs, gathered the moisture there, and reached behind himself.
Arms freed, Adam threw one over his eyes, the sight, the pressure in his balls too much. Icarus’s laugh was the definition of uninhibited and sexy, fitting here in this place where Adam last remembered being the same. The sound of fabric ripping drew Adam’s gaze back to Icarus, who tossed the tattered lace aside, grasped Adam’s cock with his slick hand, and guided it inside him. Adam scrabbled for mustard weeds, anything to grab hold of, to keep from reaching for Icarus so he could follow orders.
“Get your hands on me,” Icarus said.
Thank fuck. Adam levered up, arms twining around the beast in his arms, holding him tight. He thrust up as their lips met, Adam giving Icarus the moan-inducing taste he wanted while demanding Adam keep up with the frantic roll of his hips, working his cock, building him fast and furious.
“I’m gonna count us down, and you’re gonna come on one.”
Adam nodded.
“Five.”
