AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Good,” he murmured. “Very good.” He slid Jesse’s trousers and pants down together. His erection sprang free. He bit his lip until the tidal wave building in his belly subsided. Emory examined him hungrily.
“Undress,” he commanded as he began to undo his own belt. “I want to see all of you.”
The tone in his voice made Jesse quiver all over. His legs shook as he stood and shrugged himself out of his shirt and jacket, kicked off his shoes and bent over to rid himself of his trousers and socks. He straightened, naked, breathing hard. Emory’s gaze roamed his body, a dark hunger burning in his eyes. Some color had crept into his cheeks, and he was no longer smiling.
“The anticipation is quite potent, isn’t it?” Emory said in a low voice as he unbuckled unfastened his own fly. Jesse watched the movements with his mouth filling with saliva. But then he paused. “Are you sure you want this, Jesse? We can stop.”
“Fuck that,” Jesse forced out of his tight throat. “I’ve not stopped thinking about… Fuck, yes, I want to.”
Emory smiled then reached inside his trousers and drew out a thick semi-erect member. “Come here.”
Jesse obeyed as soon as he had regained control of his limbs. His eyes were level with Emory’s throat. The haemophile ran his hands down Jesse’s arms, grasped his wrists and guided Jesse’s hands toward his cock.
“I want your touch, Jesse,” he breathed into Jesse’s hairline. “I want you to feel me. Know me.”
Jesse shut his eyes and closed his hands around the warm, firm flesh. It took both his hands to grasp the entire length. Emory made a noise deep in his chest that made Jesse’s skin tighten across his body.
“You’re…” he croaked, cleared his throat and tried again. “You’re not hard.”
Emory inhaled, gliding his hands up Jesse’s arms and taking a gentle hold of his jaw. He tilted his face up and brought their lips together. His eyes were hooded, his breathing low and slow. “Make me hard,” he breathed against his lips.
Jesse shuddered with pleasure. He began to stroke Emory’s cock. Emory sighed against his mouth. His flesh stiffened. Jesse’s own cock quivered and throbbed, the head just brushing Emory’s trouser leg. Jesse longed to rub against him, but the baron’s commands still rang, deep and insistent, in his bones.
Emory groaned. He held Jesse’s head in place with both hands as Jesse, panting, pumped his hardening cock. Soon the flesh was like iron in Jesse’s grip, and Emory swept his long tongue over Jesse’s lips.
Jesse opened his mouth with a low moan, and Emory slid his tongue inside. Jesse shivered to taste him—whiskey and smoke and a rich, autumnal taste like the darkest of red wines. He stepped closer, tilting his head to kiss him back. The taste was intoxicating. When his tongue snagged on a sharp tooth, Jesse froze, pain lancing through him. He tasted blood and Emory tensed, shuddering, sucking on Jesse’s tongue and swallowing.
Jesse’s blood pounded in his temples, his groin, his chest. But Emory broke the kiss. “No, I can’t taste you that way, Jesse. No blood. Understand?”
Jesse was too dizzy with desire to answer. He kissed Emory’s neck, tasting the cool, fresh skin. He continued to pump Emory’s cock while pressing his own against his thigh. “What now?” he rasped, his voice harsh and distant, even to himself.
“On your knees.”
The command in Emory’s tone undid something inside Jesse. He dropped to his knees. The heat from the fire warmed his bare skin. The low light cast shadows all around them. He grasped Emory’s hips, staring at the huge, trembling cock before him with his mouth open. He looked up. Emory was gazing at him. His mouth was open. His large chest swelled as he breathed.
“Make me feel it, Jesse.”
Jesse leaned in, closed his eyes and took the swollen head of Emory’s cock into his mouth. Emory didn’t make a sound, but his muscles bunched under Jesse’s hands. He tasted so weird and wonderful, like bonfires and autumn wind, dizzying as the brandy but richer. Jesse drew his tongue along the underside and swirled it over the head before taking it into his throat as far as he could. This time Emory groaned, a low, seismic sound like a storm out at sea.
Jesse listened to and felt him, tasted him and breathed him in. He ached to jerk himself off, to crash into the swollen tempest of orgasm that had been building under his chest ever since Emory had first moved along the sofa. But he kept his hands on Emory’s hips, digging his fingers in, feeling his strength, drinking in his taste, savoring every last second of the anticipation.
His knees began to ache, as did his jaw. He started to use his hands, rubbing and pumping his cock as he lathered attention on the head with his mouth.
Emory watched with burning eyes. His breathing had deepened. He clutched at the mantlepiece. Then, when Jesse moaned and took him in as deep as he physically could, Emory shuddered and let out a long, low groan.
“Now, Jesse,” he rasped. “Touch yourselfnow.”
Jesse fumbled for his cock. The world splintered and exploded. Heat coursed through him. His helpless cry was muffled by the solid weight of flesh in his mouth. He heard Emory moan as if from a great distance and hot, silky fluid poured down his throat. He swallowed it all, beating the last blossoms of his own orgasm through his body with a few more tugs. He sat back on his heels, panting with his eyes closed and head spinning.
Emory helped him to his feet and kissed him. It was languid and slow, lazy and intense all at once.
“How was that?” he whispered against his lips.
“Good,” Jesse said, his voice hoarse, blinking to try to regain his focus. “Different. But good.”
“I’m glad,” Emory murmured as he tucked himself back in his trousers and straightened his clothing. “Now you should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah…yeah,” Jesse muttered and started to collect his clothes. Emory helped him into his trousers and shirt then passed him his shoes. “Look,” Jesse said, frowning heavily even as a pleasant sleepiness weighted his body and his mind. “I…I don’t know what this is between us…don’t know if I need to know…but…”
