CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JAKE
I was certain I was dreaming again. There was no way last night was real. Those kinds of things only happened to me in my dreams. Was I really in Gabriel’s arms right now, with his spicy scent in my nose and his naked body flush against mine? Please, don’t let me wake up.
I skimmed my thumb across his stomach, tracing the gentle peaks and valleys of his abs.
They weren’t overly developed but it was clear he took care of himself.
I moved to his side, faint stretch marks marring his skin.
He was beautiful. He was so smooth and warm, and I moved to the treasure trail of dark hair under his belly button.
The scratchy, thin blanket rode low on his hips, revealing the short hairs of his crotch.
Every part of him was fascinating. I wanted to reach under the blanket and see if he was sporting morning wood.
Touching was a double-edged sword for me.
I craved touching him more, but I wasn’t sure I deserved to.
He turned his head toward me so he could kiss the top of my hair. Last night wasn’t a dream, was it?
We’d made out in the backseat of his Bond car, and he’d taken me to a cheap motel with a hard bed and weird smell.
He’d kissed and touched every inch of my body until I couldn’t think.
It was exactly the kind of raunchy behavior I’d been wanting to experience but had always been too afraid to attempt.
But with him, I was comfortable in a way I’d never been with anyone else, despite us only seeing each other for a month.
I nuzzled against his chest, feeling oddly–What was the word? Safe? Happy? Right.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his tone rough from sleep.
It was indeed a good morning. My mind was still hazy with thoughts of last night. I’d never had anyone make me feel the way he did–like an alive, sexual being. A man and not some scared little boy who could barely function.
He skimmed his fingertips along my bare shoulder, and I recalled those simple touches that had helped bring me to orgasm. It was a whisper of sensation, but it shot goosebumps across my body. Last night, as wonderful as it was, wasn’t enough. I needed more.
I listened to his gentle breathing as I tried to muster the courage to reach under the blanket and grab his cock. But whatever bravery I’d discovered last night was gone. I relished this moment, focusing on his warm body, smooth skin, and the smell of a virile man.
“I don’t want to get up,” he rasped. “I want to lay here with you all day, naked. That sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”
A smile pulled at my lips, and I nodded against him. “It does.”
“But they’re going to kick us out at eleven.” He shifted his weight onto his side so that he was facing me and rubbed his bleary eyes with his knuckles. He cocked a lazy smile. “Hello, handsome.”
He was such a charmer. “I don’t believe you. I’m hideous in the morning.”
“Impossible. It is morning, and you look gorgeous with bed head, skin all red from my kisses, and the afterglow of great sex.”
Heat rushed to my face. “Stop it. You like making me squirm.”
“I do.” He touched my chin and guided me into a chaste kiss. “It was great, right? Judging by the sounds you made, I’m assuming it was great.”
“You just want to hear me say it,” I said, slightly annoyed. He was bringing out a side of me I didn’t know I had.
“Guilty as charged.” That slanted smile stretched, and his warm palm slid down to my hip.
My voice cracked as I recalled him helping me discover my nipples. “Yeah. It was great. You are very talented.”
He rumbled in laughter. “I try my best. Think of last night as an amuse bouche. The main course is yet to come.”
“A what?”
“Amuse bouche? It’s French and means to amuse the mouth. Like an appetizer. I’m so taking you fine-dining one day. You’ll like it.” His hand wandered to my behind where he cupped my ass cheek. “Okay?”
I both loved and hated that he had to ask permission. I wanted him to explore me freely. I was also thankful he'd been careful with me. I sighed and snuggled closer to him, not wanting this to end. “Yes.”
He was quiet for a long moment, and I thought he’d fallen back asleep, until he asked, “Are you okay with everything we did last night?”
“Yes,” I breathed out, focusing on the weight of his palm cupping my ass. “But I hate that you have to ask. I’m sorry I’m so…fragile.”
“You’re not. And it’s fine. Soon, you’ll be begging me to fuck you.” He craned his head back so he could look at me, those beautiful hazel eyes shining with warmth. “You want me to, right? I mean, not everyone likes it, but…”
I bit back a shy smile. “Yes. I do.”
“Do what?” He prompted with a cocked brow.
“You’re terrible.” I dragged in a ragged breath. “Yes, I’d like you to fuck me one day. But…”
“Hm?”
“Never mind.” I tried to turn away from him, but he held me close.
“Tell me. Please?” He kissed my forehead, his hands running up my back. I prayed he never stopped holding me.
“It’s embarrassing,” I countered.
“I don’t care. I want to know more about you. Please?”
His begging nearly broke me. Biting my lip, I figured I needed to let him in. I wanted to, but it was easier said than done. The small amount of trust I’d given him so far had worked out well. “I’ve never done anal with someone.”
“Oh.” A slow grin spread across his face like Wile E. Coyote. “I’m happy to be your first. Fuck, you don’t know how hot that makes me.”
I couldn’t think of a better person to pop my cherry. “Not that I haven’t…ah…”
“Do you play with your hole, baby boy?” he inquired and rested his head against his hand. He looked prepared to listen to a lengthy and detailed story. “Tell me about it. I want to know. Do you like it?”
“Ah…sometimes. I like it.”
“With your fingers?” His hand shifted closer to my crack as if he were imagining it.
“Yes…and…”
“What? Tell me. Please?”
“I thought I was the one that was supposed to be begging?”
“Oh you will be. I promise.”
I bit my lip and tried to arrange a string of words into a coherent sentence in my mind, but they all sounded wrong. “Sometimes I use other things.”
“Like dildos?”
I sputtered a nervous laugh. “I can’t afford sex toys. No…ah, you’re going to laugh at me, I know it.”
“Tell me,” he said, pouting his bottom lip out like a child.
I rolled my eyes and said quietly, “Produce.”
I expected him to burst out in laughter, but he hooded his eyes and asked, “Yeah? What kind? I need to know so I can picture it.”
“No, I’m not telling you.” My heart was jumpy all of a sudden. I wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or anxiety. Maybe both.
“I’ll have to use my imagination then. Cucumbers? Eggplants?”
“No! Way too big. Ah, more like carrots or English cucumbers–they are a lot smaller and thinner. Oh God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” I moved to get out of bed, but he pulled me back in, his strong arms wrapping around me so that my back was against his chest.
“I think it’s hot,” he rasped against my ear then thrust his hard cock along my asscrack.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” He sucked my ear lobe into his hot mouth, sending a shiver through me. “Now I’m never going to look at produce again without thinking of you sliding a cucumber into your ass. Did you get aroused helping me shop for an eggplant?”
“Ugh.”
“Will you fuck yourself with a cucumber while I watch?” He rumbled against my ear, his breath hot. “Please?”
Heat shot through me, and I wanted to throw the blankets away, except then he’d see my hard-on. But what did it matter? The feeling of sharing myself with him without disapproval was amazing.
“You don’t have to hide from me, baby boy,” he murmured and found my sensitized nipple with his fingers. “I want to know your deepest kinks even if they involve produce.”
I tried to hold back my moans, but it was hard.
He was too sexy, too devilish, and it was difficult telling him no.
If he wanted to watch me fuck myself with a cucumber, he was likely going to get his way.
For the briefest of moments, I wanted to confess everything to him, including the need to wear lingerie.
If he took my use of produce for sexual gratification this well, he’d likely be into me wearing slutty underwear, wouldn’t he?
But the words got caught in my throat. I didn’t want to ruin this moment. “I…”
“What do you need?” he purred and traced circles around my nipple. The touches went right to my cock, reigniting the flame that had burst to life last night.
I took his hand and pushed it under the covers where my cock was hard and leaking.
He made a sound akin to a feral animal and started stroking me.
His own cock was sandwiched in the crack of my ass and as he jacked me off, he thrust himself in sync to his movements.
I thought I’d be completely spent after last night, but the knot in my balls tightened.
I ended up spilling all over his hand, while he coated my crack in hot cum.
“Well, I can’t think of a better way to wake up in the morning,” he mumbled.
I bit my lip, the tease floating around in my mind. I decided not to hold back. “How about with your cock in my mouth?”
He laughed so hard the bed shook. “Look at you. I play with your nipples a little and you come out of your shell. I love it.”
I tried to hide my embarrassment, but he cuddled me close and kissed the back of my shoulder.
“Come on, let’s take a shower and skedaddle.”
Having grown up in foster homes, I’d bathed in close proximity to others before, but showering with him and washing away the remnants of sex was really nice.
He skimmed the tiny bar of soap all over me while I made use of the shampoo bottles afforded by the motel.
He offered me the soap and I took it, taking my time exploring his body under the guise of getting him clean.
It was surprising to me how exciting and intimate bathing with each other could be.