Chapter 12 #2
“I’m fine… don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop…
” He grabbed Duncan’s forearms, holding on tight, letting him pick up the pace.
It hurt a bit, but Spencer didn’t care, filled with him, at ease with him, anchored to that man who had unexpectedly stepped into his life.
That shit life… and me… Spencer had no idea why Duncan wanted him, but he held him tight, and Duncan just laced his arms around him to hold him.
Hold him tight as Spencer lost it with a mewl, hold him as he lost it too with a moan. Rocking together, that lullaby of flesh on flesh, and breath on breath, filling their senses in the aftermath of that carnal pleasure.
Spencer clutched at his arms, almost out of breath. “Hold me… don’t let me go…”
Duncan heaved softly on top of him, tightening his arms as best as he could when he was already afraid, he would squeeze the breath out of Spencer’s lungs.
Planting kisses on his cheek, his lips. He pulled out softly and rolled on the floor, pulling Spencer with him, on him.
Wedged in his neck, Spencer just snuggled up closer, his lips on Duncan’s racing pulse, his cheek throbbing with Mia’s last slap.
A mighty good one too, he had had to swallow the blood in his mouth.
Duncan traced his shoulder and his other hand slid on his ribs, where the shirt was open. Stroking that soft skin, tracing his ribs. Gliding up to his chest where he just lazily played with his nipple.
A shuddering breath in his neck. “Let’s sleep here.”
Duncan smiled. “We can’t… your parents would worry.”
“I slept all over the place, they don’t care… Hotel, then. Please.” He kissed Duncan’s neck. “I’m not sleeping alone tonight…”
“Alright.”
Spencer pushed himself up. “I’ll book the room. Just drive. A small artsy hotel… not the fancy ones where people gossip.” He pushed his hand on Duncan’s cheek. “I’m not fucked up enough either… I need a few drinks.”
“You’re sure?” He had tasted that mouth flooded with alcohol and weed, and it seemed enough.
“Yes… sure… just drive. Artotel… it should be in the GPS.”
“Oh, I see…” He lifted his hips and pulled back up his boxers and pants.
Spencer took a cleaning towel and wiped the cum off the seat as best as he could. He chuckled. “Maybe I should have leather seats.”
“Too late now.” He scrambled out and sat in the driver’s seat, pulling the address up on the GPS. “Buckle up.”
Spencer had already done it, so Duncan drove away, his blood singing. Whatever they had as dark as the road winding down from that abandoned place which had just earned a new meaning. Thrilled a bit that they would spend the night, he still felt guilty as fuck that Spencer had broken up with Mia.
As if reading his thoughts. “I would have broken up with her, so don’t eat yourself up.”
“I wasn’t…”
Spencer laughed softly, the phone screen’s glow illuminating his face. “But you were. Very flattering, that you worry this much.”
“I mean, if she loved you, she must be devastated now…”
“Love? No, I don’t think so. It was maybe exciting to date me, oh and the money would have been good.
We breed among us, rich people, so it would have been an ok match.
But here we are… she was mad, sure… but maybe mad at losing that fucked up dream girls sometimes have, of a white dress and the knight in shining armor…
” His eyes, lost to the nightlights rushing.
“I’m no knight… so maybe she’s better off too…
” His eyes met Duncan’s in the mirror. “And you got the prized lunatic.” Grinning, with that dark light in his eyes.
“You’re not a lunatic.”
“’I’m fucked up.” Defiant, almost angry.
Duncan smiled. “That I can agree with.”
Laughing, their laughter bursting that sudden hate and grief which had flooded Spencer’s heart.
The hotel, the room, some sort of faux-chic hotel with red walls, art on them, colorful lights, which Spencer just put to red in that room the color of blood.
He turned to Duncan, looking like a devil in that red light. Or a fallen angel. Letting his shirt slip to the floor as he stepped into Duncan’s arms, his fingers popping his buttons open on his shirt, never leaving his eyes. “Like it?”
“It’s… red…”
Spencer’s dark eyes, his hands pushing on his bare chest, his nails scraping his skin. “Like hell… a beautiful hell…” Those sharp nails gliding up to Duncan’s neck, sinking into his skin and flesh.
Duncan hissed but his lips got sealed by Spencer.
Beautiful hell… His hands went on Spencer’s back, under his hair, pulling him close, as he opened up to him.
That wide, wild kiss, tumbling to that huge bed.
They fell on it, Duncan under Spencer, hands finding belts, buttons, pushing, pulling, until there was nothing left but their bare skin on those cool covers.
Until only they remained in that red room, Spencer straddling Duncan, his hands braced om that broad chest, his fingers tracing his scars as he rocked his hips on him.
Duncan reached to take their cocks in his fist, letting Spencer ride him like this, not wanting to fuck him to hurt his ass.
A wild ride, his nails digging into his skin, wide kisses, Spencer’s hair dancing around them.
Moans, breaths, panting, their sweat slicking up their skin.
Too close, too fast, but it was not even possible to hold back, not when their eyes met, those tortured eyes, filling with a new light as they came together, flooding Duncan’s abs and chest, pearls of cum landing on his chin and lips too.
Spencer smiled, wide, and leant down, thrilled, because he had never done anything like this, but he licked off all that cum on Duncan’s face, lashing his tongue in his mouth, making him swallow.
Dizzy, more. Licking his way up from Duncan’s navel to his chest, he went back to kissing him, drenched in saliva and cum, moaning into each other’s mouth as they tasted themselves on the other’s tongue.
Laughing a bit, kissing softly. Spencer collapsed on Duncan’s soaked chest, tracing his skin. Not even wanting to move, his eyelids fluttered at his warmth, and he closed his eyes, letting his rising chest lull him to sleep.
Duncan just caressed that lean back softly.
He pulled the covers on them, letting Spencer sleep on him, one hand pushed into that silk hair.
He turned his face into it too, breathing in deep Spencer’s scent laced with weed.
Letting his soft breathing lull him to sleep too.
That burning body on top of him, blended to his skin, his silk hair like haven for his battered heart.
A much needed poison for his aching blood.