Chapter 10 #2
And wasn’t that quite the forbidden thing to want?
Forbidden fruit tastes all the sweeter, was what someone once said to him. Connor didn’t want to recall who, sitting beside Nate now.
“So, maybe you're worth the danger,” Nate said smoothly. His knee brushed against Connor's as he shifted in his seat. But he didn't draw back.
And Connor didn't respond. He eyed Nate's legs, gaze tracing over the shape of his thighs, the tailored fit of his slacks, the way they hugged his hips.
And for a moment, his gaze fell between those thighs, wondering if that was the outline of his desire in his slacks or just the shadows playing tricks on his mind.
And in his silence, Nate reached out again.
“Do you think… I'm worth the danger?”
Connor's gaze snapped up to find Nate's face, his dark eyes framed by long black lashes, those lips always curving into some maddening smile-
Oh, hell.
He moved before he knew what he was doing, Connor crossing the distance between them as he slid across the cushions until he was hip to hip with Nate.
Turning to face him was the next logical step, his rest against Nate's knee to support his weight as he turned, as those lips met his as effortlessly as breathing.
Tobacco.
Had he been smoking before Connor arrived?
It was the first thing he tasted and he pulled back, curious, wondering what other mysteries lay in this man.
But nothing seemed different–just him, just Nate, just the two of them on this loveseat.
“Okay?” Nate asked, like he was terrified Connor would say no.
“Okay,” Connor answered, catching his wrist, pulling Nate back to him.
And he followed where he was wanted, meeting him again, lips against impossibly soft lips. Connor breathed him in, took him in, parted himself and let it be messy and sloppy.
Perfection wasn’t needed, not here, not when he felt so warm and buzzed so pleasantly, his body fitting against Nate’s where he’d wondered at but hadn’t let himself want before.
And Nate’s warm hand cupped his jaw, holding him, angling his head just so, so Nate might deepen the kiss as far as they were both willing, so that Connor wasn’t going anywhere while he did it.
Not that Connor did. Not that he even wanted to.
Between them began a dance Connor danced to perfection dozens of times before, a push and pull, give and take of two bodies, two young men in a tango of claiming, possessing, and submitting in even flow.
He was the one to move first, yes, and Nate was the one who kept him in place as they kissed, but it was Connor who mirrored him, who hooked an arm around him to clutch him close, no doubt wrinkling the pricey satin of his shirt.
And he felt the muscles of Nate’s back shift beneath his touch, his nose sliding against Connor’s, hot breath on his lips.
Connor could already feel his erection straining against the fabric of his slacks, regretting the slim cut of his suit. Nothing to hide it under, his desire clearly written beneath his clothes.
And Nate couldn't have missed it even if he was blindfolded, palm flat against Connor's thigh, warmth of his skin sleeping through his pants like lava. He caught Connor's lip between his teeth, sharp and stinging, while tracing over his erection with a thumb.
And fuck if that wasn’t enough to have his head spinning. He breathed in hard through his nose, dizzy off Nate’s cologne and the way he licked into his mouth.
Nate practically had him lying on his back against the cushions of the loveseat when he broke the kiss, something half-formed gasped against Connor’s chin.
“What?”
“Can I blow you?”
“Yeah. Fuck, Nate. Yeah, you can. C’mere.”
He threaded his fingers through Nate’s hair to kiss him, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled back.
The surprised sound he made had Connor’s cock twitching. And then he let him go, watching through half-lidded eyes while Nate dropped to his knees on the rug, palms smoothing up his thighs as though a reverent at the altar of Connor’s body.
Hardly the dominant position he imagined. Nate was nothing close to submissive in the way he kneaded Connor’s thighs with a too-confident touch, his warm fingers tracing him out through his slacks.
Those dark eyes missed nothing, not even the way Connor’s breath caught in his throat as those deft fingers worked his slacks open, warm hand stroking his half-hard cock to full erection.
Even this was good, just laying back and having someone else touching him for once.
Like what you see? Connor thought of asking, but the greedy look in Nate’s eyes was enough to tell him he did, biting his own lip as he watched his fist slide up and down Connor’s flushed cock.
His thighs twitched on either side of him, Nate’s free hand gripping his flesh as though to keep him in place. Like Connor would go anywhere now.
Those dark eyes flickered up to meet his own gaze like a silent request for permission, one answered with a slight jerk of his head, met by Nate’s lips twitching into a grin before he got to work.
One thing became unbelievably clear as Nate mouthed up the length of his cock, long dark lashes delicate upon his cheeks–not only had he done this before, but he was good at it.
Where Nate might put up a competent mask and flounder in key moments at work, he was well practiced with that hand and mouth of his, eagerly working Connor right where he needed to be.
Even better, he didn’t need to be directed on pace or depth, didn’t need to be steered or guided–and he didn’t push Connor into a position that would be easier.
He simply was.
Connor threaded his fingers through short, dark curls, swallowing back a moan, exhaling a slow breath through his nose.
“Good,” he breathed, though Nate hadn’t asked. “So good, fuck, that’s–”
He cut himself off, head falling back against the loveseat. Incredible, that’s what it was. Utterly incredibly having a man like Nate on his knees for him, eager to please him.
When exactly was the last time he’d had that? Not since–
“Oh–Christ, Nate, I think I–”
Nate knew exactly what he was doing.
That was undeniable in the way he swallowed Connor down, bobbing his head up and down his length, a slick wet and filthy mess stringing a trail of spittle between his lips and the glistening flushed frenulum of his cock.
And Connor reacted before he was even aware of it, catching a fistful of his hair and pulling him up for a breathless kiss.
“You’ll make me come, if you keep doing that,” he breathed. Nate only chuckled against his lips.
“Isn’t that the point?”
Not yet, was all Connor could think. And he kissed Nate like it was all he was worth, not caring that their teeth clacked, that he was sure he was could himself right on his tongue. No, he wanted this to last.
Maybe Nate pulled him up first, or maybe Connor pushed him off. He didn’t know, he had stopped paying attention to anything that wasn’t Nate’s hands or his mouth, but moving from the couch to the bed seemed to be a mutual decision, clothes abandoned along with Connor’s countless worries.
But he knew, undoubtedly, that it was Nate who pulled him into bed and that was where he found his lips again, breathing him in like a man drowning at sea with no shore in sight.
Skin against skin, his body like the sun itself against Connor, warm and bronzed and meeting him just where it was needed.
Fuck, it wasn’t just that Nate had a handsome face.
Connor couldn’t keep his hands off his broad chest, the relaxed muscles of his stomach, the jut of his hipbones, attractive curve of his own flushed erection that had Connor’s mouth salivating just at the sight of it.
Uncut, flushed dark and crowned with a near crimson glans dripping glistening beads of desire.
What Connor wouldn't have given to get on his knees right then and there and lick him clean, taste every inch of his skin, to bury his nose in the dark flush of pubic hair and breathe him in until nothing else remained.
But what he wanted even more was to feel Nate’s body flush against his.
He pulled Nate on top of him, silken bedsheets at his back, that too-heavy weight of another man pushing him into the sheets like a much-needed balm, all the while Nate kept very little to himself about how he felt when it came to seeing Connor in such a state.
“I can’t believe you were hiding this the whole time,” he breathed, warm palms greedy as they soaked up Connor’s bare skin, tracing over the lean muscles of his torso and arms. “Just look at you.”
“Don’t just look at me, come here.” Connor pleaded in a breathless voice, hooking an arm around the back of Nate’s neck and kissing him until he remembered the need to breathe. But Nate then moved, too, legs tangling with his, hips slotting just so.
Like he knew exactly what Connor wanted, hot erection almost a surprise, and then an intention, pulsing delicious heat right against his own.
Nate moved first, grinding his hips right into Connor’s in an easy rhythm that might have left the bedsprings creaking beneath them, but how could he possibly tell when the building heat between them was so perfect and good?
Here he was, less than a year out from thirty, rutting against another like a teenager again, thinking it was the best damn thing he’d ever had.
Fuck, this might have been.
But he wasn’t 18 anymore with an endless stamina, and when Connor’s hips stuttered, Nate’s arm snaked between them, warm fingers wrapping around them both. Those dark eyes found his, asking without asking.
“Yeah,” Connor breathed, grinding up against Nate from beneath him with a choked moan. “Yeah, c’mon.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you,”
It doesn’t matter that he’s a little drunk, and it doesn’t matter that it’s almost midnight. This is the best Connor has ever had and he holds nothing back in surrendering himself to Nate.
One word, repeated in his heat, over and over again like a chant. Good, good, fuck, this was so good.