Chapter 11 #2
Ellis stood there for a second. He hadn’t thought Ichabod would actually get up the courage to do this, but the fine son of a bitch had.
“I am into it. You. Us. Whatever. I mean shit.” Ellis rolled his eyes and took off his hat, running his hands over his short hair. “Yes. I’m interested. I’m ready to—”
Talking wasn’t doing either one of them any good, so he stopped bothering with it, then he leaned forward and kissed Ichabod right on the mouth.
If the problem wasn’t wanting, and the problem was Ichabod worrying about him being the boss, that was something Ellis could work with.
The kiss went deep and hot, their tongues tangling together, and he slid one hand behind Ichabod’s head, cradling it so he could tilt them just right. The angle changed, and bang, they were cooking with gas.
Lots of it.
This wasn’t a slow burn.
This was a match tossed onto a gasoline-soaked hay bale.
He loved the way Ichabod’s body fit against his, the man wiry and solid, pure muscle. He worked for a damn living and Ellis respected the hell out of that. And he liked that body, holding it close to his, loving on Ichabod with his hands and mouth.
He shivered—partly from need, but a lot from sheer cold. The temperature was crashing.
“Come inside? It’s freezing.” Ichabod started backing up toward the house.
“Uh-huh. Coming.” He followed right along. Chrissy was at day care. The kids were at school. Even if a storm kicked up hard, they had time before they had to go get them.
So he was going to take this and run with it.
The house was warm and solid, quiet, and it was the easiest thing ever to step up to Ichabod, draw their lips together again.
“Mmm.” Ichabod wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing up close, rubbing against his belly through their clothes.
He wasn’t sure what he’d thought Ichabod would be like, but this eager hunger surprised the hell out of him. His own desire was no shock. He’d been jacking off to Ichabod for weeks.
He chuckled, walking Ichabod back toward a flat surface.
“Never made love in this house.”
He tilted his head. “No? Not even…before?”
“No! God no. That would be weird.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Is it weird now? ‘Cause it’s awful cold to go to the barn.” Ellis grinned.
“No. This is our house now. Not Vic’s.” Ichabod palmed his ass. “Not weird.”
“Right.” He went up on tiptoe, because that made his cock jerk in his jeans. Damn.
“I—I want you. Can we…I mean, how far do you want to go?” Sweet man.
“As far as we can, honey. But I will never push for something you don’t want. Bedroom?” That was right to the point, he figured.
“Please. I want to see you. Touch you.” Ichabod twined their fingers together and led him down the hall.
He followed eagerly, his body warming now they were inside, his blood running hot. He wanted Ichabod naked with him, wanted to touch and lick every part of him.
They got to the bedroom, which was the least finished room in the house—mostly a bed and boxes piled up all around, marked pictures, clothes, and knickknacks.
Ellis had seen it before a couple of times when Ichabod had asked him to bring something down to the studio, like a change of clothes, or a weird tool he hadn’t unpacked yet. But Ellis liked the bones of the space, and he knew that bed had to be comfy.
And it was absolutely big enough for two.
Ichabod pulled off his hoodie before helping him to unbutton his flannel. It was incredible, to see those clever fingers dance over his buttons.
His belly tightened, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. It was a hell of way to start, and he ached for this, his cock pushing at his zipper, begging to get out.
He wanted to feel Ichabod’s hands on him, and he didn’t want to wait — not for anything.
It wasn’t until Ichabod got his shirt all the way open and started pushing it off his shoulders that Ellis realized he ought to help.
“Sorry, baby, for just standing here. You make me a little dizzy.”
“A little dizzy is all right. I can accept that.” Ichabod grinned at him, pushing that amazing silver hair out of his face. “I like that I get to unwrap you.”
He licked his lips, his gut burning. “I’m all yours.”
“Yeah? That’s a hell of a good thing.” Ichabod watched as he shrugged the shirt off all the way, then attacked the buttons of his jeans. “But you can help. I don’t want to damage anything important with a zipper.”
“Nope. I need that.” He helped ease said zipper down. “It is all for you, though.”
“Uh-huh.” Ichabod was looking down, that gaze focused on his fly, and he moaned when his cock sprang free, the relief from all that pressure kind of amazing.
His cock was so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it, and as he shoved his jeans off, nearly toppling over because his boots were still on, Ichabod took him in hand.
His lips popped open, and he sucked in a huge lungful of air, like he was fixin’ to ride a goddamn bull. Damn, those calluses felt like heaven on his cock. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m just getting started.” Ichabod’s laugh filled the air, but it wasn’t mean. It was warm and happy, joyous, even as Ichabod bent to help his tug his boots off.
“Oh, good. Let’s get you all naked too, huh? I want to touch all of you.” He helped Ichabod stand before he tugged at the big sweater, knowing it hid wiry muscles and smooth skin.
Ichabod let go of him with one hand at a time so they could work the sweater off, and it was awkward enough they both had to laugh, but somehow sexual as all get-out, making him pant for breath.
“I love weird, awkward first-time sex.” Ichabod winked at him.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love, ‘gee, I know every inch of your body and I’m going to hit every hot spot you’ve ever had’ sex too.
I’m also a bit of a fan of a quickie in the bathroom, quickies in the barn, and long, long nights where we both wake up and feel like we’re hungover sex too. ”
“Damn, baby.” He took a kiss to hush Ichabod up or this would be over before it even started. He walked Ichabod to the bed, pushing him down on it so he could spread the man out. “I like whatever you give me. You do it for me.”
Ichabod was hot. And when he got those loose jeans open, Jesus Christ.
The man’s prick was long, the curls crowning it as black as pitch. Best of all, it was tipped at the end with a tiny gold ring.
He blinked up, eyes wide. “What’s this?”
“Surprise!” Ichabod grinned at him, shrugged. “I got it on a dare when I was a teenager. It’s totally healed, obviously. I liked it, so I kept it.”
“Damn.” He ran his thumb over it, testing how sensitive Ichabod was.
“Uhn.” Ichabod arched up, hips popping, and he grinned. Oh, hell, this was gonna be some real fun.
He reached next to tug on those dark curls. “I was expecting these to be silver too.”
“I know, weird, right? I started going gray at sixteen. I kinda love it. I think it’s hot.”
Ellis loved how confident in some things Ichabod was, how direct. It was charming. He had to wonder what that ring would taste like on his tongue. Would it be metallic?
Maybe he ought to work his way down there and find out. So, he kissed and licked and nibbled from neck to collarbone, to one tiny, flat nipple.
It drew up tight, like it was begging him to stay and play, but he had a goal. He kept heading south, nuzzling that hot little belly, heading towards that sweet prick that was hard and ready for him, lying on those abs.
The ring was tangy on his tongue, but he only noticed that for a heartbeat because the flavor of Ichabod flooded him as he dragged his tongue over the slit.
Fuck, that was stunning. He licked again before sucking Ichabod’s cock deep into his mouth, swallowing to get more inside. He figured he was pretty good at this. Well, at least no one had ever complained.
“Oh fuck. Fuck, man. I. Whoa.” Ichabod’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he sucked in a hard breath. “I can’t. Don’t stop!”
There’s no way he was going to stop. Not a single chance in hell. This was the most fun he’d had in years.
He would suck the man dry, given the chance. And then try to bring him up again. He wanted every damn thing.
“Mmm.” He hummed around Ichabod’s flesh, giving him more sensation.
Ichabod’s fingers tangled in his hair, not holding him down, but just touching him, making a circle of connection.
Oh, a circle.
He glanced up. “What’s your position on sixty-nines?”
Ichabod’s smile was almost a grimace. “My position is get your ass up here and let me have you.”
Who was this man, and where had this sexual being been hiding?
Ellis grinned wildly, turning his hips to give Ichabod access to his cock. He loved this almost as much as he loved a good, hard fuck. He sucked Ichabod back in, and his body went haywire when Ichabod took him in that hot, wet mouth.
It may have been a while since Ichabod had given head, but he knew what he was doing.
That tongue was like magic, slapping his shaft, tracing the veins.
He sucked Ellis as if he was a popsicle, open lips all the way down to the root, and then he clenched on, fastened tight, and sucked, pulling all the way up until he got to the tip.
And every time he got to the tip, that tongue probed his slit. It was unbearable and perfect.
His ass clenched, his balls drew up tight, and Ellis knew he wasn’t going to last. But that was okay. That gave them more to explore, more to discover.
Ichabod had him by the hips, pulling him in deep, swallowing around him, giving him the best experience of his life.
He would unpack that later, because he had a feeling it had an emotional component that was new for him, but right now, he was focused on the physical. And the physical was so damn fine.
Amazing, in fact.
Ichabod took him all the way in, giving him everything he needed, making his toes curl. So he arched, pushing deep, and Ichabod took it.
He grabbed that tight ass, pulling Ichabod in as far as he could. Nose buried in wiry curls, he breathed in deep, tongue working hard.