Chapter 22 Kobe
Kobe
I waited for a heartbeat, giving Dominique a chance to back out.
When he wet his lips and flicked his gaze to my mouth, it was game over.
I advanced, kissing him with bruising force as I backed him against a bookshelf.
Random items clattered and toppled, a few falling to the floor.
I didn’t care. If something broke, I would replace it.
Hopefully, they weren’t priceless treasures.
I wanted him with an urgency I couldn’t contain any longer.
I had let Dominique take the initiative the previous night, only crossing lines when he crossed them first. All evening, I monitored his body language and studied his demeanor, ensuring we were still okay.
He kissed me without prompting before dinner.
I took it as a good sign. What we’d shared hadn’t freaked him out.
If I’d seen even an ounce of regret or guilt, I would have held back, but Dominique seemed solid and sure of himself.
If the way he eagerly kissed me back said anything, he was on board with the direction I had in mind.
With his face clutched between my palms, I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, lavishing it with my tongue and biting gently before releasing it and pecking tenderly at the wound I’d inflicted.
Dominique fumbled with my shirt, untucking it and working the buttons open.
I broke free from his mouth long enough to wrench the tie over my head and toss it aside. “I fucking hate that thing.”
Dominique’s lips hooked into a one-sided smile as he fit the last two buttons through the tiny holes. “If I’m being honest. Ties and dress shirts don’t suit you.”
“Joggers and hoodies don’t fit the dress code, or I’d live in them.”
“Now that I can see.” Shirt undone, he pushed it down my arms, and I shook the tight cuffs over my hands, letting the garment puddle on the floor.
I snagged the hem of Dominique’s fitted polo and skated my fingers over the skin beneath. “May I?”
“Please.”
It was gone in a flash, over his head and lost somewhere in the room.
I was greeted with the broad expanse of his hairy chest, a commemorative tattoo with its silent wish, and his arms dimpled with goose bumps.
I rubbed my hands over them as though I could wipe them away, but they remained, and Dominique shivered.
“Are you cold?” It didn’t seem possible. I was on fire.
“No, Kobe.” He touched the tips of his fingers to my jaw, rasping their pads over my rough stubble. I nipped at one. “I’m incredibly aroused.”
“Oh yeah?” I grinned stupidly. “Good.”
He drew me forward. Our foreheads connected. Our noses bumped before he was on me again, pushing his tongue past my lips and kissing me deeply. It was possessive and hungrier than he’d ever kissed before.
I explored Dominique’s chest, grazing his ribs as he shuddered and laughed, before journeying to his abdomen.
His muscles quivered under the assault as I explored every ridge and valley.
His nipples grew to hard nubs under the assault, and I rolled one between my finger and thumb, making him fumble and falter against my mouth.
A deep rumble sounded from his chest as he tugged my hair, keeping me in place. I pinched the bud again, and Dominique broke free on a gasp, arching away from my touch.
“That’s sensitive.”
I chuckled. “That’s the point.”
I smoothed my hand along the side of his neck and cradled the back of his head, peering deep into his husky blue eyes, greyer at their center and darker indigo at the edges—deep pools of longing still tinged with a hint of heartache he couldn’t fully hide.
Dominique dragged his hands over the slopes of my shoulders and around to my back, venturing lower, following the curve of my spine. Our lower bodies were already crushed together, but he pulled me firmly against him. The stiff line of his cock rested against my hip, announcing his desire.
“Can I blow you?” The need to taste him was too powerful to ignore. “Please.”
Dominique blinked, seeming momentarily shocked by the blunt request, then he stammered with a surprised laugh, “Um, I’m not exactly going to say no.”
“Good.” I kissed him again, gentler that time.
“You don’t have to,” he said against my mouth.
“I want to. Desperately.”
Still cradling his head, I used my other hand to work the button free on his pants. He wore jeans, but with the zipper down, it took no effort to push them over his ass. They pooled around his ankles, and Dominique worked his feet free, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
I fondled his cock through his tight briefs while peering deep into his eyes, looking for signs of confliction or uncertainty.
There was none. Lust eclipsed that subtle hint of heartache he carried around, and for the first time, I watched Dominique, always so carefully composed, let go and give into the pleasure.
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, lips parting as he panted erratically.
The strained tendons in his neck called to me.
I nibbled his chin and raked my teeth over its rounded point as I moved lower, grazing my lips and tongue over the curve of his Adam’s apple, delving into the divot at his throat that I’d admired on day one.
As I savored the taste of his skin, I wedged my hand beneath the band of his underwear, locating the thick, rigid length of his cock beneath. I wrapped my fingers around him and gave a few slow, meaningful tugs, milking him for more guttural sounds.
“My god, Kobe.” His voice came out thick with need. “Do I have to beg?”
“I want to take my time with you, Doc.” I planted a line of kisses over his collarbone. “I want to bring you beyond your senses and leave you a quivering mess.” Peppered more across his shoulder.
“At this rate, I’ll be finished before you start.” Another groan when I tightened my grip. I was rewarded with a bead of precum that I smeared over his cockhead with my thumb.
Dominique rocked his hips, dragging his erection through my fist as I worked my way back to his mouth. I tipped his head forward and claimed it. The kiss was wet and uncoordinated but perfect.
“Want my mouth now?” I asked when another shudder ran through him and more precum seeped from his tip.
“Yes.”
“How long has it been?”
A pained expression. “Years.”
I had wondered if Dominique had been celibate since his wife’s death. Now I knew.
I dropped to my knees and pressed my hands against his thighs. They trembled under my palms, muscles jumping, nerves twitching. Glancing up, I caught Dominique with a helpless look on his face. Want. Need. Yearning. Desire.
His pupils swallowed the gorgeous color of his irises.
He brushed the hair off my forehead, tangling his fingers in the too-long strands. I loved the tender way Dominique buried his hands in it, and I didn’t give a fuck what my sergeant thought. At this rate, I would never cut it.
I held Dominique’s gaze until he nodded consent.
It was the first time I’d really seen his cock. The previous night, we had remained partly clothed on the couch. In the bedroom, darkness had cloaked the encounter. I took him in, savoring the sight before licking a path from base to crown.
Dominique cursed under his breath and urged me forward.
I wasn’t sure who took more pleasure in the blow job, him or me. I relished every burst of flavor that erupted on my tongue, treasured the soft noises that escaped Dominique’s lips, and cherished the way he trembled at my touch.
If this was the first time he’d experienced a blow job in years, I planned to make it count.
In no time, I had rendered him a quivering, panting, clinging-to-the-bookshelf-and-my-hair-for-dear-life mess. He chanted my name over and over, mindful of his volume, reminding me there was a sleeping toddler on the second floor we didn’t want to wake.
Dominique’s control broke, and he came on a stifled cry. His legs threatened to give out. His body bowed forward as his release filled my throat. I kept him in the moment for as long as I could, holding him up so he wouldn’t collapse, swallowing around him again and again.
When he calmed, I got to my feet and kissed him mercilessly. The man was jelly in my arms, barely able to make his lips work, and I chuckled at his lack of coordination.
“You wrecked me,” he rasped, voice hoarse.
“As intended. Should I put you to bed now?”
He hit me with a lazy, breathtaking smile. “Give me a minute. Not sure I can move.” He watched me with half-lidded eyes as though seeing me anew. “You’re pretty incredible, Kobe Haven.”
“Let me guess. You made another discovery on your scratch ticket.”
His chest bounced, humor dancing in his husky eyes. “I did. A marvelous discovery.”
“Is it fucked up that I almost understand this bizarre analogy now?” I ran a hand over his bare hip, keeping him close. “I hope the unveiled surprise was positive. I’d love to be a winner for a change. Tell me it was good.”
“It was so good.” He found my hand and squeezed. “It turns out, you have exceptional skills in the bedroom. Definitely a winner.”
“Good grief. It was one blow job and two hand jobs yesterday. You have no idea what I’m like in bed yet, Doc.”
Dominique wet his lips, mouth quirking. “Will I ever find out?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
Dominique pulled me in for a kiss, and we stayed like that for a long time, pressed against the bookshelves, relishing a languid exchange of mouths and plenty of touching.
The rush of exhilaration simmered, yet there was no end in sight.
The night was young, and as tired as I’d been earlier, I was ready to take the handsome pathologist to bed and act out any role he wanted.
Unfortunately, a lack of supplies prevented us from exploring further that night. Years of celibacy meant Dominique was unprepared for activities of that sort. Regardless, he took me to bed and offered to return the favor. I wasn’t about to say no.
Part of me was curious how many men Dominique had been with in the past. He’d claimed to be married for fifteen years. That put him in his early twenties. How long had he and Angelique dated prior to their marriage? Maybe I was the first. A test run? An experiment? Maybe there had been several men.
Either way, when Dominique took me down his throat and brought me to orgasm, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.