20. Chapter 20
Henrik
M al groans, his hips moving restlessly under me, and my chest sings. The way he so eagerly responds to my touch is a heady aphrodisiac.
I lave my tongue up the length of his erection, playing with his crown, flicking the slit. Mal curses, so I do it again and again before pulling back.
“Turn over,” I tell him, backing up enough to give him room to maneuver. Mal doesn’t question me; he simply rolls onto his stomach, rustling the sheets below him. I take a moment to divest myself of my clothes, and then I slide my hands up his legs, finding his ass hitched high in the air.
“You adore my ass,” he says simply.
“Yes,” I readily confess, mapping the taut globes with my hands. The way they swell out slightly from his hips, round and just firm enough, but not without give. I dig my fingers into the flesh, imagining the way the cheeks would indent around the digits, blanching and then blooming red.
“I like that you adore my ass,” he replies, jumping a little when I lean close and scrape my barely there stubble against his skin. “ God .”
I kiss the spot I abraded, admitting, “I want to fuck you.”
It’s been weeks since that first time, and I haven’t gone there again. Maybe I thought it would help me maintain some distance from my tempting houseguest. Maybe I was afraid of how good it would feel.
Maybe— definitely —I’m past caring.
“Yes, fuck me,” Mal responds instantly, hips wiggling.
I chuckle, slipping away to grab the lube and a condom.
When I return, Mal is in the same position I left him.
I allow myself a few strokes of my own erection, biting my lip against the pleasure, before I drizzle lube onto my fingers.
Kneeling abreast Mal’s hip, I roam my hand along his back as the other slides over his pucker, massaging the flesh.
Mal shifts slightly, resituating himself, and I ease a slicked finger in, my palm resting above his asshole.
“Fuck, yes,” Mal says, pressing back against me. “More.”
I oblige, circling my finger around before retreating and sliding two in side by side, curling the digits and rubbing his inner walls.
Loosening him. Imagining what it will feel like when he’s caressing my dick instead of my fingers.
I let my other hand trail over his back and into his hair, the tresses unbound and falling over the pillow and his face.
I brush them aside, running my fingers through the strands.
Mal reaches back, his hand connecting with my thigh.
He digs in, turning his face into the pillow as I press another finger in alongside the others.
He’s tight and warm, and he bears down against me, sucking my digits in with ease.
I groan, my impatience to get inside that snug heat getting the better of me.
Mal slaps my thigh impatiently. “Go on,” he says, as if he can hear my internal thoughts.
I pull my fingers free and skirt behind him, wrapping my dick and adding more lube before I position myself, notching against Mal’s entrance like we’re two pieces of a puzzle, waiting to be snapped together.
“ Hen ,” Mal groans. “What are you waiting for?”
What am I waiting for?
When I finally sink into Mal’s body, he punches out a sigh, driving back until his ass cheeks are flush against my crotch.
I grab on tight, fingers spanning his hips, as I roll against him again and again.
I can all-too-clearly picture the way my cock would look disappearing between his cheeks, and I slide one of my hands to his entrance, feeling how he welcomes me in.
How much he’s stretched to accommodate me.
“ Fuck ,” I hiss.
“This is so much better than porn,” Mal moans.
I concur. Not that I’ve watched porn in quite some time, but a real body has nothing on fiction. You can’t touch a video. Can’t taste.
And fuck, do I want to taste.
I slip out of Mal’s body despite his protesting whine. “Turn over,” I tell him.
“I feel like a record,” he mumbles, his leg hair brushing against mine as he rolls onto his back. I chuckle.
You can’t laugh with a video, either.
I ready myself against Mal’s body again, but he touches my wrist. “Wait, you turn over. On your back.”
I raise an eyebrow, but considering Mal so rarely asks for anything, I readily oblige, trading places and lying flat on the bed. Mal straddles me, his legs snug against my hips, and then he sinks down, taking me inside his body in one fluid motion.
We both groan, and Mal starts to ride me. Fuck , it’s so good, but I wanted…
“Come here,” I tell him, reaching.
Mal grabs my hand, leaning forward as he slides it to the side of his head, and then he’s kissing me like I wanted.
I tighten my grip in his hair— God, I love all that hair —and do my best to map the inside of Mal’s mouth.
He tastes like lemon and smells like coconut, and I can’t get enough.
Even the underlying hint of wet cat hanging on one or both of our bodies doesn’t do a damn thing to detract from the lust coursing through me as Mal’s body dances over mine.
As he uses me the way he pleases. As he moans into my mouth, grinding over me again and again.
As he spills, sudden and sharp, between our bodies, gasping in obvious surprise and squeezing me so damn tight I see stars. I punch up into his body, seeking my own release, but Mal has other plans. He lifts himself swiftly, shucking off my condom and stroking me with a firm grip.
“Come all over my face,” he says, the simple words and his fervent motions sending me over the edge in an instant.
I swell in his fist, and Mal pumps me through it, working every last aftershock from my body until I’m wrung dry, only softening his grip once I’ve spent. Then he grabs my hand, places my palm against his cheek, and rubs my seed into his skin.
Groaning, positive I’ve died and gone to Heaven, I continue the work Mal started, letting my fingers drift over his face, finding my release and dragging it across his cheekbones, over his chin, along his lips. Marking him. Making him mine.
“ Fuck ,” I breathe out at last, leaving my thumb pressed against Mal’s plump lower lip.
“Had a feeling you’d like that, you barbarian,” he says, almost fondly.
I chuckle, my eyes closing as my body goes lax. “You’ve no idea.”
Mal tugs my hand down, keeping it in his as he leans forward and kisses me softly, gently, my taste on his lips.
My eyes flutter open, and for the briefest of moments, it’s like I can see him suspended above me.
An angel of riotous golden hair, blue eyes deep like the ocean.
The bow of his lips. The planes of his face. The flush on his cheeks.
For a moment, my imagination brings him to life.
But the truth is that it doesn’t matter to me what Mal looks like. Curiosity aside, it never has.
What matters is the way he’s cupping my face like I’m precious to him. The way his mouth ghosts over mine once more, whisper soft, the intimacy of it profound in the wake of our coupling. The way he pours his emotions into the air between us, crackling like electricity, so close I can touch.
What matters is the way my heart ga-thumps when he sighs, a hair’s breadth away from my lips.
How I know, somehow, against all reason and despite the unfathomable odds, I’ve fallen for a man who was never destined to stay mine.
Who wandered into my life under the strangest of circumstances, through pure happenstance, and who has yet to leave.
And I don’t want him to leave. Six months doesn’t sound like nearly enough time. And when’s the last time I thought that? Never.
But how could this possibly work? Our relationship is based on a business transaction. There’s every chance that, to Mal, that’s all this is. That’s all this could ever be.
Do I ask him now and risk breaking off our arrangement? Or do I wait, keeping him for longer and yet risking much more than my bank account?
Mal sits up before I’ve finished contemplating my conundrum, his body leaving mine as my mind continues to race. He sighs again, sounding as if he’s stretching.
I call back my thoughts and rub against the long expanse of his naked back. “Everything all right? Are you sore?”
He huffs a laugh. “No, I’m good. Definitely need a shower, though.”
I nod my assent, wondering if I should ask him to join me in my en suite. But Mal stands up before I have a chance, displacing my wandering fingers.
“And don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll make sure the cats didn’t make a mess, and I’ll keep them in the guest room tonight.”
“Mal,” I say before he’s reached the door, grasping for something to keep him with me for longer.
“They can stay here for a while. The cats, I mean. Uh…” I scratch the side of my head.
“They’d probably be more comfortable, right?
In a home, instead of at the shelter. At least until we can make sure they’re healthy. ”
Mal is quiet for a couple seconds. “Are you sure?” he asks softly, coming closer to the bed.
I barely manage to keep myself from reaching for him. “Why not? It’s no trouble.”
Mal’s weight leans against the mattress, and then his hand brushes my cheek lightly. “Thank you, Henrik,” he says, his lips greeting mine softly once again. I chase after him, wanting more, but Mal pulls back. “Night.”
“Night,” I reply a little numbly.
As Mal leaves my room, closing the door behind him, I know I’ve broken my own code. I’ve done the one thing I promised myself I would never do.
I let someone in.
And now that it’s done, I fear there’s no turning back.
“Come on, Little Gray. Hold still.”
I chuckle. “Little Gray?”
“I didn’t know what else to call it, and since it has gray fur, it’s Little Gray,” Mal explains.
It’s a rarity for Mal to be awake this early, before I’ve left for work, but with the cats causing a ruckus in his room, he was up at the crack of dawn, same as me.
“And the other one?” I ask, smiling into my morning cup of tea.
“The other one has black fur.”
“You should give them real names,” I point out.
Mal makes an “mm” sound. “I don’t want to get attached.”
I’m tempted to tell him we can just keep the cats. They’re so small, and even though they have a lot of energy, they don’t seem to be destructive. So long as we keep plenty of toys around, I’m sure it wouldn’t be an issue.
But then I realize where my mind has gone, assuming Mal and the cats would stay here with me. I shake off my thoughts, not ready to get my hopes up.
“Boy,” Mal finally declares. Little Gray scampers away as soon as Mal sets him down, and I hand over the black one, who’d been lounging across my arm without a care in the world. It doesn’t seem to put up as much of a struggle, seeing as five seconds later, Mal says, “Another boy.”
“At least they can’t make more kittens.”
Mal chuckles, and my phone dings, alerting me of the time. I finish my tea, place my empty mug in the dishwasher, and wash my hands.
“Time to go?” Mal asks.
I nod, wishing I didn’t have to leave him today. How quickly the tide has turned . At least tomorrow is Saturday.
“Shit,” I say in surprise, “I forgot to tell you about the benefit.”
“Benefit?”
“Yes,” I reply with a groan. Not because I don’t want to go—I always look forward to this event—but because I haven’t given Mal any notice.
“It’s tomorrow night. My company presents this year’s best and brightest from our incubators, matching investors with up-and-coming business ventures. Win-win all around.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing. “Did you just say ‘incubators?’ Like for chickens?”
I chuckle, finding Mal on a stool at the island and stepping in close. He places his hands loosely on my hips, and I reach up, feeling the smile at the corner of his mouth. “No, not for chickens. We have several business incubators scattered across the city. They provide resources for startups.”
“Oh,” he says. “So a little less like a banker.”
I chuckle again, leaning close to kiss Mal in a way that has nothing to do with sex. He doesn’t seem to mind, kissing me back just as sweetly.
When I draw back, I ask, “Will you come with me?”
“To the benefit?” he asks, voice going a little high.
“Of course.”
Mal’s fingers flex against my hips.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, stomach sinking. Maybe Mal doesn’t want to be seen with me. Although, as an escort, isn’t that part of the job?
I banish the word job from my mind immediately, hating the sound of it.
“Aren’t you worried someone might recognize me?” he asks.
I startle, realizing I hadn’t even contemplated that. I’ve never brought one of my companions to an event before. Never wanted to before now. “Because of your job?”
How likely would it be that a previous escort client would be at the benefit?
“Well, yeah. It’s not like I’m a fan favorite, not like Silver,” he says. I have no clue who he’s talking about, but he goes on. “But sometimes people recognize me.”
I think it over for a moment, but in the end, I shrug. Anyone who had hired Mal as an escort would be discreet about their dealings. Even if we do come across a prior client, I don’t see it being an issue. Outing me would be outing themselves.
“It’s fine. I can’t imagine it would cause a problem.”
“If you’re sure,” he says slowly, seeming concerned.
“I’m sure,” I say, squeezing the back of his neck.
“Okay,” Mal says, leaning forward. I read his intent and meet him in the middle, our lips brushing once more.
Now that the seal has broken, it’s like we can’t stop.
I want to attach my lips to Mal, to produce more and more of those addictive, breathy little moans that decorate the air between us every time my mouth is linked with his.
Rather reluctantly, I let the back of Mal’s head go. “I really do have to leave,” I say, stepping back. “Have a good day with the cats.”
Mal huffs a laugh. “Have a good day at work, honey.”
His tone is clearly teasing, but I don’t hate it. In fact, I like the sound of that honey more than I should. It makes me feel warm and cozy, and even as I head off to work, the phantom of Mal’s words stay with me like a physical touch.
I can’t deny it anymore. I’ve developed feelings for my escort. Real feelings.
I’m officially fucked.