Chapter 8 #3
I blink at my nickname. It sounds wrong in this bed but at the same time utterly right, like we were always destined to end up here.
But then I blink again and throw the thought away.
Niall Fawcett is naked in front of me asking me to lick him.
It can’t get any better than this. Then my happiness falls away and I realise that it could get worse, and before I can censure my words, I’m letting them spill out.
“I want to, but what if I do something wrong? Thomas used to say how terrible I was in bed, fumbling and awkward and just shit. What if he’s right?”
He lets me speak, which surprises me given the flare in his eyes when I mention Thomas. When I come to a fumbling stop, he amazes me by shrugging. “So what?”
“What do you mean?” I go to draw back and he grabs my hand gently, bringing me back next to him.
“Lo, every single person in this world has been bad in bed at some point.” He smiles and there’s a wry, wicked curl to his smile. “My nanny always used to say that if at first you don’t succeed you should try, try, and try again.”
“Oh my God.” I can’t stop my smile. “That’s outrageous. She probably meant when you embarked on a career in the city, not initiating an awkward man in bed.”
He shrugs, caressing my palm with one long finger, watching me shudder as if I’m fascinating.
“Life lessons should always be about something other than money. They should be about things that you’re going to do for the rest of your life, which I profoundly hope you’re going to do with sex rather than hide away.
” He pulls me close so I’m hovering over his chest, my fingers digging into the hard, ropy muscle over his torso to keep my balance.
“Lo, it’s you and me. You asked me to teach you sex.
Well, the only way to teach something is to do it.
Use me. Experiment on me. See what you like.
See what I like. Lo, listen to me.” My head shoots up from my study of the sparse hair that shadows his chest. His eyes are more serious than I’ve ever seen.
“I will never laugh at you or mock you or demean you. You’re free here in this bedroom and in this bed to do what you want, and I never want you to ever be ashamed of what we do here. ”
I nod, and he smiles before lying back and putting his hands behind his head. He nods down his body. “Explore, Lo.”
Almost tentatively I send my hand out, looking at the paleness of it against his chest. Niall practically glows against the sheets as he has a golden tint to his skin that looks delicious against the white of the linen.
I run my fingers down his chest, following the lines of his ribs and pausing when he jerks.
“Ticklish?” I ask, looking up and stilling at the darkness in his eyes. I swallow hard and his eyes track the motion of my throat.
“Very, and not just there,” he says huskily and I grin at him, feeling suddenly freer than I ever have.
“I’ll find it.”
“I hope you do.” He gives an indrawn breath and his body jerks as I send my fingers back up and brush over the bud of his nipple. The pale brown circle hardens under my eyes and I look up.
“Not ticklish but sensitive here?” He nods and gives a choked cry as I lean forward and run my tongue over it. Then before I can second-guess myself, I pull it into my mouth and start to suckle on it like a baby at the breast, my tongue flitting around the crinkled edge.
He groans and arches his body, forcing his chest against my mouth, and for a second I hesitate.
Sudden movements in bed worry me, but his head is thrown back against the pillow and his eyes are watching me with a slumberous glow to them, and I relax suddenly.
I did that. I put that look on his face, and suddenly I want to do it again and again and hear his pleasure.
My doubts fly away, replaced by a lovely heat which I can feel in the base of my belly.
My own cock throbs heavily, but I ignore it in favour of my new playground.
“I like this,” I say hoarsely, and I can hear the need and joy in my voice.
“I love it.” Then I fall on him and, wrapping one arm around his muscular torso, I fasten my lips to his other nipple, sucking and pinching while he moves underneath me like the waves, thrusting his hips up, his cock wet and slick-looking.
I look at his dick and then back up at him.
The memory of a time when I’d tried to blow Thomas is very vivid as he’d choked me, forcing his cock down my throat and holding my head against him.
He’d laughed when I’d struggled because I couldn’t breathe but he’d stopped laughing when I threw up on him. I breathe deeply to dispel the image.
“I don’t want to suck you off. There’s never been anything enjoyable about that to me,” I say haltingly.
He opens his eyes. “What you want,” he says. “No one else. This is about what you want.” He shrugs. “Maybe you’ll do it, maybe you never will. Doesn’t matter to me. There are plenty of other things we can do.”
“Like what?”
“You can fuck me, for a start.”
“You’d do that?” The incredulity is clear in my voice.
“Of course I would. Lo, taking it up the arse doesn’t mean you’re weak the way that wankhole obviously told you.
” I jerk, and he smiles tenderly at me. “Sex is between the people concerned, their wants and needs, and I want you to fuck me. I need your cock inside me and I want to see you come.” He shudders. “I want to feel it.”
I sit up, squeezing my cock at the base to stop myself going off at just his words. His eyes follow my gesture and darken with need. “I want that,” I say breathlessly. “I want that too.”
He lies back and spreads his legs deliberately, giving me a clear view of his balls drawn tight to his body, and below, the dark line of his taint and the small hole. “Supplies are in the bedside table,” he says.
I rush to get them, almost fumbling them, and look back expecting him to be smiling, but he isn’t. Instead he’s watching me, or more particularly he’s looking at my bare arse high in the air while I look through the drawer, and he’s jerking himself slowly.
“Like what you see?” I ask, breathlessly falling back onto the bed next to him, and he grins ferally.
“I love it,” he says. “I want you, Lo.”
“Okay, bear with me. I know the logistics,” I say, squeezing the lube out in a glistening trail over my fingers and rubbing them together to warm it. “But I might need to ask questions.”
“You can ask anything,” he says hoarsely, his eyes on my hand as I lower it between his legs. “As long as you get one of those fingers in … ah!”
He arches up off the bed as I send one lubed finger sliding around his hole. For a split second I tense as if I’ve hurt him, but my body knows what to do and ignoring my mind I move, rubbing the finger gently over the small, tight opening before pushing the tip of it gently inside him.
“Oh fuck,” he chokes out as I slide it into him, feeling the heat of his passage and the tight, snug fit of him.
I imagine that around my dick and have to count to five not to come.
I listen to the pants of his breaths and then watch in amazement as I rub across the harder spot inside him and he arches up with a shout coming from him that could wake the dead.
I rub it again. It’s like a magic button, I think wonderingly as he sinks back to the bed, and wonder how I spent two years with Thomas and he never found it.
His voice thankfully drags me away from my ex. “Please, Lo,” he groans. “Another finger, please.”
Unexpectedly a surge of power fills me. I did this to him. Me. Boring old Milo Ramsay is making Niall writhe on the bed like he’s had an electric shock. Boring old Milo Ramsay has his fingers inside Niall’s body and pretty soon he’ll have his cock in there too.
The thought galvanises me and I add another digit, stretching my fingers and scissoring them and feeling his passage open.
“I won’t rush this,” I tell him, hearing the breathlessness.
“I know how much it bloody hurts when it’s not done properly.
” I think of the tearing and wince. I won’t do that to Niall.
I still as his hand comes down over my hand at his passage, and when I look up, he’s staring at me tenderly. “Thank you,” he says gently.
I nod awkwardly, giving him a harried smile before pumping more lube over my fingers and adding a third digit. He tenses for a second and I rub my free hand down his long flank, feeling the hardness of the muscle and almost petting him.
He raises his head, his lips wet and his eyes dark. “Now. Fuck me now.”
I stare at him, unable to believe that the time has come, but then break into action. The next few seconds are full of frantic fumbling as I manage to get the condom on and I only come back to myself when I’m kneeling and have my cock at the opening of his body.
I hesitate, and he looks at me. “Do it.”
So I do. Notching my cock into the opening I push, fumbling for a second as I come up against the tight muscle that guards his passage, but I remember to wait until it relaxes and then it’s a long, slow slide into tight, damp heaven as his passage sits snugly round my cock, gripping it tightly and making my eyes cross.
I bottom out with a deep moan and rest for a second, the two of us panting until his legs come up round me and I feel his feet at my arse.
“Move, Milo,” he says through gritted teeth. “Move and fuck me. I need it.”
Now all thoughts go, and the only thing left is the instinct to please him.
For the next few embarrassingly short minutes my only thoughts are snapshot impressions.
The heat around my cock, the feel of his hard body against mine, the sweat from his hair landing on my hot skin and seeming to sizzle there like water in a frying pan.
I can hear his pants and groans in my ear and the accompaniment of my own moans and sighs over the slap of flesh meeting flesh and the meaty thwap as my balls bang into his arse, making pain and pleasure sizzle together.
It takes only a few minutes before I despairingly feel the tingle in my balls as they pull tight. “Oh shit, I’m close,” I say.
“Fuck me hard,” he groans, reaching down and fisting his cock.
I dig my heels into the mattress and force myself into him harder than I’d ever imagined me doing, but he shouts out, tunnelling his head into the pillow behind him with his eyes screwed shut.
“Lo,” he shouts out, and I knock his hand away from his cock, taking it in my grip and trying to coordinate my thrusts with jerking him off. It’s hard to coordinate, like rubbing your head and your belly at the same time, but it has the effect on Niall of almost cattle-prodding him.
“Oh shit!” he shouts out and pumps his cock into my fist. “Milo!” Then he arches and goes rigid and I watch in awed amazement as creamy ropes of come spurt out from the slit, flooding my fingers and dribbling out onto his hard stomach.
His release catapults mine and I give two more battering thrusts, savouring the almost painful grip of his passage on my cock, and then cry out.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck, Niall.” I jerk and come and jerk and come hard enough I have a second to worry that I’ll overflow the condom, but eventually I come to a stop and fold into him, feeling the wet hardness of his body and the tight grip of his arms around me.
“Oh God,” I say slowly, feeling like my tongue has swollen.
“Hmm,” he says in a contented voice, his arms tightening to stop me moving. “Not for a second,” he chides.
“Are you a cuddler ?” I ask in an amazed voice.
“No shame in this bed,” he says darkly and pauses. “Don’t tell anyone, though.”
I sink into his embrace, inhaling the acrid scent of sex and sweat happily. I did that , I think, feeling one hundred feet tall. I made us come . Then I stiffen. “Sorry it didn’t take long,” I whisper, feeling heat on my cheekbones.
“It was just right,” he mumbles. “Not tortoise slow and not hare fast.” I laugh and his grip tightens. “It was perfect,” he says slowly. “Absolutely perfect.”
There’s a weight to his voice I can’t work out. “ Really ?”
I feel his nod against the side of my face. “Absolutely perfect.”
I take his words in and let them settle inside me and ease the sting of a cut I didn’t know was still there.
“Perfect,” I echo and snuggle closer.