Chapter 36 #2
Somewhere along our conversation, Tyler’s song ended and another had started, one I didn’t recognize.
That one also ending, Tennessee Whiskey crooned, the song mingling with the birds chirping in the woods and the frogs starting their nightly chorus.
Emotions I wasn’t familiar with but embraced overcoming my thoughts, I coaxed him to turn and face me.
Tossing my cigarette over the banister, one hand slid across his side, the one on his shoulder reaching for his cheek.
Without prompting, he put his arms around me and we began dancing slowly.
The thunder grew louder, the wind shifting with the scent of rain not far off.
It didn’t seem odd to me, at all, that I was slow dancing with a man on my deck with a storm brewing in.
It didn’t feel weird we were gazing into one another’s eyes, holding closer.
Peace settled over my soul, all the worries about my future smoothing out.
For as long as I could remember, there was always this odd yearning deep in my gut that I was missing out on something, like I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
In his arms, that very moment, it felt like I was home.
Acting before thinking, I swept my mouth over his and claimed a kiss.
He groaned and kissed me back, his hands balling into fists over the back of my shirt.
The first drops of rain fell around us, but we didn’t care.
Our stare never breaking, he walked me backward and pinned me against the railing.
The kiss ending but our lips still together, we were panting, arousal heating both our bodies.
His tongue flicking against my teeth, he nipped my bottom lip and pushed my sweats down.
I groaned, reveling his touch as he gripped my semi erect cock and stroked so goddamn gently. Eager to feel him, as well, I copied his actions, stretching a little lower to cup his balls.
“Dario,” he whispered with another nip.
Why the fuck did I love that so much? Hardly anyone ever called me by my real name, but since our relationship shifted to intimate, he had been doing it more and more, and it was fucking exhilarating.
I’d never had a lover say my name during passionate moments and, again, it was making me wonder what I’d been missing out on.
He closed the couple inches between us and lined our cocks up, curling his fingers around them both like he had that one day. After some snooping around on the internet, I now knew this to be frotting. Frotting, what a fucking amazing thing!
I scattered kisses around his mouth, trailing along his jaw, fully appreciating the softness of his beard against my skin.
Emitting a husky groan, he tipped his head and closed his eyelids against the drizzle.
Traveling lower, I gave a tiny bite here and there, delighted at his erotic reactions.
My hand gliding up his side, careful to not add too much pressure because of his ribs, my thumb stroked over a hard nipple, and he jolted and thrust against me.
Curious, I bent over and swirled my tongue.
“Oh, shit, Dario. Unh.”
He fisted my hair and held me there. A wave of dominance hit, so I spun him around.
Startled, his hands flung to the railing and gripped to steady his balance.
I held on to it, as well, my hands between his and his waist. Slowly grinding up and down, my tongue dragged up the center of his chest, swirled that small dip between his collarbones, over the curve of his Adam’s apple, to the apex of his chin.
My lip curling over my teeth, I nipped, fisting both our cocks.
“You are so fucking amazing, Vinny.”
He gulped, panting harder, a glaze of uncertainty over his irises.
I pushed his pants down and then mine, kicking them aside. Tugging him off the railing, I led him to the lounge I was in moments ago and coaxed him to lie down. Lowering to my knee between his legs, I resumed spraying his body with kisses, pausing to suckle his nipple.
He sucked on his teeth and arched, grabbing my head a second time. “Oh, god, baby.”
Carefully lying down, I licked my fingertips, wet my tip, and eased inside him slowly and deliberately.
Yet another one of his sexy moans had me writhing inside.
Sliding my hands beneath his shoulders to lace my fingers through two slats of wood by his head, I yanked myself forward to thrust deep, filling him completely.
“Unh, fuck.”
I smiled at his reaction and did it again.
“Ah!”
His cock smashed between our stomachs, I took my time making love to him, going out of my way to shower him with affection.
Billy just wanted to own and use him like a toy, he didn’t want to appreciate the man he was.
He expected Vincent to sit in his closet until he was ready to play, and god forbid anyone else show interest. He was a user, a manipulator, a dead man.
I was here. I knew how important he was. I saw Vincent for who he was. Amazing. Sexy. Formidable. Irreplaceable. Mine.
Choking on an inhale at that last thought, I froze, my mouth against his, and gawked into his stare that was darkening with confusion at my sudden shift. Gulping, my heart pattering wildly, I didn’t know how to feel about that inner revelation.
“Dario,” he whispered, cupping my ass cheeks to pull me closer. “Don’t stop, baby.”
I shuddered, the rain picking up and coming down a little thicker. Claiming another heated kiss, I let go of the slat of wood, curled my arms around him, and sped up while still being sensual. I wasn’t fucking him, I was making love to him, worshipping this man.
My man.
Goddamn, when the gayness hits, it hits hard. I was definitely falling in love with Vincent da Silva. What a wonderful change of events.