Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Garrett
Roman, in a jockstrap, is an incredible sight, but Roman, in that thin fabric and my shirt? That is something I want to store in my memory forever.
With his hand in mine, I lead him into the bedroom. The heating is on, the bed made and the side lamp casting a soft glow over the room.
Guiding Roman to the mirror, I lift his hands and place them against the glass.
“Keep them there,” I whisper, then press my lips to the back of his neck, watching as goosebumps break out over his skin. “Eyes on me while I look at you.”
Roman’s eyes lock onto mine in the mirror. His skin is flushed a dusty shade of pink and he’s chewing his bottom lip, his eyes dark, the brown swallowed up by the depth of his desire.
With eager hands, I reach around him and under my open shirt, silently mapping out his figure, running my fingertips over his taut stomach, up to his chest, around his pert nipples and along his neck.
He whimpers when I add my mouth, sucking at his earlobe while my hands explore the planes of his body. His cock is straining against his jock, but I ignore it, murmuring words of praise into his ear as I trail my fingertips along the waistband of the fabric.
“So beautiful,” I say, tracking every miniscule movement on his face – from the twitch of his lips to the way his eyes flutter closed before snapping open again.
“Garrett,” he groans, wiggling, trying to encourage my hands lower. “Please touch me. I need…fuck…please.”
Taking hold of the sides of his jock, I slide it down, his hard cock popping free.
It’s long and slender, cut and with a bead of pre-cum pearling on the tip.
With one hand gripping Roman’s hip tightly, I circle his shaft with the other.
He sucks in a breath, his eyes closing and his head lolling back as his hands slip on the mirror.
“Look at me, sweet thing,” I command, slowly gliding my hand up and down in slow, torturous movements.
The difference between us is striking. His body is hairless, where mine is not. His stomach is flat and smooth, where mine is round and soft. He’s shorter than me by at least half a foot, making my six-foot frame seem huge behind him.
Fuck me, we look unbelievably good together.
Increasing the pressure of my hold on his cock, I twist my hand on each upstroke, delighting in the way he whimpers and thrusts his hips, chasing his release.
He’s panting, his eyes fixed on mine, his mouth parted in a soft o.
“That feel good?”
Roman moans, nodding his head, spreading his legs wider. My own cock presses heavily against the damp fabric of my boxers and I ache to touch myself, or better yet, to feel some part of him against me.
“Wait...” he cries, his chest heaving as he releases his hands from the mirror and brushes his fingers over my wrist. I stop immediately and Roman spins around, wrapping his arms around my neck.
“Everything okay?” I ask, loosening my hold on him.
“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Everything is perfect, but I don’t want to come like that.”
Roman leans forward and rubs his face along the hair on my chest, breathing in the scent of my skin, before licking a stripe across one nipple and then the other. It’s my turn to groan.
“Tell me what you want,” I say, my voice raw as he continues to kiss and nibble at my skin. He plants open-mouthed kisses up my neck until he reaches my ear.
“On the bed,” he demands, guiding me with his hands on my chest until the backs of my knees hit the mattress and I sit on the edge, my feet planted on the hardwood floor.
While in past relationships, I’ve usually been the one to lead in the bedroom, I am not opposed to being the one to submit, just as I wouldn’t be opposed to feeling him inside me if that’s what he wanted. All I desire is to wring every bit of pleasure out of his sinfully gorgeous body.
Roman straddles my waist, much like he did in the hot tub, then slants his lips over mine and thrusts his tongue into my mouth.
His movements are hot and ferocious and I grip the round globes of his ass as he controls the dance of our mouths, kissing and nipping and licking until my head is spinning and my heart racing.
He breaks away, looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes.
“You’re so nice to kiss.”
It seems like such a Roman thing to say. Even if I don’t know him well enough to make that statement, it fits with the man I’ve got to know.
His hands roam my chest, lightly tugging at the hair as his lips brush mine, not stealing another kiss, merely hovering there, sharing the air between us.
It’s all too much and not quite enough – this perfect, beautiful man on my lap, his breath sweet against my lips, his warm hands sending tingles along my skin.
Keeping one hand on his ass, I wriggle the waistband of my boxers down beneath my balls, letting my cock spring free.
Roman looks down between us, licks his lips and then lets a string of saliva fall onto my dick. I groan at the sight, my skin burning up with want.
“Touch us both,” he says, lifting his head and searching out my mouth again.
I do just that, lining our cocks up so they’re flush together and then wrapping my hand around the two of us.
“Fuuuck,” I moan, working us together. His cock is hot and velvety smooth against mine and on each upward stroke he cants his hips, fucking into my fist, our cocks sliding together with ease thanks to the mix of precum and saliva coating us.
“More kisses,” he demands.
Our mouths collide, and he edges closer, trapping my hand and our cocks between us. I move as best I can. The two of us, a dance of gyrating bodies and seeking tongues until he tenses, groaning as he comes.
His seed coats my hand and my chest, and the knowledge that he’s marked me, left his scent on me, has my balls drawing tight and my cock pulsing, my cum mixing with his.
Roman sits back, his eyes drifting from my no doubt bruised lips to my chest. His smile is wide, one side of his lips tipping higher than the other.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he says, his eyes locked onto the mess of cum in the dark hair on my stomach.
“Yeah? You like that, sweet thing?”
“How could I not? You’re hot, and you’re covered in my cum. And,” he tugs at the shirt he’s still wearing, “I smell like you. It’s all very primal and…sexy.” Roman winks and falls to the side, playfully making grabby hands for me to join him on the bed.
I want nothing more, but I get up instead, find a hand towel and wipe us both down before discarding it along with my wet boxers, then climb on top of the rumpled covers with him.
Lying on my side, I bring my face close to his. His eyes are heavy, like he’s satiated and ready to drift off into a cum-drunk and happy sleep.
Roman lifts a hand, running it through my beard before bringing his lips to mine.
This kiss is different from before – it’s slow and sweet, lazy and warm, making my heart feel like it’s flying.
I try to focus only on the physical aspects of the moment and not on the gentle building of genuine feelings towards the guy.
“Hmm, I like this,” Roman says, his hand still languidly stroking my face. “Tomorrow, I’m going to tell you all about my fantasy.”
I chuckle, moving my head back so I can take him in.
I want to touch him, to commit every part of him to memory, so I run a finger over one eyebrow and then the other, before moving my fingertip down his button nose and around his pouty lips.
He tips them into a smile and I match it with one of my own.
“Sounds good,” I reply.
Roman guides my leg over his hip, and I shuffle closer.
“Perfect,” he whispers, and moments later, his soft, gentle snores fill the air.
It’s not even late. We haven’t eaten dinner and I should at least work out some of my finer plot points before calling it a day. But I don’t – instead, I wrap an arm over him, rest my head against his and let my eyes drift shut, cuddling him a little tighter.
I can’t get enough of holding Roman Otley.