Chapter 4
Remi
The mirror cracked, the shadows swayed,
A storm uncaged in shallow breath.
Hunger took the place of shame;
I drank it down and starved the rest.
I felt the moment Amir let go of his reservations. They evaporated like smoke and flew away on imaginary winds. I’d have to make a sacrifice to Aeolus to thank him for the assist.
He groaned into my mouth as he leaned closer. The grip on my neck tightened, and I felt trapped in the best way. Still, I pushed back against him, testing his control. Instead of fighting me, he grabbed my hip and backed up until he hit the pool table.
I slipped a finger under his hair tie and started to unwrap it. Once it was free, he shook his head to let his hair fall forward, and I caught more of his signature scent that made my body go haywire.
Pulling back, I took him in fully. The dark strands fell to his shoulders, and just like I’d thought, there were waves.
They were sort of beachy, and I could imagine him on a surfboard, shirtless with an ankle bracelet or some shit.
He looked like he belonged in nature, commanding it but also respecting it in the way it deserved.
“You’re the kind of sight that ruins a man’s restraint,” I murmured.
Even his bronze skin couldn’t hide the way he blushed.
Sinking my fingers into his hair, I kissed him hard. He leaned into me, but I shoved him back against the table, and it rattled. I heard one of the balls sink into a pocket and wanted to make a joke about my skills, but I decided the man in front of me deserved my undivided attention.
He put a hand on my chest and slipped the other beneath my shirt. He was shaking, but he wasn’t hesitant as his fingers brushed my abdomen.
“You want to touch me?” I said against his lips.
Letting go of his hair, I unbuttoned my flannel. As soon as it was open, he shoved it off of my shoulders. I let it fall to the floor, then pulled off my t-shirt.
He took me in, his mouth slightly open as he pulled in desperate breaths. Slowly, downright reverently, he ran his fingers along my tattoos—up my arms, over my shoulders, down my chest, across my abdomen. When he traced the one on my neck, nearly to my jaw, I gritted my teeth but didn’t stop him.
He touched the necklace resting against my collarbone, tracing the Fehu rune before he trailed his fingers up the leather cord that held it. Meeting my eyes, he rolled his lips. I didn’t really care what he had to say, so I kissed him again.
He hooked his fingers over the waistband of my jeans, holding me close. “Yeah,” he breathed. “This was the right move.”
His shirt came off, then he was on me again.
Locking my hand around his throat, I angled him backward over the table.
I held him there while my eyes roamed down his body.
The way he was arched made his abs more prominent, and his hip bones protruded deliciously above his jeans.
I popped the button as I stared at his hard dick through the denim.
I started to push his pants down, and he looked toward the window. “Should we do this here?”
“You can’t see anything from the outside,” I said. “Not even a silhouette.”
“Are you sure?”
“Believe me, I don’t want to expose the world to what I’m about to do to you.”
“What if I want to do it to you?”
“Do you?”
His eyes went to the left, then the ceiling.
While he considered it, I pushed his pants down.
He kicked them off, leaving him in only his briefs.
I grabbed him behind the thighs and lifted him enough that he grabbed onto the edge of the table to steady himself.
He pulled himself up the rest of the way so he was sitting on the edge.
On somewhat shaky arms, he leaned back until he was propped on his elbows.
In this position, he was a work of art. I preferred words over the visual type, but as I traced every curve of him and listened to the soft sounds it drew out of him, I reconsidered my position on that.
Standing between his legs, I kissed his collarbone—not delicately, but with the desire to drive him mad with my touch. I held onto his hips and positioned my thumbs in the crease of his thighs. As I trailed open-mouth kisses down his abdomen, he groaned and arched upward.
I reached his dick and used my lips to trace the outline of it through his briefs. His fingers dug into the fabric of the table, and his legs shook as I applied pressure.
“Take these off while I grab lube.” I slapped the side of his bare thigh, which drew a sound from his throat. With a wink, I turned around and jogged into the back office.
It was a good thing everything I owned was in this place.
When I got back, he’d done exactly as I said.
He was on the table, propped up on his elbows with his dick in his hand.
I tossed the bottle beside him, then gripped both of his thighs before I leaned down to take him in my mouth.
He swore and thrust upward, so I relaxed my throat to take all of him and groaned at how full he made me.
“You,” he said.
I met his eyes without pausing. He touched my cheek, then moved to my hair.
When he gripped it hard, tipping my head back, desire surged more fiercely in my veins.
As if he could tell exactly what I wanted, he tightened his hold.
Despite the pressure on my scalp, I took all of him again, and this time, he held me there.
My eyes watered, but I didn’t fight him.
“I want you to do it,” he went on.
My lips curved around him as my lungs burned. A moment later, he released me, allowing me to come up for air. I pulled back, and saliva poured out of my mouth while I caught my breath.
“Me it is,” I said before I kicked off my pants.
Without warning, he pushed my briefs down and went for my dick. His fingers wrapped around it, sending a jolt through me. With a tight grip, he stroked me from base to tip, then back down. His eyes were locked on the motion, and they widened like he was mesmerized.
“Been a while?” I teased.
“Something like that.”
“Mm.” I sank my fingers into his hair and brought him close to my lips. “I want you on your knees, Amir.” He started to scoot forward, but I stepped too close for him to move. “Right here. On the table.”
He sucked in a breath. For a second, he didn’t budge. His eyes were on me, then they moved anywhere else. When he finally turned over, his movements were shaky.
I came out of my lusty haze momentarily. “Are you uncomfortable?”
He shook his head, then looked at me over his shoulder. There was a small smile on his face, almost like a taunt. I brought my palm down on his ass.
“Holy shit,” he gasped. “What was that for?”
I smacked the other cheek, and even though he made a frustrated growl, he pushed his ass backward. Taking that as an invitation, I streamed spit onto his asshole and went straight for it with my finger.
“Remi.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t break you.”
“Swear?”
“Yeah, if that’ll make you feel better.”
“Coming from you, not really.”
“How sad.” I squeezed my finger into his ass, and his face dropped to the table. “Damn, baby, relax. Breathe for me.”
With my other hand, I stroked his skin in languid circles.
Even though he was a little tense, he rocked back against me.
I let him control the movement as he adjusted, slowly taking my finger further.
When I was far enough in, I changed the angle so I could find that sweet spot to help get him going.
A soft keening sound came from his throat. Since he seemed to need more time, I kissed his back while I stuck with the one finger. I sped up my movements, then slowed to a torturous pace, focusing on his prostate before I changed the rhythm again.
“You know, gentle isn’t my typical style,” I said against the small of his back. “But you’re just so lovely, you know?”
“You can do . . .” He took a couple of shaky breaths as I changed the movements again. “Whatever you want to me.”
I paused. “You really shouldn’t tell that to a guy like me.” When I bit his ass cheek, he yelped.
I shed my cautious cloak and wiggled my second finger inside of him. I only went slow until I’d reached the first knuckle, then I sank it the rest of the way. With heat enveloping them both, my dick throbbed.
I pulled my fingers free. “Turn around.”
He did so without argument. On his knees, he looked at me, as if waiting for me to speak again. I used the same two fingers to stroke his jaw, then ran my thumb over his lower lip.
“Keep my dick warm for me while I finger you,” I said.
He stared at my straining dick with dilated eyes, then dropped to his elbows and reached for it. His tongue flicked the tip a couple of times and drew a hum from my lips.
“Try your hardest to make me cum while I stretch your ass, baby.”
I returned my fingers to his hole and sank them in without warning. He grunted, but he didn’t pause as he licked the underside of my shaft. When he took it into his mouth, I squeezed his ass cheek hard enough to make imprints in his skin.
After adding lube, I stretched him with my third finger.
I felt a sound come from his throat more than I heard it.
He’d been going slow, taking only half of me, so I went for his prostate at the same time that I thrust into his throat.
He gagged around me, his fingers digging into the edge of the table.
But he’d said I could do whatever I wanted with him, and from the way he continued to rock against my fingers, I knew he meant it.
“You’re doing so good for me,” I groaned.
As I fucked his throat, I fought against the need to cum.
It wasn’t time for that yet. The best part was the control, the denial of the reward until I had no more power to hold it back.
For me, there wasn’t enjoyment in a brief, carnal urge.
I wanted to master it, to hold it in my palm and make it submit to me.