Chapter Nine #2
Jules hadn’t hesitated to hop on the Harley after lunch and ride to Elouan’s apartment. He stood inside the front door, taking in the worn couch and chairs, oversized television, and battered coffee table, smiling like he’d entered a scene from House Beautiful.
“Nice place!”
“It’s been home for three years.” Thank the Goddess that Elouan cleaned before going to meet Jules.
One strand of hair pulled on Elouan’s scalp. He released his braid, working his fingers through the strands to loosen them. There. Better.
“Wow! You’ve got your hair down.” Jules reached out, then pulled his hand back. “Sorry. It looks so soft and you’ve always had it braided before.”
Jules could play with Elouan’s hair all he wanted, along with any other body part of his choosing.
“Most of this stuff belongs to my roommate, Curtis,” Elouan said when the silence grew awkward.
Except for the controllers on the coffee table and a lone coffee cup on the counter, the place was spotless—as long as one avoided Elouan’s room.
“Make yourself at home. Any particular movie you want to watch?”
“Except for a few at school, I haven’t seen many. You pick.” Jules sat ramrod straight on the edge of the couch, posture stiff. Oh, no. Being on guard wouldn’t do. Somehow, Elouan must set him at ease.
Elouan wandered casually into the kitchen area. “Want a beer?”
“Can I get a soda instead?” Jules wrinkled his nose, a gesture too endearing for words. Elouan wished he’d taken a picture. “I’ve never drunk beer before. It always smelled funny to me.”
“Sure thing.” Elouan put his own beer back into the refrigerator, pulling out two root beers instead. “What do you like? Action? Comedy? Drama?”
Jules relaxed the stiff set of his shoulders. “Got anything with dragons?” Dragons? He liked dragons?
Elouan snorted and couldn’t help a bit of smugness at being a dragon if Jules liked them.
“Game of Thrones, it is. I’m warning you, it’s got a cast of thousands and is bloody as hell.
If you start liking a character, they’ll get killed off in the next episode, so try not to get too invested.
” But if Jules liked the plot, he might want to come back and watch more, which could take weeks.
Maybe Curtis might even grow to like Jules if he became a fixture, and he saw how great Jules really was.
Then again, maybe Elouan should choose something a little more conducive to a date.
Too late now. He’d promised the extremely long bloodbath of Game of Thrones.
“Oh, I’ve read the books!” Jules said, fixing his gaze on the TV. “I’m told the series is a lot different, though.”
Elouan sat beside Jules on the couch, handing over a root beer.
It took him a moment to find the show since he wasn’t as familiar with the remote as Curtis.
He usually mentioned when he wanted to watch something and let his roommate handle the details, since the remote never strayed far from Curtis’s hand.
“There’s a lot of people, and it’s hard to keep track of them sometimes.
If you get lost, let me know, and I’ll try to explain, or we can rewatch a scene.
I had to watch a few episodes several times before I managed to keep track of who’s who.
” No explaining the laughable interpretations of dragons, but still.
Elouan settled in with his arm across the back of the couch, insides warming when Jules nestled under his outstretched arm.
He fought the urge to pull Jules closer, to sniff his hair. Nope, no dragon behavior around humans.
The opening played with the cool music and graphics. Elouan hummed along under his breath. Jules turned, his light gaze meeting Elouan’s. For a moment, they remained still, so much going on in those blue eyes.
By some unspoken agreement, they each moved, Jules meeting Elouan in an open-mouthed kiss.
Elouan eased Jules onto his back, settling between lean thighs. Keeping his weight on his arms to avoid crushing him, Elouan explored Jules’s mouth, slowly, thoroughly, gently rutting against the firm erection in Jules’s jeans.
Jules learned quickly, his kisses far more practiced than the day at the lake. Elouan longed to take him to bed, lick every inch of him, mount him, sink fangs into his neck….
What? No. Elouan couldn’t subject sweet Jules to a rough-and-tumble dragon mating. Why would he even think such a thing? Maybe he’d been too long without a dragon lover he could be rough with. But along with the urge to claim and possess, Elouan also wanted to nurture and protect.
His dragon purred in agreement, giving the dragon sentiment of Can we keep him?
Why? Why would his dragon feel protective over a human? Because the human half of their shared existence did?
“Is this okay?” he asked, running his hand under Jules’s T-shirt.
Jules gulped, nodding as he did so. Fear and excitement shone in his eyes. His body gave a slight tremble.
“Tell me to stop if you want me to.” Elouan would do his damnedest to obey, even if every instinct screamed at him to take this man, claim him, mark him.
Both the dragon and human parts of Elouan agreed.
He peeled Jules’s shirt over his head, then ran his lips from Jules’s ear to his shoulder, peppering kisses along the exposed skin.
Jules gasped, tilting his head to give Elouan more skin to adore. So, he liked the caressing, did he? What would he taste like to Elouan’s dragon tongue?
His dragon desperately wanted to know.
Elouan slowly increased the pressure, going from merely caressing to open-mouth kisses, then slight nips on Jules’s neck. Gooseflesh formed on Jules’s arms. He moaned, bucking his hips to press his jeans-covered length more firmly against Elouan’s.
How good this felt. Every ounce of Elouan’s being screamed for him to bury himself in Jules’s sweet body, but another part of him reveled in what they were doing.
Would he be the first to suck that hard cock, burying himself between the firm mounds of Jules’s ass? The mere thought of Jules beneath him nearly made Elouan ready to explode in his jeans.
Or better yet. Jules riding him.
No rushing, no matter how much Elouan wanted to, he wouldn’t risk making the experience less than perfect, for he truly thought this would be Jules’s first time.
First or one hundred and first, Elouan did all in his power to please a lover.
However, a first lover was a tremendous responsibility, for every sexual encounter afterward could either be enhanced or diminished based on the occasion.
Elouan’s first time hadn’t been special, just another alpha wanting to get off. There hadn’t even been any kissing, just fumbling, rutting, and exchange of sweat and other fluids, then an emptiness inside when the guy simply walked away.
Jules deserved better. When he lay in bed late at night, Elouan wanted him to imagine Elouan’s face, or his body, reliving the experience, comparing all future encounters with this.
Voices murmured in the background, carrying out scenes from the movie. There might’ve even been a scream. Elouan didn’t know or care what happened in Westeros. Not with his arms full of a willing, beautiful man.
“Can we take this to the bedroom?” Jules asked. “I’m afraid I’m going to slide off the couch.” His heart thudded loudly in Elouan’s ears.
Yes! Walking might be a problem with a hard dick, but Elouan tossed Jules over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, dashed upstairs to his bedroom, and bounced Jules on the bed.
Jules laughed a moment before his face grew serious.
He lay back with his knees spread, lower legs hanging over the edge of the mattress.
Elouan stepped between, slowly sinking to his knees.
An impressively hard cock pressed against Jules’s zipper.
Elouan mouthed the length through the fabric, breathing in the heady scent.
He gazed upward, noting the glazed look in Jules’s eyes. “May I?” Please say yes! Please! Please! Please!
Jules nodded, eyes wide.
Yes! Elouan undid Jules’s jeans, then slid them down far enough to gain access to what he wanted.
Next, he pulled down the elastic of Jules’s underwear, exposing golden curls and a flushed pink cock, the tip of the purple head peeking out of the foreskin.
What a gorgeous cock, about six inches, perfectly formed.
Elouan caught the pearly drop of fluid at the tip, then brought his finger to his mouth. He closed his eyes in bliss at the first taste.
He gently skimmed back the foreskin with his thumb and forefinger, licking the head.