21. Chris #4
“Mm-hmm. It was super hard to explain when I went fancy dress shopping at Halloween.”
Chris smiled and kissed him. He let his hands wander, and this time, finally, there was nothing to stop him, no interruption as he explored Isaiah’s body with his hands and then his tongue.
He kissed down his chest and nipped at the pink nipples until they were hard pebbles and Isaiah was gasping wantonly, arching into him.
He licked the Latin on his ribs and then walked him backward slowly until he was sitting on the edge of the four-poster bed, framed between the heavy velvet curtains.
Chris took a moment to marvel at his beauty, because that’s what he was—beautiful.
And so fucking smart. And so passionate.
Chris had never been much of a poet, but he could wax lyrical about Isaiah Owens for days on end without running out of things to say.
Time lost all meaning. Chris assumed the reception must be winding down by now but no sound penetrated this side of the manor, the guest wing was well-insulated from the noise outside.
He pushed Isaiah’s shirt off his shoulders and unfastened the short garters around his thighs slowly, letting himself savour the feel of the soft skin beneath his fingertips.
Then he lowered himself to the ground as though worshipping the man before him.
He pulled the jock down in one swift movement that drew a gasp from Isaiah, who had been nearly still and silent, as if he was holding his breath as he let Chris touch him and kiss down his body.
“Green,” Isaiah said. It sounded almost reverent in a way Chris had never expected to hear falling from those lips.
“Owens,” Chris replied teasingly. Their eyes met and Chris held the eye contact, watching the storm behind those bright blues as he leaned in and sucked the head of Isaiah’s cock into his mouth.
He groaned at the salty taste of precum that hit his tongue and licked at the slit, desperate to coax more out of him.
Isaiah moaned and it reverberated through his whole body. Chris gripped his slender thighs as he took him in deeper, swallowing around him as he swirled his tongue, using every skill he had to make Isaiah fall apart.
He spluttered as he took him a bit too far, tears burning his eyes as he held him there, willing his throat to open, but his gag reflex had other ideas.
“Sorry,” he gasped, popping off and breathing heavily. “I’m a little out of practice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s been… Well…fuck, since the Olympic Village.”
Isaiah winced. “You don’t have to deep-throat to impress me, Chris. But if it makes you feel any better, it’s been a while for me too.”
Chris rocked back on his heels and arched a brow at Isaiah.
“I’ve been busy, and I only do solo stuff on my channel. Plus, after Ollie…”
“The ex?” Chris asked.
“Ugh. Yes. Last thing I want to talk about.” Isaiah groaned. “But for the record, he gave terrible head, none of that tongue skill you’ve got going for you.”
Chris laughed. “So glad I can clear that obviously low bar.”
“Come up here.” Isaiah gestured to the spot on the bed next to him.
Chris rose and sat next to Isaiah, and they were drawn together like magnets, tongues clashing and hands reaching for every bit of bare skin they could grasp.
Isaiah magicked a bottle of lube from somewhere, pressing it into Chris’s hand, and Chris wasted no time or words.
He popped the top, drizzling it onto his fingers as Isaiah lay back on the bed.
Chris nestled himself between his thighs, lifting his legs onto his shoulders and stroking his rim with his fingertips.
“Fuck, Green,” Isaiah moaned. “You can’t tease me like this.”
Chris pressed one finger in slowly, ignoring Isaiah’s pleas for more.
He felt him relax and slid another finger in alongside.
His own cock ached, hanging heavy and ignored as he prepped Isaiah, part of him still nervous that he wouldn’t be up to scratch.
That Isaiah would be disappointed after all this build-up.
He slid another finger in.
“I’m so fucking ready for you, Chris,” Isaiah moaned. “Please.”
Chris took a steadying breath and grabbed for the condoms he’d left on the nightstand in hope of this exact scenario. His hand shook as he opened the packet.
“Hey.” Isaiah gripped his hand, locking eyes with him. “I want you, Chris. Not the client, not the athlete, or the news story. Just you. All of you.”
Somehow that steadied him and gave him the confidence that had flown out the window the second he’d got Isaiah on the bed beneath him.
He held his cock steady and pressed against Isaiah’s hole.
The pressure as the muscle gave way and let him in was everything.
Better than breaking the tape after hours on the road, better than any podium or accolade he could imagine.
He nearly collapsed onto Isaiah. His arms shook with the effort of holding himself back when everything in hm wanted to slam forward, but Isaiah just grunted and wrapped his legs around Chris’s back, using them to pull him in further.
He bottomed out and gripped Isaiah’s hips hard, steadying himself as they breathed together for a moment.
“Move, Green,” Isaiah grunted. “You won’t break me.”
Chris pulled back and snapped his hips, burying himself in the tight heat. Each thrust earned a soft whine that spurred him onward.
Isaiah got a hand on his own cock and started stroking it in time with Chris’s desperate thrusts.
He batted the hand away, a surge of possessiveness roaring up inside him.
He wanted to be the one to tip Isaiah over the edge, only him.
He spat in his hand and stroked Isaiah, unblinking as he watched his eyes glaze over in pleasure.
The soft gasp he let out as his eyes fluttered shut made Chris lose the last remnants of control he’d been hanging on to, and he thrust erratically until he came with a shout.
Isaiah groaned as Chris slid out of him.
Chris shimmied down quickly, wasting no time before he swallowed Isaiah’s cock down again.
Isaiah’s muscles trembled as Chris pushed his fingers inside him.
He gripped Chris’s hair hard as he brought him over the edge.
Chris drank down every last drop of his release, savouring it as though it were an ambrosia he couldn’t get enough of.
Breathing still harsh, Chris crawled up next to Isaiah and draped his arm across his abdomen, both of them coated in a sheen of sweat. They lay together, spent and sticky on the ridiculously luxurious sheets.
“That is going to be a seriously hot video.” Isaiah grinned at Chris before he pushed himself up and stumbled out of bed to turn off the recording and grab a washcloth from the en suite, also green.
Chris had forgotten about the recording. The wave of nerves he’d half expected didn’t come. Instead, his cock gave a valiant twitch at the thought of watching it back later.
“We can watch it tomorrow,” Chris said as he trailed the offered cloth over Isaiah’s abs, lingering too long. “That is, if you stay the night.”
“You think anyone will notice if I don’t sleep in my bed?” Isaiah asked as he snuggled into Chris’s chest.
“Does it matter?”
“No,” he said lazily as his breathing evened out. “It doesn’t matter at all.”