Chapter 27
Sam had agreed to come home with him. Ian was happy about that, yeah, but also completely freaked out. Something had changed in the cab of his pickup, and he had an idea it might be the balance of power, which he really didn’t want to think about.
Just go with the flow. It’s a learning experience. You’re learning about emotional connectedness.
That night he learned a lot about Sam. He learned that a blowjob made Sam’s toes curl and his hips lift off the bed. When he reached for a condom, Sam breathlessly said, “Wait.”
“Wha’?” Ian had thought all systems were go. He was sure as hell getting a green light from Sam’s body.
Sam rolled onto his side and pushed on Ian’s chest until he fell onto his back on the bed, while Ian mostly tried to hide that his chest was heaving. Sam looked at him seriously
Holy fuck, were they going to talk? Now? Ian just managed not to groan.
Sam took a deep breath. “Can we do it standing up?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve never been with anyone tall enough,” Sam said, not quite looking at Ian. He lay on his side, one hand pillowing his head, nervously running fingers up and down Ian’s arm.
The thought of Sam up against the wall, his pale skin and long, bony back and that tight little ass tensed up and waiting for him—that was pretty damned appealing. Ian cleared his throat. “You want to try it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Sam whispered, running his hand up to Ian’s shoulder and stroking the muscle there. Finally he raised his gaze, too, meeting Ian’s.
He couldn’t help but kiss Sam. Not because his blood was pounding inside him—and it was—but because Sam was just . . . Sam. “Go stand next to the closet, facing the wall.”
Sam immediately did what Ian told him, palms pressing into the wall, hips tilting back and butt muscles tensing up. He looked like prey—trying so hard to hold still he was nearly quivering with it.
Ian took his time, rolling on a condom and dropping the lube on the nearby nightstand, watching Sam shiver. He took two steps forward, nearly touching Sam’s back, then slowly ran his fingers over Sam’s skin to feel the bones underneath. He explored each vertebra while Sam tensed under his hands.
The balance of power had shifted back to him.
Maybe. Does it matter? Maybe.
When he reached between Sam’s legs, intending to tease behind his balls, he found a surprise.
Ian explored with his fingers, taking a second to figure it out, watching all the muscles in Sam’s neck and shoulders clench up as he gently flicked the ring hanging there.
“What’s this?” he whispered, then kissed Sam’s neck below his ear.
He tugged gently on the new body jewelry.
Sam gasped. “I got rid of the barbell and put a ring in.”
“For me?” Ian asked, his breath tripping over itself.
“Yeah,” Sam whispered. “Kinda.”
Good enough. He stopped teasing and started lubing Sam up and easing him open, trying not to go too fast, leaving the ring alone for now.
By the time he finally pressed his cock against Sam’s asshole, pushing in a fraction of an inch, they were both sweating.
Breathing in unison, fast gulps of air. Ian planted his hands on the wall next to Sam’s, caging him in.
Sam moaned softly and tilted his hips further out, so Ian took advantage of the offer, fighting Sam’s muscles to slide in farther, until he hit that magical point where they stopped trying to force his dick out and sucked him in instead.
He held still, all the way in, feeling Sam’s butt muscles tense against his pelvis, body hair meshing, until Sam began to shake. Then Ian started the long, slow process of fucking him into the wall.
He learned more about Sam then. He learned Sam’s balls were sensitive as hell, and the new guiche ring was maybe a little more tender than Ian had expected—he might have pushed it a bit at first. He learned that if he fucked Sam with long, quick strokes and then suddenly shoved himself all the way in and held there, Sam would turn into a trembling, squirming mess, begging Ian for more.
He had one arm across Sam’s chest, fingers toying with a hard nipple, and one hand between his legs, gently caressing Sam’s sac.
His wrist rubbed accidentally against Sam’s dick.
“Don’t move,” he barked when Sam tried to take a hand off the wall.
Sam let out a moaning sob, squirming more.
Ian took his hand off Sam’s chest and slapped his hip, hard.
“I said don’t move,” he growled. He felt Sam’s dick jerk against his wrist, then wetness oozed onto his arm, so he took Sam’s shaft in his free hand to find out his dick was slippery and coated with pre-cum.
That was just too fucking much. “Jesus, Sam,” he groaned, and started the quick strokes again, shoving Sam into the wall and Sam’s dick into his hand. “Gonna ride your ass until you come for me, kiddo.”
Sam groaned loudly and shoved himself back into Ian’s hips, widening his stance. Ian watched his fingers curl against the wall, all the long muscles in his back tense and shaking.
“C’mon,” Ian muttered, dropping his head onto Sam’s neck. That was damn close to begging, but fuck, if Sam didn’t come soon, Ian was going to—
Hot, liquid silk spilled into his hand, and Sam’s body shuddered while he sobbed and groaned.
Ian was so relieved that he thrust into Sam too hard, his hand colliding with the wall, but he was coming and just didn’t care.
Sam wasn’t complaining. Ian couldn’t move anyway, shoved inside Sam as deep as possible.
For the first time in memory, he wished he could feel himself shooting into someone and not just into the damned latex.
He gripped Sam’s hip tighter and tried to imagine he was.
Sam sagged into his arms and his hair tangled in Ian’s whiskers. Ian thought about propping him up against the wall, but he held him instead. Waiting until they’d both caught their breath some before he helped Sam the two steps to bed in spite of his own unsteady legs.
When Ian stumbled back from cleaning up in the bathroom, Sam was crashed out on his stomach, spread-eagle across the mattress. It took Ian forever to nudge and prod Sam onto his side, listening to his sleepy, nonsensical murmurs the whole time. It was cute.
Eventually, Ian curled up behind Sam with an arm around his middle. He started to tell himself Sam would like this, being spooned, but he was too tired and sated to deal with his own B.S., so he just hugged Sam tighter and kissed one bony vertebra before drifting off.
When Ian woke up in the morning, he was still wrapped around Sam, just the way he’d been when he’d fallen asleep. The room was full of sunlight. Why did it always shine like that when Sam was here?
Something about lying in bed with all that beautiful skin pressed right up against him made Ian a little drunk.
Not his normal self. Sam had the softest skin Ian had ever felt on any guy.
It was white, too. Milky. Milk-fed veal.
He watched the light entwine itself with the almost invisible hairs on the back of Sam’s neck.
That neck needed to be kissed, didn’t it?
He had a feeling he should be alarmed that his whiskers raised a mild pink rash when he rubbed his chin into Sam’s neck and shoulders.
Instead, he felt some weird emotion he would have called pride in other circumstances.
A nice guy would be concerned for Sam’s skin; Ian just wanted to mark all the paleness he could reach.
Apparently he wasn’t much of a nice guy.
It wasn’t exactly news to him. Anyway, he was sort of a nice guy. He did his best to kiss it all better after he rubbed the rash in. Sam woke up squirming and giggling, and it was cute as hell. Ian kissed him thoroughly and then went to make him pancakes.