Til Darkness Falls, page 4
“What if I want to hurry?”
The stranger watched Brian carefully as he slowly crossed the room, dropping his coat over the back of the couch as he passed it. Brian paused in front of him, swallowing his apprehension as he reached out and took a fistful of the blond’s soft sweater. The man didn’t react as Brian pulled him forward, but neither did he resist as their lips were brought together.
For few seconds, the only contact between them was that light, innocent touch. Warmth, tenderness, and a disturbing sense of rightness flowed into Brian. Why? The question poked at the back of Brian’s mind. Why did this feel so perfect, so inevitable? But before he could come up with an answer, the kiss changed, becoming all fire and heat, as gentleness turned into a blazing conflagration of mutual desire and all doubt was swept away.
Pa’sheri, come to me.
Brian was extremely grateful for the strong arms wrapped securely around his waist, uncertain whether it was the kiss or the mysterious voice in his head that suddenly turned his knees to water. All he knew was that he didn’t want the kiss to end. Ever. The firm press of the other man’s lips was a revelation to his senses. The man knew just how hard to press, just when to bite at his lips, just when to thrust a tongue into his mouth with confident strokes. It was like this stranger had known him forever. Every caress, every hot point of contact, from the warmth of the hand kneading his ass through the fabric of his pants to the powerful thigh that wedged in between his legs, pressing tightly to his groin, reduced him to a quivering mass of need.
Brian was unaccustomed to being ruled by the base demands of his body. Over a year of celibacy was a testament to the fact that he didn’t just fall into bed with any handsome guy who glanced his way. Hell, all he knew about the man who was taking ownership of his mouth was that he was a writer and that he liked Beethoven.
The ache between his legs didn’t give a damn. The pulse fluttering in his throat didn’t care about his reservations. Nothing mattered but the firm chest pressing against his own, the man’s heavy heartbeat reverberating into his own body. The sensuous dance of the tongue was all-consuming as it claimed his mouth, finding and exploiting every sensitive corner as though they had been lovers for years rather than seconds. Brian moaned and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s neck, holding on for sanity and dear life.
A throaty, unrestrained moan caught Brian off guard, and it was a moment before he recognized the voice as his own. But he couldn’t find the will to summon the embarrassment that would usually follow such a loss of control. Even in his younger days, he hadn’t been promiscuous. In college, he’d been too focused on his career goals, and then in the academy, he’d just been too damned busy trying to survive the training to be overly indulgent in his sex life. Besides, after Dennis, Brian had become something of a loner, preferring the solitude of his dorm, or later, his tiny academy apartment to socializing. Now, years later, his social skills hadn’t improved much.
But being here with this beautiful man, this wasn’t hard. In fact, it was the easiest thing he’d ever done. A deep groan filled his mouth, prompting him to reciprocate in kind, the mutual sounds of pleasure resonating like a familiar song. Large hands swept down his back, and Brian felt the lingering warmth of soothing comfort in their wake. If he weren’t so turned on, Brian knew he’d be freaking out.
“You taste like cheap whiskey.”
Brian barely had time to register the comment before the man dove in for another kiss.
“Umm, delicious.”
Brian’s laugh was lost as the blond’s tongue delved deeply into his mouth, seeking out the lingering flavor. Like everything else about him, the other man even tasted classy, like expensive vermouth, or what Brian imagined vermouth might taste like if he’d ever had any. When long, nimble fingers abruptly went to work on the buttons of his shirt, it was almost a relief, but Brian couldn’t stop himself from tensing as strong hands came into burning contact with his bare skin.
“W-wait.” Wincing at the unsteadiness of his voice, Brian wrapped his hands around the man’s biceps, holding him at bay as he raggedly dragged air into his lungs. He couldn’t deny that he wanted the other man desperately, but things were moving too fast. His brain struggled to kick into gear against the drugging lust that was sapping his intelligence. He just needed to give his cock a change to calm down so he could think this through, so he could decide if he was really ready to allow some stranger to fuck him in a hotel room. A stranger who was doing very wicked things to his neck with his teeth and the tip of his tongue.
“Just—just wait a second.” The breathiness of his tone was humiliating.
The man stroked his sides with slow, calming strokes, like Brian was a skittish horse that needed reassuring. The contrast of the blond’s pale hands against his darker skin was mesmerizing, the gentle caresses steadying Brian even as his body thrummed like an instrument under the guidance of a master.
“Shhh, just relax. You don’t need to be afraid.”
In that instant, Brian became absolutely convinced that German accents should be illegal, or at least reserved for actors in adult movies. “Yeah, right.”
The taller man chuckled. “If I am to give you cause for concern, I will ensure that you enjoy it very much.” He flashed that killer smile again, causing something eager and greedy to clench in Brian’s gut. “Come. We should take this elsewhere, ja? I’m too old to relish the thought of making out on the floor.”
Brian chuckled, appreciating the blond’s attempt to make him relax. And damn him, it was working. “Yeah, my back would probably appreciate a mattress.” Still, the strength of the other man’s grip was firm, refusing to let him escape. Warmth spread from their joined hands, radiating out to fill his entire body, and Brian tried not to think about why the presumptuous gesture didn’t piss him off.
The bedroom was probably as nice as the rest of the hotel suite, but Brian didn’t see much of it. His entire world had been winnowed down to the press of the German’s firm lips, the weight of his hands, and the wet heat of his tongue. Brian was amazed they didn’t kill themselves as they maneuvered in a complicated pas de deux, clothing—Brian’s tie and vest, the man’s scarf and jacket—lying on the floor in an incriminating trail stretching from the sitting room to the bed.
His own hands were far from idle as they worshiped the rippling muscles of the blond’s firm, toned body. Brian had never been one of those gay men whose life was centered around the gym and the men who frequented them, but only a dead man wouldn’t have appreciated the tantalizing swells and bulges that defined the other man’s form. Brian pushed his hands under the soft fabric of the blond’s sweater, wanting it gone. Muscles smoothed and bunched intriguingly beneath his fingers, and when the blond moved back and obliged by lifting the sweater over his head, Brian had to forcibly close his mouth to stop himself from drooling.
A shaft of moonlight shone through the thin curtains pulled across the bedroom’s floor-to-ceiling windows. The pale light made the tall man’s skin glow in the darkness, highlighting the impressive yet understated swell of his pecs, the indentation of his defined abs, and the light dusting of blond hair across his chest. The hair thickened down the center of his stomach into a trail that led teasingly downward, disappearing at the waistband of his pants. Brian blinked, unsure if he should fall to his knees in reverence or simply jump him.
“Now it is your turn, I think,” the blond murmured, his hand lifting in Brian’s direction.
Brian waited breathlessly for the man to touch him again, so he was more than a little startled when, instead of reaching for him, the hand reached past him toward the lamp sitting on a bedside table. Brian hastily grabbed the man’s wrist. “What are you doing?” He felt stupid for asking such an obvious question, but he’d panicked.
The man looked at him curiously. “Well, I’ve not yet learned to see in the dark, so—”
Cocky bastard, Brian thought, his lips twitching with the urge to return the gentle smile the blond bestowed on him, but he still didn’t let go of the man’s wrist. Brian knew that he didn’t work out as much as he should, and he spent way too much time sitting at his desk eating whatever was at hand. Though he wasn’t fat by any means, his body wasn’t necessarily as tight and toned as it could be. In comparison to the god-like creature standing in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious of his less than fabulous physique. Plus, remaining in the dark would keep things more anonymous and impersonal. He had a feeling that injecting any more of himself into this encounter would be a very bad idea.
“Look, why don’t we pretend like we’re blind or something and that we have to use Braille to read each other. Sound like fun to you?”
The man gave him a crooked grin, but Brian could sense his reluctance to leave lights off. Under other circumstances, he might have felt flattered, but the fewer sensory memories he carried away from this experience, the better. Brian breathed a sigh of relief when the man dropped his hand, abandoning his plans for the lamp in favor of wrapping his arms around Brian’s waist. The next moment, Brian was cursing his brilliant idea when the German traced lightly up and down the knobs of his spine with his fingertips. Hot air blew softly over the side of his cheek as the man bent forward to murmur in his ear.
“I admit that I’m a little rusty, but I believe this says, ‘I want your mouth on my cock.’”
Brian sputtered as the other man dropped to his knees. He wanted to say that he had been expecting no such thing, but when the blond leaned forward to press his nose into Brian’s crotch, inhaling deeply to savor the musk of arousal, his brain short circuited.
“Fuuuuuuck.”
It was all he could manage as a warm mouth closed around the ridge of his cock, the fabric growing wet as he was sucked through the maddening layers of his pants and boxers. The vibration of the amused hum against his swollen flesh was enough to drop him to the edge of the bed. Unfazed by his sudden change in posture, the blond took advantage of Brian’s seated position to unlace his shoes and slip them off, one after the other. As he did so, he traced up the middle of Brian’s soles with his nail, the scraping sensation causing Brian to groan helplessly as his hips bucked against the other man’s mouth, hands scrabbling against the duvet for leverage.
Figures he’d find my second biggest erogenous zone in two seconds flat.
His pants were next, long fingers releasing the button holding his fly closed with a practiced flick. Brian lifted his hips obligingly as the man tugged, and as the pants slid down his legs, Brian began to suspect that he was in way over his head. He felt awkward and uncertain, as though his previous experiences with sex were nonexistent. Wrong, he admitted. He hadn’t even been this nervous during his first time. Maybe it was the fact that Dennis had been just as naïve and eager. But this mouth sucking so expertly at his cock didn’t belong to some awkward teenager.
The man followed the path of Brian’s pants with his lips as he slipped them off. Warm kisses trailed down one leg from the edge of Brian’s boxers to the top of his black dress sock. Letting the pants fall to the floor, the blond ran his hands back up the underside of Brian’s legs. The feather-light touch made Brian groan and shift against the bed as a damp spot seeped through his boxers. Brian could hear his own breath rasping in his ears, competing with the pounding beat of his frantic pulse. He nearly whimpered when the man paused to toy with the sensitive area behind his knees, cataloguing yet another promising spot in his quest to drive Brian insane.
Brian tried not to get swept away, telling himself that this was just like the dozen or so other make-out sessions he’d experienced over the years. But when the blond’s mouth reached his knee, pausing to lick at the rough skin and suck on the knobby curve, he admitted defeat. No one had ever made him feel like this before. He was afraid that he might actually come from someone sucking on his damned knee.
“You don’t have to—” Whatever objection he had been about to make was cut short, drowned out by his own moan as the man ignored him and returned to his previous task, now unhindered by anything but the flimsy material of his shorts. Even that final barrier was soon breached as the slit that offered convenience to billions of men all over the world provided the perfect access to his throbbing cock.
“Arggggh, shit!” Brian’s hands clenched into fists, digging into the comforter as the tip of a warm, wet tongue traced slowly, lovingly, over the veins standing out in prominent relief along the swollen length. His toes curled, punching dents into the deep shag of the dark brown carpet. The muscles in his thighs tensed as shocks of sensation spread out from his cock, showering his body with white-hot sparks. Sweat broke out in beads over his skin, his body temperature spiking feverishly with every tantalizing caress.
The rasping swirl of the blond’s tongue circled the flared head of his cock, hesitating briefly to savor the fluid dripping from the weeping hole. Brian’s lips fell slack as he struggled to draw in air. He mumbled incoherently, begging for the other man to stop teasing. Yet the light touch never ceased, just the tip of the blond’s tongue making contact as it abandoned the leaking head to bathe the rigid shaft with slow, broad strokes. Brian reached down and threaded his fingers into the thick cap of the man’s close-cut hair. He tugged fretfully at the pale strands, desperate for the man to keep going but afraid that he was on the verge of abandoning himself completely to this delicious torture.
As though he’d been waiting for just such a signal, the blond’s growl was a sexy threat as he abruptly took every inch of Brian’s aching cock into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. Brian cried out, heat racing through him like a bolt of lightening. The other man’s nose pressed against the tight curls at his groin as his thighs were pushed further apart, a dexterous tongue laving the delicate skin at the base of his aching shaft. The man hummed appreciatively as he massaged Brian’s thighs, gently kneading the tense muscles. He licked at Brian’s cock, enjoying it like a rare treat, before sucking at it with a strong pull that drew the rod of flesh to the very back of his throat. Everything seemed to go white before Brian’s eyes, his ability to think obliterated by the talented mouth flinging his will into oblivion. Only his voice seemed to be working properly. Every dip of the man’s head and sweep of his tongue forced out an unbidden curse or helpless shout in appreciation of his skill.
Brian slumped forward over the blond’s head, every ounce of concentration centered on his cock. A sudden tightness in his balls signaled his rapidly approaching downfall. “Ahh, please don’t stop!” he panted, his hair dripping with sweat. “Please,” he begged, knowing he’d die if the man left him now. He was so close he could taste it.
The man hummed reassuringly, and the vibrating purr signaled the end for Brian. His entire body convulsed, hot jets of viscous heat shooting from his cock. The blond swallowed the flood greedily, not stopping until the last drop had been coaxed from the softening flesh in his mouth.
Brian collapsed onto the bed, his limbs jerking with aftershocks as every ounce of strength bled from his body. He wanted to move, to touch the other man’s cheek with his hand, to offer a word of gratitude for the best blow job he’d ever had. But too many sleepless nights suddenly caught up with him, and all he could do was groan as the sweat cooled on his body.
He sensed movement and the resulting disturbance of air as the other man rose to his feet. Those same hands that had just driven him so crazy tugged at his boxers, and at long last sent them the way of his pants. When the man lifted his legs and swung them over so that he lay fully on the bed, Brian figured that his ass was about to return the favor. But the blond simply lifted him so that he could pull the duvet from beneath him. Brian found the strength to open his eyes when he felt the thick cover fall gently over him. The bed dipped from the heavy weight that settled beside him as the man lay next to him. Brian was acutely aware that other than the duvet, he was wearing nothing but his gaping shirt and his socks, but he simply yawned, too tired to care about his state of undress.
“What about you?” His voice was hoarse, presumably from his recent attempt to shout down the walls. Brian felt his cheeks grow warm at the humiliating memory. Although it was hard to tell in the dim room, he thought he could see the flash of the man’s perfect teeth.
“Do not concern yourself. You look very tired.” The backs of the man’s long fingers ran softy down the side of his face. “Just sleep. I promise I won’t molest you too much.”
“Too bad.” His snarky reply was the last thing Brian remembered as he slipped into sleep.
Chapter 2
“PA’SHERI, I love you.”
Long arms wrapped securely against a smaller body, drawing the boy into a firm chest. Thin, dark fingers ran lovingly through a thick fall of black hair.
“And I you. Always.”
BRIAN awoke with a gasp as the remnants of the dream faded, leaving him disoriented and horny.
Great, not again.
He groaned, wishing his dream buddies would give it a rest now and again—not that he didn’t get a voyeuristic thrill from watching the handsome, princely figure take his pleasure in his dark-skinned boy toy. Slowly, the images began to fade back into his subconscious, though they had seemed particularly vivid this time. His nose twitching as he caught a whiff of some unfamiliar, earthy scent, Brian tried to forget the smoke he’d seen rising from a stick of incense situated near the dream couple as they made love. Sometimes he felt a little jealous of their uncomplicated affection. Brian kept his eyes closed, enjoying the last few traces of the dream and realizing he had a serious case of morning wood.
Figuring he should probably think about getting up, Brian reached his arms out in a slow stretch. It was a beloved morning routine that popped and lengthened every muscle. He paused abruptly in the middle of the motion, however, when his right arm brushed against the pillow next to him. That should have been impossible, since he always slept on the right side of his bed. His arm shouldn’t have hit anything but air. Where in the hell am I? Images far more concrete than the mysterious dream instantly flooded his mind in swift response. A wave of panic came swiftly on their heels, and Brian groaned as he covered his face with his hands.
