He swallowed a gulp of air, realizing he was being watched. Caught with his hand in the cookie jar! At least he was too cold for his dick to react to Taron’s closeness, because otherwise his body would have betrayed him long ago.
Taron grabbed the hose and pointed it at Colin mercilessly before switching on the flow.
Colin clenched his eyes, tensed up and curled his toes, only to be hit by a shower of warm water. It splashed off his chest and drizzled down his cock, his legs, his hips. The caressing fingers of the warm liquid tickled his flesh, washing off all the sweat and dirt that short sponge baths of the past week couldn’t. He drew in a sharp breath when Taron lifted the hose, so the water dampened Colin’s hair before streaming down his neck.
Taron’s fingers sliding against his side was such a shock to the system Colin’s eyelids flew open despite water blurring the view. Taron was right in front of him, and he reached up, stretching his towering body to attach the hose to the branch above. In doing so, he brought his firm chest close to Colin, so close that the scents of the forest disappeared in the background, giving way to the earthy aroma of male sweat. Only then Colin noticed that there was another loop of rope there, so Taron must have used this spot for the purpose before.
Had he kept others? His mind whispered, but he was distracted by Taron’s body hair tickling his skin and Colin shuddered, at a loss as to whether he wanted to back away or push forward.
“Do you usually do double showers?” he asked, nodding toward the other piece of rope.
Taron squinted at him with a frown and cocked his head, suggesting he didn’t understand the question. As the warm water showered down on them, Colin was realizing just how much pleasure there was in this simple act of washing. Relief flooded his veins and purged him of all the little discomforts and fears. Violence was not coming, so he might as well relax and enjoy it while it lasts.
“I missed this so much,” he whimpered, shivering when the water tickled him behind the ear. The ground under his feet was already soaked, but it didn’t matter, because he could just wash his feet later, anyway.
He gasped when both of Taron’s hands joined in, overwhelming him with their confidence. Slippery yet not soft, Taron’s fingers seemed to do much more exploration than was strictly needed for washing. A part of Colin was ashamed and appalled. Another secretly loved it.
Hesitation was his other name, but when he looked down, at the meaty man-bear paws spreading foam all over him, desire hatched and forced its way to freedom. He whimpered when Taron cupped both his pecs, his long fingers reaching all the way to Colin’s collarbones. Tense as a string, Colin met Taron’s gaze, burning in the face of the lust welling over in the green irises like warm honey.
Had this been Taron’s plan all along? If only Colin could separate Taron the axeman murderer from Taron hot man of the land, this moment wouldn’t have been so adrenaline-inducing. Like a predator biding his time, Taron watched Colin, sliding his hands up to Colin’s hair and massaging it as if he weren’t Taron but his good-natured twin brother.
When Taron pressed closer, seemingly to reach the back of Colin’s head, his stiff cock was only separated from Colin’s trembling thigh by thin cotton.
Colin frantically pressed his legs together, but his balls were already getting heavier, and his dick filled in response to the dominant presence right before him. Despite his doubts, he kept staring at Taron, looking for clues about his future, and for the raw desire boiling in that intense stare.
They’d had whole conversations without speaking, just watching each other, though Colin was sure none of them had been about consent. He was trapped, and all he could do was give in or perish. How would have Taron treated a ‘no’? Would he actually stop? His dick was only getting harder against Colin’s flesh. The firm touch trailed down Colin’s shoulders, and without warning, Taron twisted Colin around, and proceeded to wash Colin’s back. The spot where Taron’s cock had pressed still throbbed with heat, and now that he couldn’t watch Taron anymore, Colin was a ball of anxiety. He could sense the blaze of arousal coming off the bulky body right behind him, and as Taron’s hands gravitated lower under the pretense of washing, his breathing became noisy and laborious.
There was nothing he could do to avoid this touch. He was an open carcass about to be eaten raw.
He was at the mercy of this wild man.
Any resolve to fight his own lust was lost when Taron reached around Colin and cupped his crotch in the soapy hand. Colin’s balls slid between the skillful fingers, and he moaned so shamelessly he blessed the fact Taron couldn’t hear it.