He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me, burying his head in my neck. His hands moved restively, not stroking but not able to be still.
"I miss him, y'know?" His voice came out muffled, but no less intense for it. "He never seems to get that. We live in the same place, work on the same team, but I fucking ache when he's not around. I carry the scent of him in my nose, the taste in my mouth. I watch him as we work, and I’m always getting pulled up by the leading hand for that. I remember how it felt to take his cock down my throat, to plunge myself into him over and over. The twist of that shit eating smile of his, the way his hair feels under my fingers, that tilt of his chin when I just know he's gonna cause trouble again."
"Hawk, you've got to go back to him. Tell him this. He obviously loves you. He's doing this to make you happy."
He drew back, keeping me straddling his lap with a loose arm. "That's the problem, isn't it? It's me that stops what you had happening. Some of the blokes, not many, but they only want their male partner or partners. Some never wanted a woman in the first place, others aren't willing to challenge what they have by trying it with a woman. Too much of a risk that she won't accept all of them, or be threatened by the bonds they already have. But me, I can't let it go. I'm too much of a selfish bastard to be grateful for what I've got. He sent me here because he thinks you might be more open, might give the two of us a chance. He knows I won't be happy with just him. I want it all, Julie."
He pulled me closer, his hand going to the hem of the shirt that was rucked up around my waist now. "He thinks I can fuck this out of my sy
stem, but I'm not so sure. You're so fucking soft and ripe. I knew this would be hot, but fuck. I've been aching and hard like a stone, watching you with those two, watching Slade order you around and just waiting for you to smack him down and put him in his place." His hand roamed across my belly. "I can still smell you in my beard. I don't want to wash my face, I want to hold onto it for as long as possible. You get so slick and wet. We don't do that. You seem so soft and fragile, but you were taking it from them like a warrior."
"You want to taste me again," I said.
"Yes."
"You want me to suck your cock."
"Yes."
"You want to work that fucking behemoth of a dick into me."
"I'll go slow, slow as you need."
"Well, alright then. Let’s go inside. It’s wet and dirty out here."
9
The smile on his face as I got to my feet was what I was looking for, sort of. Was his heart still breaking? Would he feel this was betraying Jack? Slade's words came back to me. He was a grown man, and this was his fantasy, and he was more than capable of negotiating it without me micromanaging him. He wasn't a child, something that became more than obvious when he stood up. He towered over me, blotting out the moonlight with his broad shoulders as he reached out to cup my head in his hands. When he bestowed it, his kiss was warm, prickly, and gentle. He'd said he'd go slow, and he did. He kissed like this would be his only opportunity, like he needed to memorise every bit of me and file the details away for later. When he pulled away, I stood dazed in the darkness, my lips throbbing, and he smiled. He liked seeing me disorientated by his touch, and emboldened, he grabbed my hand and drew me inside.
We were just inside the door when he pressed me against the wall. Looking into my eyes—always, always checking to see if I was OK—he yanked my shirt up to bare my breasts.
"These make me wish I was a fucking poet," he said, cupping one, then both. He almost appeared to weigh them with his hands, getting a feel for their heft. "I need words I haven't got to describe them."
"Don't need you to tell me what they look like," I said, grabbing the back of his head and drawing it down. "Human men do that all too much."
"Have pity on them," he said, placing small, glancing kisses on my lips. "Mortals struggle to describe the forms of goddesses."
I pulled back and cocked an eyebrow. His dick was rigid, and though many a man had blathered bad poetry to get into a girl's pants, he had to know this was a sure thing. I told him as much. His smile in the darkness was something altogether different, rakish even.
"Allow me a little gratitude, then. You wake up every morning and see this body. You have no idea what it does to someone like me."
"Oh, I think I have some idea."
His lips dropped open slightly as I cupped his balls, feeling the tight weight there. His former claim of aching made sense. He panted as my hand slid upwards, my fingers straining to wrap around his impressive girth. Then his eyes rolled back when I moved them up and down.
"Fucking hell," he said, head hanging down. "It feels so different. Your hand is so soft, so small, like you can barely fit me."
"Um, yeah, that's about right. We're going to have to go damn slow and find some lube, otherwise you're going nowhere near me. I get Jack is obviously a pro at taking monster cock, but I've got a ways to go until I'm at his level."
His hand snapped down on my wrist. "Don't talk about Jack. I get he's masterminded all of this, inserted himself as he always does, but this is not about him. This is about me."
I covered his wrist with mine and pulled him gently off.
"There's no one else here but you. No one else I'm touching, no one else's beautiful body on display, no one else aching to come."
"If you're not yet," he said with a growl, "I'll get you there." He shifted in closer, a shadowy figure now looming over me. His kisses, when they came, felt completely anonymous. A thrill of fear ran up my spine as he grabbed my hands and placed them above my head against the wall, holding them there with one hand while his other slid between my legs.
"Is it going to feel like silk, sliding into you? Because that's what you feel like now."