The Dickens with Love (5 page)
doors and made a butterfly net of pale squares and cross-hatching across the plush carpet. The embers in the fireplace glowed orange, throwing the furniture in shadow. Except for the bed. The king-sized bed was perfectly illuminated like a stage prop in the footlights, which for reasons unknown I found funny. But then I’d had enough to drink that I found pretty much everything funny.
Amused and horny: not a bad state in which to find yourself when you’re about to fuck with a
handsome stranger.
The whisper of buttons popping and zippers sliding—and our rather heavy breathing—were the only
sounds as we shed our clothes, heeled out of our shoes. Crisparkle—no, I couldn’t go to bed with a guy named Crisparkle—
Sedgwick
caught my hand, drawing me to the bed. I could see the gleam of his eyes in the darkness. He’d taken his glasses off. His face looked much younger and almost mischievous in the
moonlight as he grabbed me around the waist and tumbled us both to the duvet-covered mattress. It was
like landing in a cloud—with an angel on top of me. An angel that tasted like cinnamon and chocolate and stardust.
I’d sort of forgotten how nice kissing was. How…personal. I tried to take a more active role but
Sedgwick seemed to have his heart set on taste-testing me. He kissed and licked and nibbled his way along my jawline, down my throat. His mouth latched onto one of my nipples and I arched up, gulping for air.
He half-lifted off me. “Did I hurt you?”
“I wasn’t expecting teeth.”
“Sorry. I got rather carried away.”
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Josh Lanyon
“It’s okay. Only…” I forgot what I was trying to say as his mouth closed on me again, only this time
softly, sweetly. I relaxed back into the rose-embossed cloud, squirming pleasurably as he continued with that distracting wet pressure of expert tongue and lips. He moved to the other nipple.
Jeeeeeeesus.
It had been longer than I thought because—
“Wait,” I gasped.
Sedgwick raised his head. “I couldn’t have hurt you that time.” He sounded mildly indignant.
“N-no. You’ve got to slow down or you’re going to make me come.”
“
Oh
.” He considered this. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Not in the first four minutes.”
“Ah. Right.” He was smiling—rather a wicked smile. Then he bent again and proceeded to graze and
nuzzle his way down my midsection and abdomen. By the time his mouth got to my groin I was about
ready to hyperventilate—except that I wouldn’t have willingly missed one instant of that incredible
sensation of hot wet mouth on my shivering nakedness.
I ran my hands over the hard, smooth contours of his broad shoulders and surprisingly muscular back.
He obviously didn’t simply sit around watching test tubes all day. He had a nice taut ass too, but that was well out of my reach by then.
I waited, literally quivering in anticipation. His breath gusted warmly over the head of my cock as he sighed. “As much as I want to do this, we probably should take precautions.”
Manfully, I bit back my groan of disappointment. I felt a totally uncharacteristic desire to urge him
on, to assure him I was clean as the driven snow and remind him that even if I wasn’t, the chances of
contracting anything from fellatio were a slim .04 percent. Except with my luck…
“Yeah,” I said huskily. “Do you—?” The days when I carried a condom in my wallet were long
behind me. I barely carried money anymore.
“Hang about,” he said with unseemly cheerfulness. The mattress springs pinged as he jumped up. He
was back in a flash. And, in fact, something
was
flashing in his hand. Something palely green and mildly glowing.
“What on earth?” I sat up. My cock sat down. “What the hell is
that
?”
“A friend’s idea of a joke, but I think it’ll serve our purpose.” He held his hand up, apparently
dangling a pale green tongue from his fist.
“Is that supposed to be a condom?”
“Mm. They come in red and green. Christmas colors. And they’re flavored. Peppermint or piña
colada.” He tossed a couple of shining unopened packets on the duvet.
Now it all made sense. A nutty professor on a business vacation. Crisparkle was here to sell his book
and get laid. It wasn’t my luck that had changed, it was
his
. Still comfortably inebriated, I didn’t begrudge 26
The Dickens with Love
him. It wasn’t as though I’d imagined this was anything real. As though we were falling in love like the stars of a sappy here! channel holiday romance.
“What flavor did you choose?” I asked curiously, as he tore into a packet.
“Peppermint. You strike me as the peppermint type.”
As opposed to piña colada? Probably. I reached for the rubber beacon, but Sedgwick held it out of
reach. “Relax. I’ll take care of this.”
“Be my guest.” I crooked my arm behind my head, watching with almost detached interest as he
settled himself beside me again. By then I’d lost my erection, but I was more than happy to let him try to recapture my interest.
He managed that by putting the condom on me using his mouth. His whole face seemed to be getting
into the act—quite literally—and within moist, warm seconds I was stiff and straight as a flagpole flying the regimental colors. The fact that my regimental colors were apparently peppermint-flavored evergreen was beside the point. The graze of teeth and razor stubble and tongue…it was very difficult to hold still long enough to allow him to pull the rubber down the shaft of my penis with his lips.
“I wish I’d been there while you were practicing this parlor trick,” I managed.
He huffed a laugh, his breath warm against my balls. “Mmm hmm…”
I threw my head back gulping for air. If this was the preliminary—
His hot knowing mouth closed on the faintly tingling head of my cock, and I made a sound probably
similar to that the mouse had made when it first beheld the Christmas cake. I could feel my nutty professor smiling as he wrapped one long-fingered hand around the base of my penis as though I were a peppermint stick and he was about to snack.
Oh my God it was delicious—even through the rubber—that hard suction and slathery warmth. And it
went on and
on
. Or as long as I could take, which actually wasn’t that long because it had been way too long…long…
long
…
My balls drew up tight to my body, taut and aching. He cupped them with a gentle hand, and that
combination of strength and gentleness was my undoing. I reached out to trace the line of his jaw and felt his cheeks hollowing as he sucked harder. My entire focus narrowed to one glimmering point like a shining star that grew hotter and whiter and hotter and then suddenly exploded through me. I could no more have smothered the scream that tore out of me than I could have stopped the starfire pulsing out of my cock—
only to be lapped up by that shining peppermint tongue.
Sedgwick continued to gently mouth me as I softened.
I drifted, vaguely aware that he was dealing with the practicalities and not particularly interested. But after a time he was lying beside me again and I became aware of his growing impatience. It was nudging me in the belly.
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Josh Lanyon
I opened my eyes. What I really wanted was to curl up in this wonderful bed and fall asleep listening
to the rain which had started again. I was on the downside of the alcohol, relaxed and satisfied with sexual release. I could feel the tension practically humming through his long, lean frame.
“Would you like the same?” I made myself ask.
“Well…”
There was a certain awkwardness in his tone. I considered it, blinking drowsily. It dawned on me
what he wanted but wasn’t comfortable asking for.
“You want to fuck me?” I guessed.
“I do. Yes.” He reached out and stroked my chest. “Very much.”
I considered it. Frankly, it was probably less effort than giving him a return blowjob, and…it wasn’t
like I didn’t like it. If he was half as skilful and inventive at fucking as he was sucking I was probably in for a treat.
I glanced to the side of the bed. “Well, I know you have another condom.”
“Oh yes.” I could see the gleam of his teeth in the gloom. “One for every day of my visit, and I’ve
already been here three days.”
“Good God.”
“He is tonight.” Sedgwick was already rising—in every sense. What was he going to get now? I heard
the slide of drawers; he had actually unpacked and put his clothes away in the dressers. Then he vanished briefly into the bathroom. He returned to the bed and dropped down beside me with a bounce.
I rolled onto my side, the better to see him. “What flavor did you pick this time?”
“Red. For sake of variety.”
“Red isn’t a flavor.”
“You’d be surprised. How would you like to do this?”
I shrugged. “I’m reasonably versatile.”
“I thought you might be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I heard the edge in my voice and knew he did too because he said immediately, “You have a sort
of…sexual confidence. It’s in the way you stand, even the way you sit, the way you looked into my eyes when we met. You have your insecurities, but they don’t extend to your sexuality. You’re very comfortable in your skin.” He added—not as a compliment but as a matter of fact, “It’s a very beautiful skin.”
It took me an instant to recover enough to say, “You have a very appealing surface yourself.”
“Thank you.” I thought he might be laughing at me but it was impossible to tell in the darkness. Then
again, perhaps he thought I was laughing at him.
I sat up the rest of the way and said briskly, “You’ve done this before, I assume?”
“Yes. I’m no virgin. You won’t hurt me and I won’t hurt you.”
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The Dickens with Love
Not a virgin but his friends had sent him off on vacation with a fistful of condoms. On the rebound
then? Probably better not to concern myself. Sedgwick had already made it clear that this was not the
beginning of a beautiful relationship—not that I was looking for that either. At this point I was hoping that he’d let me spend the night once we finished up.
I was still turning this over in my mind when he leaned forward and covered my mouth in a kiss that
was both delicate and deliberate, a reclaiming of attention—and unexpectedly, expertly arousing. We went into each other’s arms and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I could feel myself turning on again, that electric awareness, bright and twinkling, as if someone had plugged in the Christmas tree lights.
We kissed a little more, light and easy, Sedgwick whispered words I didn’t catch, but the tone was
sufficiently admiring and the hand stroking me was certainly pleasurable. He seemed to know what he was doing, and I was surprised to find my cock raising its hopeful head, apparently not completely tired out after all.
Sedgwick’s fingers traced a delicate brushing stroke against the entrance of my body and pushed
inside. There was something soft and silky on his fingers, a sweet scent. I lifted my head.
“What is that?”
“Whipped chocolate crème brûlée.”
“What?”
“It’s a body cream soufflé.”
“Did you pack for an orgy or what?”
He chuckled, his fingers still slip-sliding deliciously and intimately inside the channel of my body. I moaned as he managed to hit the sensitive nub of my prostate, sending shivers of sensation through me. I shifted to give him better access, and he whispered, “You’re so wonderfully uninhibited.”
He withdrew his fingers, and the large blunt head of his cock rubbed against the tight hole of my
body. He bent his head, his mouth nuzzled me behind the ear and he gave me another of those ghostly nips.
A small shock, like a spark or a short, rippled through me. I jumped, and as I did, his cock shoved past the ring of tight quivering muscle, sheathing itself in my body. The silky hair of his groin dusted my sensitized skin.
“Oh, that’s brilliant,” he groaned. “So hot, so blood hot.”
Or maybe he said “bloody hot”, but either way it was exciting to hear him saying those things in that
dark, guttural voice. “Like a suede glove grabbing me, stroking me…”
It was disconcerting too, to get this blow-by-blow commentary, when all I wanted to do was focus on
that fullness pulsing inside me. We were so close, hearts banging away against each other, damp and
feverish bodies smelling of clean sweat and musk and…well, cocoa and peppermint, breath stirring each
other’s heated faces—although his breath was doing more stirring than mine.
“Like a hot, black fist…”
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Josh Lanyon
“My
God
you talk a lot,” I gasped, arching up in an attempt to get him going. I pushed back on that long, thick shaft, and he pushed back, and we fell into a steady rhythm. The earthy sounds we made
fucking, the faint smack and suck, the grunts and gasps, were disturbingly intimate.
That pump and pull was like a hammer striking the golden frames of angel wings, pounding them into
shining, glinting pennons. Perspiration sheened our bodies and our breath grew harsher as we bent our
backs and worked this forge, and then the wings began to beat, trying to take flight, moving faster and faster, and we seemed to lift right off the ground, right off the pillows and bedding, and hang there transfixed as warm, white Halle-fricking-lujah surged through.
And then we dropped back to earth, wet, winded and weak. Human again.
I was very drowsy. I knew I should get up and start dressing, but it had been a tiring day and an