lifted it up and tilted his head. When Ciaran’s tongue snaked out and dragged across Bannon’s testicles, Bannon’s legs started shaking. His bollocks drew tighter as if trying to get away from the sensation. And maybe they were. He felt so incredible. His hands seemed to find Ciaran’s head on their own accord, sifting through the silky black strands, and he found himself pushing closer to that lovely tongue. But all too soon, or perhaps not soon enough, that tongue was gone, and Ciaran had engulfed his prick again.
Bannon moaned and gripped the edge of the bench much as he had the table. He felt as if he’d float away if he didn’t grab on to something, and somehow pulling Ciaran’s hair didn’t seem right under the circumstances. Because he certainly didn’t want this to stop. Ever. He dropped his head back in ecstasy but quickly jerked it back up, because he couldn’t bear not to watch. The sight of his saliva-slicked cock gliding in and out of Ciaran’s mouth was one of the most amazing things he’d ever seen. His arse clenched, tightening on the bench. “Oh my galaxy,” he whispered.
The warm heat left his prick, and Ciaran stood. He undid his belt and tossed it onto the table with a loud clunk, then gripped his plaid and pulled it off.
Mesmerized, Bannon stared as Ciaran’s body was revealed. He wore nothing beneath the kilt. Bannon caught a glimpse of his long, hard cock, then the white shirt fell over it, covering it. Bannon actually groaned and reached to lift the shirt out of the way.
Dust, but Ciaran was first-rate. His cock long and thick, and he was so hard. Bannon reached out and touched him. The heat nearly seared him, but before he could do more than squeeze, Ciaran’s hand covered his. He then ripped the shirt over his head until he stood there naked, all six foot five of him. The firelight at his back cast him in shadow, making his muscled chest seem like granite. If not for the scar on his arm and across the left side of his abdomen, he’d have been flawless, like a statue in the Regelence museum. But somehow the scars made him more beautiful. They made him real.
Bannon’s cock flexed in response. Bannon had the sudden urge to lean forward and lick the diagonal scar on his midsection, and he wasn’t going to stop there. He reached again, but Ciaran stepped away.
Ciaran spread his plaid on the floor between the table and the fireplace, then held out his hand. “Come here.”
Nodding, Bannon obeyed. The only problem was he’d forgotten about his pants around his ankles. But Ciaran didn’t.
Ciaran grabbed his forearms and helped him waddle over.
It was the most undignified thing Bannon had ever done, but Ciaran didn’t so much as crack a smile. Instead he urged Bannon to the ground until he lay on his back on the plaid.
Bannon stared up at all the naked flesh in front of him and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “I want to touch you.”
“Then ye shall.” Ciaran went to his hands and knees until his face was once again even with Bannon’s cock. He lifted it and engulfed it right down to the base.
Tensing, Bannon arched off the ground, and intense pleasure arced through him, but instead of working him with his mouth like Ciaran had before, he coated him with spit. He even lifted Bannon’s cock upright and dribbled saliva down the length. It should have been disgusting, but was instead very erotic. Afterward, Ciaran crawled forward, slung his leg over Bannon, and straddled him. Then slowly he lowered himself until the head of Bannon’s cock touched flesh.
The moment was surreal as Ciaran kept pressing down. At first it was as if he were mashing his cock against something hard, not painful, but not especially pleasurable either. Then the flesh gave and started to wrap around Bannon. He gasped at the tight squeeze. The grip spread all around him, almost strangling his prick. All the while Ciaran stared at him with those heavy-lidded dark eyes.
Once the entire head of his cock was engulfed in heat, Bannon looked between them, watching his cock disappear as Ciaran sank all the way down. It was the most intense thing he’d ever felt in his life, and if the sigh Ciaran gave him was anything to go by, Ciaran felt the same way. Ciaran’s cock was a dark red, standing straight up toward his