North and Shaw Out of Office - Gregory Ashe Page 0,27

Shaw, cutting off the ridiculous flow of words. That kiss turned into another, and that one into another, growing like flames along fresh coals. Shaw’s mouth was needy, his hands desperate, fumbling at North’s shirt. He whimpered and mewled and arched against North’s touch as North slid his hand up under the chambray and caressed that spot low on Shaw’s belly that drove him wild. Every time was like the first time.

“Tell me I won,” North whispered when he broke their next kiss.

“That’s not fair,” Shaw wailed, the words rising in pitch as North palpated that tender spot on Shaw’s belly just above the patch of auburn fuzz. “North.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s my name.” North nuzzled the side of Shaw’s neck, nipping, licking, kissing, sucking. “Tell me I won.”

“No,” Shaw managed to get out, stumbling backward, shaking his head so hard that his chestnut hair tumbled loose. North got the last button on the chambray shirt and turned Shaw out of it, catching the man a moment later, rubbing low on Shaw’s stomach, clutching the other man to his chest so that Shaw couldn’t wiggle away. “No,” Shaw said again, turning his head, exposing his neck to North’s assault again. He mewled, arching his back, his slender frame taut with pleasure that couldn’t quite find release. “No, North—North—North!”

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, baby.” North gathered Shaw’s hair, kissing a line up to Shaw’s jaw, grinding against Shaw through denim and the thin athletic fabric of the joggers. It was just enough friction, just enough restriction, just enough frustration that it was ten times hotter than North ever remembered sex being. It was always like that with Shaw—as though the freshness of the experience for the chestnut-haired man could somehow communicate itself to North, as though every time were his first time too. The way he wanted it to be with Shaw: no shadows, no memories, no past.

“Tell me I won,” North whispered before licking Shaw’s ear. “I’ll be good to you, baby. You know I’m so good to you. I—” North cut off with a shudder and a grunt. Shaw’s nails raked across the sensitive skin on North’s upper back; it was like someone had turned a generator to ten and plugged it straight into North’s dick. He actually couldn’t swallow for a moment, and so he just panted and felt drool collecting at the back of his mouth. “Shaw, don’t you fucking dare—” Another of those delicate scratches ran across the ultra-tender skin, and North heard the noise he was making and still barely recognized it: a low, throaty hum like North himself was the generator, like he was the one flipped to ten and like he might fucking explode any second. “You cheat,” North managed to say, his voice like gravel. “You fucking cheat.”

Shaw twisted, moaning under North’s continued assault, thrusting up against North, his hair a wild curtain over his face. “A deal.” He broke off into another moan as North’s hand slid under the joggers, encircling his dick, squeezing once. “A deal,” Shaw repeated in a higher whisper, his eyes about to fall out of his head.

“What deal?” North said, running his thumb around again, gathering wetness, watching Shaw’s eyes get bigger and bigger like he might pop right there.

“You’re—” Shaw shivered, biting back a cry. “You’re getting sloppy, baby.” He ran a finger under North’s mouth, gathering drool. “I can do whatever I want to you. I can make you come apart right now.”

“And I,” North let him thumb glide across the slit pumping wetness, watched tremors rack Shaw’s body, “can do you the same way.”

“Deal, then: we both found him. We both get what we want.”

North made a considering noise, studying those hazel eyes, the fierce symmetry of Shaw’s sharp features, the hectic arousal in Shaw’s cheeks, the feel of Shaw’s lean, naked body against him. He thought it was impossible that anything this good could go on forever. He thought about ghosts swimming under murky brown water.

“All right,” North finally said, wishing he could regulate his voice. He bent and kissed Shaw, a real kiss, tender and deep and the closest thing to what he felt when words couldn’t come close to saying the right things.

“Now you,” Shaw whispered when they broke apart. His lips looked beestung. His eyes, if possible, had blown even wider.

“What?” North couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about; his entire being was concentrated on Shaw’s dick pulsing in his hand.

“What do you want? You won too, so what do you want?”

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