“Hmmm,” he hummed, a note of disapproval in his voice. “Messy.”
Henry’s chest heaved, and his eyes glittered, his gaze fixed on Kit.
“What shall I do with such a messy boy?” Kit wondered aloud. He smiled at Henry, letting his gaze travel all the way down his body.
“Are you going to fuck me?” Henry gasped.
Kit’s smile widened. “You do seem quite fixed on that idea,” he said. “Will you be terribly disappointed if I don’t? I’m not sure you’re really ready for that.”
Henry swallowed. “I can take it,” he said.
Kit laughed softly, and he sat on the mattress beside Henry. “Oh, I’m quite sure you can,” he said. “But you see, I’d prefer to have you begging mindlessly for my cock rather than bravely withstanding it.” He leaned over then, till their faces were very close together, and whispered in a confidential tone, “A fellow likes to think he’s wanted, you know.”
“You are wanted,” Henry breathed. “And if you want me to beg mindlessly, I can do that.”
Kit’s cock was beating an insistent pulse between his legs, and all he could do was stare at the man laid out before him. Breathlessly, he said, “Oh, Henry. You really don’t know what you’re offering.”
“I do, I—”
Kit touched his fingers to Henry’s lips, silencing him. “Will you indulge me?” he murmured. “By letting me decide what you can take tonight?”
Henry stared at him a moment longer, then he gave a jerky nod. “All right,” he said. “But know that I want this, and I want it to be you, Christopher.”
“It’s Kit.”
“What?” Henry said dazedly.
“Call me Kit.”
“Kit,” Henry breathed, his grey gaze travelling over Kit’s face as he tried to discern why this was important.
Kit leaned down till their lips grazed. “That’s right. I’m Kit—Christopher was an agreeable whore. I have not been Christopher for a very long time.”
Henry frowned at that, but he nodded his understanding, saying, “Kit,” again, his breath soft against Kit’s lips.
“Good boy,” Kit murmured. “I think that deserves a reward.”
And with that, he breached the final, infinitesimal distance between their lips, pressing his mouth fully against Henry’s for the first time in years and years.
Henry gave a grateful moan, and Kit slid his tongue deeply into his mouth, exploring briefly, slickly, before pulling back to tease his lips again with soft sucking pulls.
God, but Henry smelled good, just like he used to. A natural, masculine smell that made Kit think of leather and wood. Kit couldn’t get enough of it. He broke the kiss and dived down to nuzzle Henry’s throat, relishing Henry’s helpless moans. He felt rather than saw the movement of Henry’s arms as he tried to use them, to reach for Kit, only to be restrained by the cuffs. And yes, by God, Kit liked that. Liked knowing that he had Henry held helpless.
Kit climbed onto the bed properly then, covering Henry’s leashed body with his own, relishing the roughness of Henry’s chest hair against his smoother skin. He began travelling downwards, leaving a feverish trail of kisses in his wake, pausing briefly to suck obscenely at Henry’s nipples.
Given entirely free rein to do whatever he wanted, Kit found he wanted map every inch of Henry’s glorious body with his mouth.
Henry moaned and gasped in response to Kit’s attentions, occasionally muttering his name or pleading inarticulately. His limbs tensed under Kit’s mouth, and his cock pulsed and leaked, a thin trail of glittering fluid connecting his tip to his belly.
When Kit reached Henry’s cock, he swiped his tongue over the tip, relishing the burst of salt. He played lightly for a while, suckling the head teasingly, tickling the point of his tongue up Henry’s thick shaft, stroking Henry’s balls with soft brushes of his fingertips till Henry was almost sobbing with frustration.
When Henry gasped, “Please, Kit,” Kit lifted his head and grinned.
“Ready to play harder?” he asked. Without waiting for a response, he stretched his lithe body over Henry’s to grab a small bottle from the bedside cabinet. Henry groaned again as Kit’s body rubbed his own.
Bottle in hand, Kit leaned back on his heels. He showed it to Henry. “Remember using this on me?” he teased.
He rocked the bottle from side to side, and the oil inside moved, slow and viscous.
Henry could only seem to pant. Kit grinned and moved downwards again—this time without the distraction of kisses—and settled himself comfortably between Henry’s spread thighs.
Henry was hairy down here too, and God help him, Kit liked it.