ever had. Of course, Blaine didn’t know he was a witch. But this wasn’t forever. Just one time. One passionate, perfect time to give him a memory of joy.
“Did I lose you?”
Killian looked up. He was standing still in the middle of a long hall. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
Blaine covered the few steps between them and did that hand-on-the-cheek thing again. “Some cold feet, maybe? I understand. You don’t know me very well, and there’s no rush. If you think we can be together just to get better acquainted—for coffee or cat petting, it will be fine with me. Take your time.”
What? “No. No time. Now, please. I really want this. I do, so much.”
Blaine took his hand. “That’s even better. I want you to want me, Killian, because I’m dying for you.” He started walking sideways, holding Killian’s hand until they got to a door at the end of the hall.
They rounded a corner. Oh yes, so perfect—a high-ceilinged room, complete with fireplace. Crisp white sheets on the big bed, just as the man had promised him. Or promised Al, to be exact. Blaine walked backward until he got to the bed and then dipped a shoulder. Aloysius hopped off. The cat, his shiny blackness startling against the sheets, stalked to the pillows, curled up, and watched, purring the whole time.
Blaine laughed. “I think we have to be exhibitionists with Al around.” He looked toward the cat. “A bit of a voyeur, fella?” He looked intently back at Killian. “Well, watch away, because I’m going to kiss your buddy here until he can’t stand up, and then I’m going to strip him naked and caress every inch of his body, and when he’s ready, I’m going to slip my starving cock into his beautiful ass and fuck him senseless. Does that sound good, Al?”
“Mwrar.”
Killian seconded the motion. His legs shook so hard, he could barely stand. “Blaine….”
In two steps, Blaine covered the space between them. The heat of his embrace wrapped around Killian. Holy Powers. His arms felt wonderful, strong and safe. Blaine’s searching mouth closed over his. Sweet! Even better than he remembered. The softness of his tongue explored the contours of Killian’s lips, caressing every tiny, tingling nerve ending. Oh dear gods, go deep, sweet thing. Killian opened his mouth to the welcome intruder. Blaine’s tasted like dessert—hot apple pie, crème brûlée, cinnamon ice cream. Oh gods, let me lick the bowl. As their tongues danced and played, a deep tremble crawled up Killian’s spine. Powers… a distant rumble of thunder vibrated through the room.
Blaine pulled back and looked toward the window. “Thunder? It was so bright when we came in.”
Killian’s heart skipped. Control yourself! For a second there, he’d just forgotten he was a witch.
Blaine looked back at Killian. “I like the thunder. It sounds like I feel.” His mouth covered Killian’s, pressing his tongue even deeper this time. Killian never wanted it to stop. One strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him tight. Blaine’s hand slipped under his butt, raising him the extra couple inches to bring their cocks tightly together. Holy gods! Rumble. He pressed closer, rubbing against that hard bulge. Shocks of electricity fired into his belly from his cock. Trembling, like weak and strong at the same time. Thunder rolled through the room again. Oh, yes, Powers, yes!
Chapter Ten
Sweet Jesus. Felt so good. Blaine rode hard against Killian’s cock as flashes of heat seared through him. Had to get out of these clothes. Without taking his lips from Killian’s, he pulled off the man’s leather jacket and tossed it onto the overstuffed chair by the window. Damn. He needed both hands. He let go of Killian’s tight butt and grasped the edges of the thin wool sweater that clung to his slender body. Up and over. He pulled his mouth away, ripped the sweater over the long queue of hair, and tossed it after the jacket.
He stopped. What a picture. Holy fucking beautiful. He stepped back, still hanging on to both of Killian’s arms. Wow. He just wanted to stare. Smooth. Not one hair marred the surface, just the perfect contrast of the flat pink disks of his nipples. So slender, but with just enough musculature. Like some Greek statue of Pan or Hermes. Killian’s hair had fallen loose, and part of the dark blond silk fell over one shoulder and onto his chest like a river of moonlight. No wonder this guy haunted Blaine’s dreams.
Since the first moment he’d seen Killian