now, and I was nearly past the point of rational thinking.
“So are you?”
“Am I what?” I asked dazedly.
“Going to be my boy? Or are you going to go back out to Oliver and spend your night having tepid, ten-minute sex with that human rowing trophy?”
Well. When he put it like that.
I took his hand and guided it to where I wanted it. Right to where I loved being kneaded and invaded. He hissed at the first touch of his finger to my hot entrance, his Adam’s apple working up and down his throat as he struggled to go slow.
He pushed me back against the bookshelf again and bit at my neck as he explored me. When he started kissing me—his tongue fucking my mouth as his finger finally breached my outer ring of muscle—the line between my cock and my heart sizzled dangerously.
And when he lifted his head and stared at me like I was a work of art—his mouth swollen and his eyes like pools of molten mercury—and he said, “You are so beautiful, Tobias,” that stupid line caught on fire.
This was trouble. I was in trouble with him.
“James,” I whispered. “James.”
He stilled his caresses, looking down at me.
“I’ll be your boy. Just...please be something for me too, okay? Don’t let me fall alone.”
He stared down at me, a muscle working in his jaw. After a moment, he said, “No, Tobias. You’re not alone. I’ll be whatever you like.”
“Just be here. That’s what I’d like. I’ll be your boy and you’ll be here, and that will mean we’re together. We’re not alone in falling.”
He gave a short, jerky nod as though he was roiling inside, and he spun me around to face the shelves. “I’ll be here. Now hands up,” he rasped. “Be still.”
He tugged my trousers down to my thighs, and then he knelt behind me and spread my bottom. The moment he touched his tongue to me, I started chanting his name. I started squirming back against him while at the same time squirming forward to get away from him because the silky invasion of his tongue was too much. It felt too good; it stirred my impending climax too fast.
He growled when I squirmed away, and he wrapped his hands around my hips, dragging me roughly back to his mouth. “I said still,” he told me. “This isn’t for you. It’s for me. It’s for every minute of every hour of every day that I’ve spent obsessed.” He licked me again, and then he stood.
“Get my cock out and then bend over that desk. Be quick. I’ve waited two weeks for this.”
Hands shaking, I did as he asked, my neglected erection bobbing painfully in the air as I pulled him free. And my God was he everything I’d fantasized about. A thick eight inches, straight and proud, with a big, flared tip and dark, silky curls at the base leading up to his navel. In fact, when I ran my hand over his hard, muscle-etched stomach, I felt a light dusting of hair all the way to his chest.
He was all man—all mature, hardened man—and I thought I could spend the rest of my life nuzzling against the hair on his stomach and thighs.
“I’m only dating older men from now on,” I murmured to myself, and that earned me another fierce growl of displeasure.
“You are my boy,” he said unhappily. “Mine. Only I get you. Only I get this.”
“Yes, James,” I said, too horny to argue. Because it was true, and I knew it was true. James had snared me—heart, mind, and cock. For better or for worse.
“Tell me you have a condom.”
I let out a small laugh as I pointed him toward my trouser pocket. “You really are new at this, aren’t you?”
“Hush,” he said. “I’m a busy man. I haven’t had time for...trifling.”
“I’m also busy, James, but I always find time for trifling. It’s what makes me such a magnificent slut.”
He hauled me close and kissed my lips before bending me over the desk. “You’re my slut now, though, aren’t you? Can’t even make it through our parents’ Christmas party without offering your hole to me.”
His filthy mouth was going to be the death of me. Or of my poor, aching cock. I dropped my hand and started rubbing myself. “James,” I whispered. “Hurry.”
I heard the condom packet tear open, and after a minute, I heard him tear open the second thing he’d found in my pocket: a small packet of lube. He painted