Take This Man: Gay Romance Stories (2 page)

“What?” he asked with a lazy smile.

“Just you.”

“Like what you see?”

I unwound the towel from my waist. “What d’you think?”

We don’t have to ask or explain, not anymore. A look, a gesture, sometimes not even that, is all it takes. So when he raised his eyes from my cock and slid his heels to his ass, I knew the way it would play out. But I said it anyway because I wanted to try the words for the first time. “You want your husband to fuck you, baby?” A tremor passed over his face and his cock clenched, lifting off his belly. The bottle of lube had rolled next to his hip and he felt around for it. I stroked his instep. “Not yet.”

“Don’t make me wait, Christian.”

“Just a little while.”

I have forty pounds on Iain, hard-packed muscle, the result of lucky genes, my place in a rugby front row and the occasional resented hour in the gym. So when I crawled up between his legs I hovered over him, straight-armed. He ran his hands over my shoulders and biceps as if he’d never felt them before and his need for me throbbed in the blood vessels at his throat.

“Safe. I’m safe with you.”

“Always.” I lowered my hips and fitted my cock to his and in the last second before I kissed him, very low, almost under his breath, he whispered, “Beloved.” The thought came to me then with eerie clarity, fully formed.
Whatever strength is in me, whatever power I have, it’s for you. I will guard you and protect you. I would kill for you
.

“Let me,” he murmured, breaking away with a gasp.

“Let you?”

“Suck.”

I hesitated. Once his mouth was on me, the way I was feeling I wouldn’t be able to hold back and this night of all nights I needed to be inside him. “Don’t make me come.”

“I won’t.”

Up, then, on one elbow, he flattened his palm on my breastbone. “I love your tits. I love it that you’re smooth.”

“Thought it was my ears.”

“Those too.”

Lapping like a cat, he worked back and forth, breathing on the moisture trail he made, rubbing the ball of his thumb, gently flicking my nipples. Iain’s aren’t sensitive but when he settled to suckle mine, each rhythmic tug of his lips sent a hot flare to the mesh of nerves in my cock. Groaning at the sensation, I spread my legs. The first time he’d taken me to bed, he’d hurt me. Just that once, never since. A couple of months earlier he’d ended a going-nowhere relationship with another doctor—hot sex, tepid emotion—and he’d misjudged things with me. Maybe lust had made the deft surgeon clumsy for once or maybe he’d simply been used to a guy who was into rough handling. Whatever the reason, he’d tugged too hard and the gray bolt of pain that had shot through my balls made me nauseous. I’d curled away from him, tucking into myself, hardly able to hear his stammering apologies. We all get it wrong sometimes and I’d already fallen heavily for him, so I stuck with it. It had taken some time and more than one heated conversation before I got to the point where the approach of his hand didn’t make me flinch. But that was then.

His forearm brushed my shaft as he reached down and found that sweet spot behind my sac, pressing just firmly enough so he didn’t tickle. His hand cupping, fingers lightly drumming, he manipulated my balls the way only he can, watching my face, the quivering of my cock. But when he lowered his head and mouthed my glans, I clutched his hip. “
Don’t make me come, Iain
.”

“Sure?” He held my shaft at the base and painted the tip wetly over his lips. “You’re sure?” A swift duck of his head and I was engulfed in heat, the bed of his tongue soft, the roof of his mouth hard. Up in a spiraling suck. Down. Up, the maddening drag of his lips. Down. Up, a sly little finger stretching to my hole—

I pushed at his forehead and eased out, my heart hammering. I sank back on the pillows and dropped my arm over my eyes as I fought back the rise. “Fuck.” He started to kiss up the side of my shaft. “
Don’t!
” I let out a shaky breath. “Don’t. Christ.”

He reached down over the side of the bed and picked up the towel. “Do it then. Now, Chris. I mean it. Now.”

That moment. The man you adore on his back, his hands clasped behind his knees, holding them to his shoulders. His cock engorged, southpaw balls drawn up high at its base. Naked in its ruff of fur, his anus cramps with desire, the sweet pink corona pouting. He’s fractionally dilated and you press a fingertip against the rim to get a glimpse of glistening, rose-red membrane. He smiles at you, he’s waiting for you, and the world is reduced to your own aching cock and this little pursed mouth and your man’s hoarse pleading.

Mouth to mouth…I kissed him hungrily, my lips soft but the scrape of my stubbled jaw harsh on his perineum and the under curve of his sac. I nuzzled into him, rasping delicate flesh. He’d be sore in the morning, the way he likes. I held his balls away and slid my tongue into him, easy, easy through the relaxed muscle. Only with him: Iain is clean and wholesome and whatever we do together is an expression of love.

It takes time to learn a man’s body, to move with him far beyond the default jerk and suck that’ll get anyone off. Iain likes to fuck me belly down, claiming it’s so he can rock on the cushion of my ass rather than grind his bony pelvis against bone, but I think it’s more my submissiveness in that position that excites him. As it does me. But this night I wanted him on his back. I wanted to kiss the taste and smell of his ass onto his face. I wanted to look at him when his orgasm hit. I squirted a coil of gel and began to massage his perineum, up toward his cock, following the thick ridge as it bisected his sac. His balls separated, hanging on either side, dense and heavy. I swept my hand from the root of his shaft to a slithering stop just short of his hole and with the other I grasped him, pulling it gently upward, feeling the responsive ripple as I squeezed and released, squeezed and released.

“Oh, fuck…”

My mouth was bone dry. I cleared my throat, swallowed hard. “What, babe?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t. Tell me.”

His head rolled on the pillow, tossing in frustration. He knew I’d make him say it. “Inside me. Finger me.”

“Like this?” Just a fingertip at first, teasing dips hardly penetrating the supple ring. “Or this?” All the way in until my palm was splayed against his buttocks and I heard his sharp, gasping cries. His rectum sucked at me, slippery with lube and his own sweet fluid; I could feel a pulse, the frantic beat of his heart. And there…I swept my finger over the plump bulb, caressing, caressing, and watched his cock grow limp: when I do this to him, the sensations in his ass are so overwhelming, he occasionally loses his erection. Sometimes I can make him come, soft as he is, with just my fingers. I looked up along the length of his body, from the wiry bush at his groin to his lovely face, dark eyes heavy lidded, his mouth slack. There was no love in the look we exchanged; there was only the hard light of lust, the primal glare of two men in rut.

My hands shook as I coated my shaft. Again I hovered, but this time braced on one arm, my other hand guiding my glans to his hole. Finding the angle for entry…under and up, following the slope of the bowel, high in, high in, oh Jesus, so high into him until I hit the cage of his pelvis, the barrier that keeps me out. Keeps me from entering fully into him, merging his body with mine. He held the back of my neck and his legs locked around my hips. His mouth was against my ear, murmuring, urging. My face hidden in his neck, I began to thrust. Unable to think, unable to feel anything but the heat and the wet and the staggering pleasure in my cock. The glory of fucking him.

“Bite,” he panted.

It’s a hangover from his adolescence. Iain’s first boyfriend used to mark him all over with love bites and he still likes having it done to him. I bit at the join of his throat and shoulder, sucked a sliver of skin hard against my teeth. He bucked violently and I felt the almost overwhelming urge to sink my teeth into the muscle, bite it hard, a male animal pinning its mate. My heart galloping, I leaned my brow against his. Storm clouds of orgasm were gathering, piling in the distance; already I was feeling the first warning flickers, the flashes of lightning in my cock.
Focus. Focus on him
.

“Again, bite me some more—”

“No!” I gathered him to me and surged into him, jolting his body with each savage thrust, lost to everything but the need to come, to empty my seed into him, flood him, fuck him,
fuck him—

“Yeah, baby,
yesss
…”

I half-heard his crooning moan but then there was nothing, nothing more of him or of me. I lifted into the vortex, my climax spinning me, spinning me, and I convulsed into ecstasy and I broke apart.

Sated and dreamy, I cuddled into him, drifting comfortably down into sleep. He moved slightly and I hooked my leg over his thigh and pressed a kiss onto his chest. It was wet with sweat and smelled of sex. I caressed his belly; it was damp too, slightly sticky. Sleepiness evaporating in a sudden cold rush, I swam back to the surface.
Damp
. No slippery wash of semen. My eyes snapped open. “Iain?”

“Mmm?”

“You didn’t come.”

His arm tightened around my shoulder. “I didn’t, love, no.”

“But…” I sat up. “Why not? What’s the matter?” I yanked the sheet away and stared in disbelief at his erect cock, the glans shiny, straining against its frenulum. “
Iain
?”

“Come here.” He pulled me down and kissed the top of my head. “I stopped myself coming.”

“But why? How the hell did you stop yourself coming?”

“After the pounding you gave me, you mean?”

“Well…”

“I can do it when I want to. Chris, listen. We got married but a marriage has to be consummated, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, I think it does. The way I see it, two men, well…how would it work for two men?” Under my cheekbone, his heart had taken on a rapid, thumping beat. After a moment, he said quietly, “They both fuck. They fuck each other.”

I smiled as I finally understood. “Yes.”

He rolled onto me and kissed me savagely, grinding my lips against my teeth. “Where’s the lube?”

“I don’t know, it’s here somewhere…”

“Better find it quick-smart, babe, because your husband is going to fuck you.” He reached his hand over my hip to my ass. “Fuck you forever.”

INTO THE DARK

D. K. Jernigan

T
his was the worst fucking idea,
ever
.” My headlamp illuminated Rick from behind, and I glared daggers at his back; not that he was paying any attention. Ahead of him, his own light only seemed to cut a small slice from the oppressive dark that closed in around us. “Cave hiking sucks. I want to go back.”

“I told you, I’ve done this before. Don’t be such a baby.”

So much for our big, romantic day off. With our demanding schedules, it was hard for Rick and me to coordinate time off together, and
this
was how we were spending the day? “We’re lost.”

“We’re not lost. I swear, I know where we are. Do you want me to show you on the map, again?”

“No, what I
want
is to go back!” We’d been walking through darkness for about an hour, the only illumination coming from the lamps mounted on our hard hats. Outside, it was a good ninety degrees, but in here the temperature plummeted, and I was already wearing the heavy coat Rick had insisted I bring. And “hike” was a bit of a misnomer, too. Sure, there was hiking. There was also scrambling over rocks, crouching in low passages and climbing up short rock walls. It was dark, it was scary and I was on the verge of seriously freaking out.

Ahead of me, Rick sighed. I could see the tension in his shoulders and took it as yet another sign that we were lost. And doomed. I kicked a small rock on the ground, and Rick winced as the
crack
of its impact with the wall echoed around us. He turned, carefully keeping the headlamp pointed down and away from my face, and I glared straight at him.

“This was stupid. We’re never going to get out of here.”

“No,” he said, with exaggerated patience. “We’re fine. We’re almost there. If you don’t like what I want to show you, we can go back. Okay?”

“Why can’t we just go back now?” I asked. Sure, I sounded petulant, but I was cold and tired and not a little freaked out. The cave felt like it was closing in on me, and the darkness was choking and stifling. I shuddered as I turned my head, trying to illuminate more of the cave, but the darkness swooping in behind the beam of light only made me feel worse. When I turned forward again, I saw that Rick had already started out ahead of me. I hurried to catch up, and resumed glaring at that tense spot between his shoulders, right above his backpack.

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it,” he said, as if he could feel my eyes on him. He passed around a rock column in the middle of the cave, and I followed, dragging my feet. At the end of the passage, the rock walls seemed to squeeze together, forming a narrow opening.

“No way. I’m sick of squeezing through little holes.”

“Turn your light off.”

“What? No! No fucking way. I want to go
back
.”

Rick turned and took my hands, and I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to resist being charmed or sweet-talked. It didn’t really work. “Mason, I need you to trust me, okay? What I want to show you is just on the other side of that hole. Please? For me?”

He’d been walking backward, pulling me toward the opening with each step, and I sighed dramatically as we reached it, and reached up to switch off the lamp. I could feel my face drain of blood as our light was cut in half, and Rick’s face was plunged into darkness. My heartbeat sped up and I started to tremble. This was the stuff of nightmares, buried beneath the earth under tons of rock, alone in the dark.

Or almost alone. Rick gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and turned off his own lamp, and I whimpered involuntarily as we were enfolded in the darkness. He pulled me gently forward, and I felt for the opening with my free hand, ducking to squeeze through the tight passage. Two steps, then the walls expanded and I could stand straight again. Not so bad, except for the dark.

And then Rick dropped my hand. I yelped in shock, but he murmured soothingly from just ahead of me. My fingers itched toward my headlamp, and I started a slow count to ten in my head. He had ten seconds, and then I was giving up on this bullshit and turning my light back on. Ten seconds… God, it felt like forever!