Page 84 of Beautifully Complicated

My right hand finds the back of his head as his lips rove over my collarbone, his silky hair sliding through my fingertips as they clutch him to me.

“Love this beautiful cock of yours,” Kier mumbles as he continues to tease it without ever touching it. “How pink and smooth it is. How long and thick. And how it twitches when it wants my attention.” He draws circles around my nipples and gives them a firm pinch, watching in the mirror as my dick lurches in search of friction.

“Maoin,” I hum contentedly.

“That’s right, Leanbh. I’m yours.” He drags his hands down my torso, skirting over my hipbones to the top of my thighs and back again, studiously avoiding my shaft, which continues to strain for his touch.

Kier ignores it, with his hands anyway, which roam to my back and down my spine to knead my cheeks. His eyes remain glued to it, as if cataloging how it responds to the way he works my body.

Spoiler alert, it doesn’t matter how he touches me, my dick reacts.

One of those magic hands slides from my ass to cup my balls, rolling them around his palm and giving them the occasional tug. Sparks ping pong throughout my body as he massages my sac, and I find myself rocking my hips forward slightly to encourage the pull, that delicious tension a mini explosion of pleasure I feel all the way in my toes.

“Look at how sexy you are,” Kier whispers in my ear. “See how beautifully you move for me. The way your body moves under my hands.” One of said hands teases over the planes of my abs. “So desperate for me. Sinful.”

He’s right—not that I’m sexy or sinful per se—but that I’m desperate for his touch. I never seem to get tired of it. In fact, the more he gives me, the more I seem to want.

From that very first night, he seemed to glean how much I wanted to be touched, to be spoiled, and he makes a point to give me that. Even when I top, which is most of the time since that’s a more natural role for me, I don’t always want to take the lead. I’ve never specifically said that, but Kier senses it, and takes every opportunity to make me feel as treasured as I hope he feels in return.

Using a slight hand, he caresses me all over. Fingers trace around my nipples, under my pecs, down my obliques, leaving a trail of ecstasy in their wake. My feet may be planted on the floor, but I’m aroused to the point of weightlessness under his tender ministrations. It’s as if the only thing holding me to the earth is Kier’s hands, and the pleasure they elicit as they travel every inch of my exposed skin.

“Love how you’re both hard and smooth.” He sucks my collarbone hard enough to leave a mark. “And how your skin turns nice and pink for me.” I feel a gentle kiss cover the bruise he left.

“I love your hands on me.”

“I know,” he whispers as his fingers dip lower, brushing through the hairs at the base of my dick. Predictably, my cock tries to riot with him so close, which makes him chuckle.

“So desperate.” He takes it loosely in his fist, giving it a long, leisurely tug.

My head is suddenly too heavy to hold up, falling to rest on his shoulder as I let out a heavy sigh.

I could spend eternity with Kier’s hand gently stroking my dick.

“Eyes open, Leanbh. Watch me play with your cock.”

Using strength I’m surprised I have in the midst of such pleasure, I pick my head off Kier’s shoulder and watch us in the mirror.

The top half of my cock pokes out of his fist, flushed with arousal, while the bottom portion is obscured by the fingers gently massaging it. As he moves his hand forward, the tip gradually disappears, pulling a stilted moan from my throat.

He repeats the motion again, and again, the torturously slow glide of his hand igniting tiny fissures of electricity all along my length. But those fissures are just a tease, coaxing the nerves into awareness without letting the full scope of pleasure take hold. And as much as I love the tender caress, I want more.

My hips alternately press forward, chasing his hand, and push back, rubbing my ass against his full cock.

“Patience, Leanbh.” Kier sucks another mark into the base of my neck. “I’ll give you what you want when I’m done with this pretty cock.”

I know better than to rush my boyfriend—it only makes him toy with me even longer—but I’m used to looking down my body to watch him stroke my dick, and seeing him do it in the mirror is a new level of erotic.

Kier’s right hand continues to wander my body while the left pumps my length, tweaking my nipples, teasing my abs, massaging my sac, all of which have me moaning contentedly. Yet when his finger finds my pucker, that moan turns noticeably more carnal.

“This is what you want?” He nips my earlobe.

“Yes.”

“Me, too. Stay here.”

A tiny mewl passes through my lips as he releases me to grab the lube he keeps in the shower. When he returns he takes my cock in his left hand again while the slick fingers of his right start probing my entrance.

My body jolts, unsure of whether to chase the hand on my dick or the one trying to fill me. Both offer indescribable pleasure, and the sight of my pelvis rocking as my body struggles with which to choose only heightens my arousal.

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