Page 20 of Raising the Sun

I was of average size, so I wasn’t nervous in that regard, but being so raw and exposed in front of another person—especially someone way out of my league who wasn’t unaware of it either—had my knees feeling weak and wobbly.

“I knew you’d be a pretty boy,” he said, his voice thick with want, smile salacious. “I’ll bet you taste just as divine.”

To my utter humiliation, my cock throbbed against my stomach and a bead of precum dribbled from the tip, right in front of his face. My cheeks burned, and the look he shot me through his lashes was smugger than I’d ever seen him. It wasalso all the warning I got before he leaned forward, took every inch of me into his hot, wet mouth, and swallowed.

I saw stars.

My head thumped against the wall as my back arched, a hoarse moan tearing from my throat. The feeling was indescribable—electric, molten. It took everything in me not to fist his horns and buck upward, to chase that silken heat and seek relief from the tension already coiling at the base of my spine.

How was something so simple, so good? All he did was bump his nose to my pelvis and hold me there, all of me filling him, the tip grazing the ridges on the roof of his mouth, and it was the best I’d ever felt. Of course, he went ahead and proved that declaration rash by humming around me, the vibrations sending an extra jolt of pleasure straight to my balls, andfuuuuck me.

Forget the fucking stars. I’d never considered myself a pious man, but I sure as shite saw the pearly gates.

Ash drew back with a filthy laugh to lap at the now dripping slit, and the dual pressures snaking around the head of my dick was how I learned that his tongue was forked. It should have been alarming, a reminder of exactly who—orwhat—was sucking me off. But the way each point twitched and licked had me barrelling towards orgasm far too quick, the sensation boiling in my core, and I was too focused on not blowing my load like the fucking virgin I was to care.

I’dbarely had the chance to fully enjoy it, to savour what should have been a gradual build-up, a crawl not a race, and it was impossible to dial back.

Such an embarrassment.

My toes curled against the carpet, my muscles beginning to clench hard. It was too intense. Too much, too soon, emotion and pleasure swelling like a storm, and I couldn’t regain control over any of it, couldn’t calm the rise of anxiety, couldn’t hush the whisper nipping at my ear…

You’re not good enough.

“S-stop,” I said, my voice cracking, panic setting in. “Stop, I can’t… I…”

Ash withdrew instantly, taking his spit-slick mouth and skilled hands away without hesitation, and I wanted to kick myself. I hated the cold air that hit my sensitive skin. I hated losing the warm suction of his lips.

But most of all, I hated how he stayed kneeling on the ground as he peered up at me, a furrow between his brows.

“Are you—”

“I’m sorry,” I cut in, scrambling to tug my boxers up, cringing as the fabric fused with my wet dick.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Before Ash could respond either in words or expression, I retreated into my room, eyes fixed on the floor. “I, er… I have to get ready for work.”

Ash rose to his feet without flair or fuss, and I closed the door instead of making eye contact, like a coward, not willingto risk spotting even a smidge of ridicule on his face. Several beats passed while I stared at nothing, willing my heart to quit thundering, overwhelmed with the urge to go after him, to try again, but knowing it was too late.

I’d already fucked up.

I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the wood, and let out a defeated sigh.

Bloody idiot.

Chapter six

ISAAC

While the days passedin a mundane blur, each night I’d dreamt about Ash and his mouth and that robe he wore.That bloody robe. I’d seen him fully naked, but something about that silky fabric clinging to his body, showing only an outline of what lay underneath, was infinitely more erotic. I was like a Victorian gentleman being flashed an ankle. It was pathetic, and probably some sort of sign that I was woefully determined to ignore.

We hadn’t talked about that morning—I got major second-hand embarrassment even thinking about it. After standing with my head against the bedroom door for a solid ten minutes, beating myself up, I’d had a perfunctory wank before getting on with my day. I had busied myself at work until the only energy left in my tank when I came home was for eating and going to bed.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

It wasn’t that I’d activelytriedto avoid talking about it. I was just exhausted and preoccupied, and yeah, okay, maybe a little reluctant to bring it up, but only because I didn’t know what to say. Instead of making even more of a tit of myself, it was easier to keep my head down and focus every ounce of my attention on the shop.

Forgetting it had ever happened wasn’t an option, unfortunately. The plethora of visions and phantom sensations that plagued me every night made that impossible. Thankfully, those could be brushed aside while going through the motions and preparing myself for the crowds to flood through the doors.

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