Page 6 of Surviving the Merge
By now the sun had set, and thunder rolled in to join the rain. The only light to be offered came from our fireplace. Blake removed his clothes, standing before me undressed in all his glory, wearing features that danced a fine line between beautiful and rugged: sensual pink lips, the top fuller than the bottom, a chiseled body and sun-kissed skin.
Mine.
Spreading myself out on the rug, touched by the warmth of the flames, the true heat came from him. Blake kissed and licked me from head tohead, and then head to toes. Every last one of them. The feel of his hands ever gentle but firm; my senses were on overload.
How long this continued, I couldn't say. But once I could no longer take it, I rolled onto my stomach and raised to my hands and knees, signaling for him to get inside me.
He placed a hand on my back; I followed the directive and lowered until my chest touched the soft surface beneath me.
I thought the kisses he then ran down my spine would be the death of me, until he got to the crease of my ass. Spreading me to full capacity, Blake proceeded to inhale me from testicles to tailbone like a man starved for air. He moved on to suck hard on the flesh near my hole. My tip leaked. A hickey in this area felt so dirty and depraved. I loved it. It felt like heaven. I told him so.
Blake made a courteous type of love to me for a time, and when we lay spent, wallowing in our spill, he gazed into my eyes and whispered, “More.”
Again, without thought, I answered, “Yes.”
Afterwards, temporarily sated, I sat upright on the floor between Blake’s spread legs, my back to his chest. I watched my finger run circles around his knee as his fingers ran through my hair. “Where have you been?” I asked.
Blake shifted behind me. “I went to see Dr. Stevens, then drove down to the house. Didn’t do much. Had drinks with Ash one night, but mostly, I needed some time alone to clear my head.”
The house he referred to was my childhood home in Chadwick, Oregon. The place my father and I moved to after my mother died. Chadwick was where I met Damon and, later on, Blake.
“Drinks with Ash,” I said sardonically. “Isn’t that nice? You leave me here for days without even a call, but you were in good enough shape to have drinks withAsh.”I immediately wished I could take back my words.
“Jesus, Justin,” Blake sighed. “He’s my best friend. And your friend too.”
His friend, yes. Mine? That could be debated. I had no doubt that Ash cared for me and I him. But I wouldn’t know the first thing about having a friendship. “I’m sorry. This is not how I wanted our conversation to start. This isn’t me—it hasn’t been me for years.” I faced him. “I’m glad you’re home.”
Blake’s eyes lost their hardness, and he pulled me into a kiss.
“How did your appointment with Dr. Stevens go? Are you opening up to him?” I asked.
“I tell him enough.”
“Blake—”
“Let’s go to bed,” he said, getting up. “I’m not done with you yet.”
* * *
We wereinseparable for the next three days. We ran together in the mornings, and Blake tagged along to my dance rehearsals, which usually went from sunup to way beyond quitting hours.
Once home, Blake would soak and massage the aches and knots from my bruised feet, and we’d order takeout from our favorite place and unwind in front of the fireplace with a bottle of wine. That’d been our routine, and while he insisted that the office could survive without him for a few days, I knew our time within our bubble would soon end. It came as no surprise when it did, screechingly.
“I have to be back in the office tomorrow for a meeting with a potential investor.”
“What’s the point of being the boss if you can’t do what you want?”
“I love it when you pout.” He leaned in to run his tongue over my bottom lip.
“I don’t pout,” I said indignantly.
“Yes, you do. You’re still doing it,” he laughed.
I secured his growing erection in my grasp, effectively shutting him up. “Oh, but the things these full lips can do.” I stroked him from root to tip. Declaring with a seriousness that made both his eyes and nostrils flare, “Mine.”
Oddly enough, the surge of my proprietary claim ignited my other hunger. I warred with a need to be loved gently, revered, honored, and treated as an equal. But also craved to be ravaged, debased, forced, and controlled.
Resigned, knowing that I’d need to feed my other appetite and soon, I remained in the moment, taking pleasure in the giving of it.
