Page 36 of The Shadow of the Count
Those clever fingers worked off Donnie’s jacket, then his shirt, baring him to Peter’s touch and gaze.
“I’ve dreamed about you, love. Please. I need to lie with you.” Peter had never been so straightforward, so sure. If nothing else, this whole situation had proven that they needed to spend what time they had together, not apart.
“Yes. I need it too. I have oil. The kind you like.”
“Good. The bed, Don.” Peter drove him back until he hit the bed, and then Peter knelt to skim off Donnie’s pants and shoes. When Peter looked up and kissed the base of his prick, his knees went weak.
“Please.” He stroked Peter’s hair, his cheek, then his lips, before guiding that hot mouth over the tip of his cock. “Such perfect heat.”
Humming, Peter slid down, sucking him, and the almost tentative lover from before they’d gone their separate ways was gone. Peter knew what he wanted and was taking it.
He couldn’t have hoped for more, and he watched Peter, willing his eyes to stay open and see more.
“You came back to me,” he whispered, and he wasn’t sure whether he said it out of shock or pure happiness. Honestly, he didn’t care. He felt both emotions and he deserved to experience them both.
Peter looked up at him, dark eyes so full of emotion. He could almost feel all the things Peter couldn’t say right now. He knew them in his heart. His Peter.
Going down as far as he could, Peter sucked and licked and swallowed, making him shout. He knew no one would hear, and if they did, they would pretend they had not.
His heart was sore, and this was the only thing that would heal him.
Donnie tried to lean and grab the oil, but Peter pulled him back, slipping off his cock long enough to scold. “Just feel me, love. Let me have this. Give you this.”
“Yes. Of course, Peter. Of course.” He reached down and stroked the sandy hair away from Peter’s forehead so he could watch as his lover adored him.
Peter bobbed up and down, lips and tongue caressing him, and his balls drew up, his belly pulling in. He was stunned at how good this felt, and what Peter was doing to him.
“I missed you too,” he whispered. “Peter, please.”
Peter blinked at him for a moment, then sucked harder, one hand coming up under his balls to press them against the base of his cock.
“Peter!” He went up on tiptoe, thrusting into the heated, wet mouth.
Then Peter swallowed again, taking him so deep he could feel every motion of Peter’s throat, and he couldn’t bear it. Donnie cried out, spending himself hard, letting Peter have him.
His entire world grayed out, and he slumped to the bed as soon as Peter let him go.
“Love.” Peter kissed his thighs before sliding up into the bed with him. “I’m so sorry I left.”
“I forgive you. We didn’t know. We couldn’t have known.”
“No.” Peter wrapped around him. “I missed you so.”
He held his lover close, rocking Peter, unsure if he was offering comfort or taking it.
“I have you, love. I really do.” Peter stroked his hair back off his forehead.
“What happened out there, Peter? What happened to you?” He simply didn’t understand how all of this had occurred, dragging them all into hell.
“When I arrived, it was unusual, but he was an old man, so I didn’t think much of it, but then…”
“An old man?” He pulled back to look at Peter. “What do you mean?”
“Old. Snow white hair, rheumy eyes, lined cheeks. He could barely walk.” Peter shuddered. “It was like he’d been dried out, a husk of a person.”
“Damn it. Where did you get the recommendation to go work for him again?”
Peter rested their foreheads together. “A scholarly mentor gave me a journal with an ad. I thought he was legitimate because of it, but Yvgeny says he has a network of people who work for him. Like your man in the asylum.”
