Page 42 of Elixir of Strife
“Fuck, Leon,” he said, voice shaky, torso quaking with little tremors. “Nobody ever pays attention to me there.”
“Their loss.” I glanced up at him, studied the beautiful, dark fan of his lashes, knew that his eyes were rolling behind those lids. I licked again, watched as he clenched his teeth, not quite wincing, not quite grinning, either. “They didn’t know what they were missing. You’re like putty in my hands right now.”
His chin lowered like he was about to address me, his lashes fluttering, eyes never opening because his body was on fire. “Get over yourself,” he muttered unconvincingly.
I tweaked his other nipple with my free hand even as I licked blazing circles around the one already hard and budding in my mouth. A tortured groan ripped out of Max’s throat, the shower stall clattering as he fought to stay on his feet. I smiled to myself and chalked it up as a win. I needed to move on before Max brought the entire bathroom crumbling down on our heads.
One last, long lick, and my lips finally left his skin. His eyes finally opened, too, confused, wet with indignation. Not five seconds and he already wanted more. I laved my tongue along the vein that traveled up the bulge of his bicep, followed it over the curve of his shoulder where it veered toward his collarbone, his powerful neck.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” Max sank against the wall and moaned. “I might taste better if you’d let me shower first.”
I sucked wetly on the side of his throat, pressed a kiss against his jaw. “I like how you taste now.”
He stared me full in the face, eyes clouded with want, a smile of hopeful disbelief on his lips. “You’re a dirty boy, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
I moistened my lips as I looked down at him, wondering where else I could taste, allowing my eyes to travel down the length of his perfect body. And down there, sprouting thick and long from his dark bush, his cock stared back at me, practically upright in attention. The hugeness of him should have made the angle impossible. I couldn’t feel more flattered.
Max placed one foot forward, his cock wavering temptingly, threateningly between us. “You see how hard you made me?”
With a delighted grin, my teeth biting into my lower lip, I reached forward. “That’s fucking incredible.”
I ran the tip of my finger along the seam of his cock, spreading and at once smearing that beautiful, thick bead of fluid over his head. Max gritted his teeth, holding back a moan that nearly sounded like a strangled cry. I brought my finger to my mouth, sucked on the slick wetness.
“So dirty.” He wrinkled his nose, but when he shook his head, all I could see was his barely concealed awe. “Fucking filthy.”
I leaned in for a kiss. His lips parted, eyes shut before I even made contact. It took all I had not to laugh fully into his mouth. I traded the taste of him against his tongue, nipped at his lip, pulled away again. He lunged after me, still thirsty, and breathless. I held him back with one hand, marveling at the iron-hard strain of his muscles.
“Do you like how you taste?” I asked.
In a hoarse, breathless rasp, he answered. “I do.”
Not a lot of men I’d been with would have let me explore them like this, examine their bodies with worshipful intent. To be fair, not a lot of men I’d been with seemed worthy of the honor. It tickled me, deep inside, knowing that Max was being so generous, letting me have my wicked way with his body.
But I knew his patience was running thin.
The shower knob squeaked. Cold water blasted my body. I yelped.
“What the — Max! I wasn’t finished.”
“Oh,” he said, elbowing me into a corner of the shower, taking the spray of water for himself. “You’re finished. You got me super hard. You keep teasing me any longer, I’ll bust so hard that we’re both going to drown in here. And I knew you were going to try and suck me off, too. No. Bad Leon. Not when I’m all grubby like this.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, staring at him sullenly. Maybe next time. But this was fantastic, too, watching the water travel in rivulets down the curve of his spine, to that alarmingly perky ass, his soapy hand parting those luscious cheeks as he washed himself.
Max was already a specimen with his clothes off, but soaking wet? Mercy. It wasn’t only the water getting hotter in there. He plodded in a circle, letting the shower wash off his back as he soaped his crotch, under his arms, the dip in his chest. The important parts, mainly.
He sighed in pleasure, water dripping from the end of his chin. He blinked his eyes hard, squeezing away the water before fixing me with a steely gaze.
“Well? Are you just going to stand there with your dick in your hand?”
Fuck. I actually was doing exactly that, stroking myself slowly. I was jerking off to the sight of Max and his glistening perfection. This was hotter than any fantasy, than any porn I could imagine. My cheeks and my chest had the nerve to flare up with heat, as if there could be anything more embarrassing.
He pulled on my arm gently, the two of us under the water this time, but not so close that I couldn’t admire his body. Sculpted like a Greek god, broad shoulders and narrow waist, a strong chest, insane washboard abs. And that cock. Oh, God, that cock.
“You’re allowed to touch me, you know.”
I didn’t answer, running my hand over and under the obscene nooks and crannies of his body, savoring the way my fingers and palm glided across the smoothness of his wet skin. And with the other hand I kept stroking, unafraid, unashamed to let Max know that he was the ideal subject in all of my deepest, darkest fantasies.
