Page 21 of Christmas in Paris
“No one will know if you come back to bed with me,” Ray whispered, hoping that he was tempting him at least a little. This sort of behavior was sort of out of character for him, but then, he had to admit, to himself, at least, that he had never wanted anyone like he wanted Simon. “The door is locked, and the curtains are closed. I know we have to be careful during the day, but can’t we at least have the nights?”
He would go away if Simon turned him down. Even if Simon just stayed silent, he would have to go. But just when he thought that he had gone too far, that Simon had maybe even been glad to have the excuse to distance himself from him, that was the moment when Simon rolled on top of him and kissed him as if his life depended on it.
“We shouldn’t,” Simon was saying, as he kissed Ray over and over again. “Nancy’s room is next door.”
That was a thing that Ray hadn’t known, and which was good to know, but which didn’t change his mind in the slightest.
“Then we’ll have to be really, really quiet,” he murmured, parting his legs so that Simon could slip between them. Their hips brushed together, and Ray was delighted when he felt how hard Simon was. By some miracle, it seemed like Simon had missed him as much as Ray had missed Simon. But then, the problem between them had never been lack of sexual tension.
He rolled his hips, seizing Simon’s lips in another kiss as he rubbed suggestively against him. As long as they kept kissing, it should be pretty easy to keep from getting too loud. He slid his fingers through the soft strands of Simon’s hair, letting their legs tangle together.
They both slept wearing nothing but underwear, so that was all that separated them now. Ray had been determined to get Simon back into bed with him, but he had forgotten all about that for the moment. There was this extra intensity that was in every movement, simply because they had to be careful. There was someone hostile in the next room, and she must never suspect a thing.
The danger was exciting. Or maybe it was just being so close to Simon after being so sure he wouldn’t get to touch him again. Or maybe it was a mixture of everything, but whatever it was, Ray felt like he was drowning in it. He couldn’t get enough, humping up against Simon, every movement giving him friction that was so deliciously pleasurable it almost hurt.
He had been so cold just a few minutes ago. Now Ray felt like he was burning up, in the best way possible. He locked his arms around Simon’s body and let them rock together. Their lips never parted—little moans and gasps of pleasure more felt than heard. He was going insane, but if that was true, he was happy to go there as long as Simon kept rocking with him.
“Wait, hold on, stop,” Simon whispered, and Ray had promised himself that if Simon told him to stop, he would. He gave him a plaintive look, but he stilled his hips. He had been getting close, and he was sure that he was a mess, but it was hard even to care, as aroused as he was.
“I want to try something,” Simon explained, and relief rushed through Ray’s body at that statement. It didn’t even matter that much what Simon wanted to try, as long as they didn’t have to stop fully. “But it’ll work better on the bed.”
The whole thing appealed to Ray’s sense of adventure, to the point where he was almost cheerful about it as he and Simon pulled apart from each other. He rushed over to the bed and lay down on it, waiting impatiently for Simon to join him and wrapping himself around him the moment that he was there.
“What do you want to do?” Ray asked, barely audible, and it was so dark that he could only just see Simon’s little smirk in return.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, and Ray considered that carefully. He could count the list of people he trusted on the fingers of one hand, but a little to his surprise, Simon was one of them. So he nodded, albeit a bit slowly. It made him a bit nervous, but he was also sure that Simon would never do anything to hurt him.
It was a bit of a shocking realization. Why did the one person who had gotten to Ray have to be someone he couldn’t have? The idea of settling down with Simon wasn’t that scary, because he knew that Simon would never really make him settle down.
“Then close your eyes, and if you want me to stop, then I’ll stop,” Simon promised. Immediately, Ray dropped his eyes shut, breathless with nerves and excitement and sure, really, truly positive, that no matter what this was, it was going to be good.
With his eyes squeezed shut, all he could sense were the tiny, furtive little movements that were all that Simon made. At least until he felt his boxer-briefs being lowered, the air cool against his straining, aching, leaking erection.
The whole thing was somehow deeply erotic, more than he would have ever expected, just from not having his sight. He could open his eyes at any time, but keeping them closed kept him from knowing what was going to happen so that he was living entirely in a state of anticipation. He could focus entirely on the slick fingers, which rubbed down his shaft, over his balls, and when his legs were pushed apart, he let it happen.
It felt like he was floating in a sea of darkness, with Simon as his only anchor. And he had been the one in charge, the one who always had to know what was going on, for the better part of two decades. It was beyond intoxicating just to let whatever was going to happen, happen. To relax and live only in the moment.
Clever, deft fingers slid between the cheeks of his ass, and Ray shuddered and almost let out a moan, only barely stopping himself. There was this perfect balance going on, intensity and lack of speed building up into something entirely new and overwhelming. And all with the need to maintain utter silence.
He almost lost it, almost let out a noise, when Simon slipped a slick finger between the cheeks of his ass and found the entrance to his body. No one had touched him there. Not ever. So he was completely unprepared for what that sensation would be on the sensitive tissue there.
“Is this okay?” Simon barely breathed the words, so that even in the silence of the night, the chances of anyone hearing were negligible. “If you want me to stop, tap my shoulder.”
Ray didn’t open his eyes, but he did smile.
“It’s okay,” he murmured back. And it was—more than okay. He wouldn’t have stopped this for anything in the world. Simon started to work his finger at his hole, but even so, it took him a while to realize just what was going on, what Simon had been talking about when he had said that he wanted to show Ray something.
Ray was being prepared because Simon was going to take him. And that was just fine with Ray. He wouldn’t have stopped it for anything. Even though he had never had it before, and even though he knew he should probably be nervous, he was so far beyond that at this point.
One slick finger was slowly, inch by inch, worked inside of him, and he couldn’t have expected how it would feel when it brushed against his prostate. He whimpered, just softly, and then put his hand over his mouth to keep the sounds from spilling out.
It was just that he hadn’t known anything could be so good.
“Ray?” Simon prompted, and Ray cautiously pulled his hand away so that he could speak. Simon needed his consent, and he could understand and respect that, but he wanted to give it to him in no uncertain terms.
“Do it,” he urged and then let his eyes open as he felt the bed shift, Simon moving on top of him. His legs were pressed open, and then, at last, he felt the blunt head of Simon’s erection, sheathed in a condom, nudging against the entrance to his body. He kissed Simon, knowing that he was going to need to stifle his noises more than ever, and locked his legs around Simon.
His mind was blank, except for desire. There was no doubt in his mind about what he wanted, and that was so incredibly freeing.
