Page 2 of Midsummer Phoenixes
“Soyer.”
My shirt tore under his punishing grip.
“Yes, my heart?”
He pushed me toward the bed, his hand covering the phoenix on my chest, his mirror phoenix, the part of me that would always be his.
“You didn’t have to tear that off me,” I said, though I couldn’t help smiling.
“Agree to disagree.”
My calves came up against the bed, and I let myself drop backward. Soyer smiled like the Devil, his black eyes bright with excitement. I kept looking at him but crawled backward toward the headboard. Soyer let me, at least while he stripped. Him taking off first his shirt and then his pants happened fast. He was already hard, something which I had come to expect by now. Adore, even. It made me feel so special, knowing that he was hard for me.
“I need to pounce on you. I need to be all over you,” Soyer said.
“Oh, okay.”
He sighed. “I need to have you very badly, but you get to choose: me in you or you in me.”
He said that with the hungry kind of intensity he sometimes got, a lot of the time when he told me to run up the stairs or to the guest bedroom downstairs with the firm promise that he would make me cum wherever he caught me. Which he had done. Each time that he had promised.
Still, right in this moment, I froze up, and Soyer took a half step back. I wasn’t even sure why I froze, I just knew he noticed, was ready to pace himself, and I didn’t want that.
He opened his mouth, most likely to tell me that we could also cuddle if I preferred, but I held up my hand.
“No, don’t. We’re...fucking. You’re going to fuck me. But I think I’d prefer me in you if that’s okay?”
A slow smile stretched over his lips. “Technically, that means you’re going to be fucking me, Amory.”
“Ah. Technically.”
Which was when he got on the bed, fast, as if the gravity he exuded were reversed, as if I were the dead star pulling him in.
Our lips crushed together, rough, fast, hungry, but underlying that, softness, because the root both his and my desire sprang from was love. Between his kisses, he spent some time touching me, making sure I was hard, making sure I was good and ready.
He straddled me, looking down. I was pretty sure he liked that, having me underneath him. He was assertive, maybe even dominant, I knew that, but in so many ways, he wasn’t like the kind of dominant guy I’d read about in all the fiction novels.
He wasn’t as vampiric as most of them, but he also never wanted to domineer me. I cherished him for it. And I knew I was safe with him, always.
Done with his drinking in the sight of me, Soyer moved.
Without taking his eyes off me, Soyer reached for the unscented lube he preferred and started working on himself. I watched knowing he liked me watching. And the sight was...one of a kind, his muscles rippling and straining as he touched himself, his eyelids drooping slightly.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, his abdomen and thighs trembling as he moved his hips on his own fingers. “I should be filming you or taking pictures of you.”
I grinned. “Why, when you can have the real thing?”
I reached between my legs to touch myself—I just wanted to show him the real thing—but he didn’t like that. With a growl, he leaned forward again and grabbed my wrist.
“Amory, what do you think you are doing, hmm?”
“I just wanted, just wanted...to give you a show?”
He licked his lips, not quite smiling. “Is that right? You wanted to give me a show when I’m about to fuck you?”
“Technically,” I said, but then my voice turned into a quiver. He was touching my cock, playing with me, using his slick fingers to caress my balls. “Technically, I’ll be fucking you.”
“Amory. Amory, Amory. Why do you have to be so cheeky? Sweet men like yourself tend to get themselves into all kinds of trouble with their words and their slutty ways. As your boss, I absolutely need to do something about it.”
