Page 26 of Oliver

“Yes,” I reply. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure how you would feel about holding hands in public.”

Oh, sweet boy. That he’s thinking of me and wanting to make sure I’m comfortable and safe is so utterly endearing. “Can I kiss you?” I ask, and he leans into me, our lips brushing. His lips are warm and soft and utterly perfect. The way he grips my neck, tangling his fingers in the hair there, the way he moves his lips over mine, the soft caresses, sliding his tongue inside to taste me every now and again, it’s like nothing I’ve ever known before. His kisses are sensual, addicting. He kisses me like I deserve to be kissed, to be appreciated, to be savored. I’ve never had a kiss make me feel safe and worshiped at the same time, until him.

We kiss a while longer, before I sigh and run my fingers through his wet hair. “Why don’t we go shower and change?” I suggest. “Then I’ll make dinner.” He nods and we head back inside.

Nine

HUNTER

Unfortunately the shower in the RV isn’t even close to big enough for both of us, so I let Oliver go first and then shower while he works on supper. It starts raining shortly after I step out and towel off, and I love it. I’ve always found rain to be soothing, and curling up with a meal, a good book, or a tv show while it’s coming down outside is one of my favorite ways to relax. That or a good nap. The pitter patter of the rain always seems to lull me to sleep.

I can’t help but be slightly disappointed when Oliver is no longer wearing his speedo. He looked so fucking sexy in it and I can’t wait to get it on him again. He is looking awfully cozy and adorable in the sweats and T-shirt he’s wearing now, though. He’s slipping on oven mitts and opening the oven door when I come out of the small bathroom, and his gaze catches on me as I wander through the RV naked, in search of my clothes.

“Jesus, you’re going to cause a permanent injury if you keep that up,” he grouses.

“I’m fine,” I reply.

“I meant me,” he says. “I can’t focus on not burning myself while you’re…like that.”

I laugh as I slide my briefs on, then slip into a T-shirt and sweats as well. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more considerate next time,” I say, sliding up next to him as he closes the oven door and slips the oven mitts off. I press a kiss to his neck as he sets the timer, and he squirms.

“What’s for dinner?” I ask, slipping my arms around his waist and continuing to press kisses to his soft skin. God, he smells good.

He shivers against me. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” he says after a moment.

I chuckle again. “Dinner, baby, what’s for dinner?”

He moans softly as my hand slips under the front of his shirt and rests on his abdomen, fingers playing with the happy trail there, my lips brushing against his ear. I can see his cock thickening and beginning to tent his sweats.

“Food,” he replies, the word breathy, and I laugh softly.

“I have an idea of what we can do while we wait,” I murmur.

“Fuck.” He gasps as my fingers slip under the waistband of his briefs and his cock jerks. Some of his precum lands on my fingers and I use it to tease him, sliding my fingers along his shaft but not gripping. He moans and thrusts his hips, seaking friction. “Want something, beautiful?” I ask.

“Christ, you’re such a bellend,” he grouses. “Just bloody touch me.”

I laugh and then step back, my hand slipping out of his briefs, before I kneel behind him. “Hands on the counter, baby. I’m gonna eat you out until you're begging to come.”

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps as I pull his sweats down, and then slowly, slowly, kiss my way down his ass cheeks as I lower his underwear, before sliding them down his thighs and lettingthem fall to the floor as his legs quake. I grip his thighs and massage them before moving my hands up to his ass cheeks and continuing my ministrations, burying my nose in his crack and inhaling. I moan at the smell of him—gingerbread, vanilla, and sunshine.

“Christ,” he breathes.

“Mmmm,” I hum, drunk off his scent and the feel of soft skin against my face and hands. “God, Oli, I could touch you forever.”

He trembles at my words and it’s fucking delicious. I nibble a couple more times on his ass cheeks, kneading them in my hands before I spread his cheeks and slide my tongue over his taint. He bucks and cries out, and I have to grip him and hold him in place. “Stay still, baby,” I tell him gently. “Make all the fucking noises you want, but don’t move. Understand?”

He nods and I spread his cheeks again as I feel his body tensing, his grip on the counter tightening, no doubt. I lick up his taint and over his hole again, savoring the sensation of his perfect bud fluttering against my tongue. “So fucking eager,” I murmur, then make another pass. “So fucking ready to be filled.” Another swipe of my tongue, slow and languid. “To be used. You want that, Oli?” Another pass. “You want to be fucked with my tongue, baby? Want it buried inside you? Want me to make you feel good?”

“Shit,” he whimpers, his body trembling as his hole flutters incessantly. I hear the way his next word leaves, on a broken plea, and I can tell he’s crying. “Please.”

“Good boy,” I say, and I hear his muffled sobs. “Shh,” I soothe. “You’re doing so well for me, Oli. You’re gonna come so hard for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He nods. “Since I can’t speak while I’m inside you I’ll tap your thigh to give you permission to come.” He nods again, and I spread his cheeks once more, this time sliding my tongue over his pucker and then slipping it inside his hole. I feel his body spasming around me asI move my tongue inside him, hearing his whimpers and cries of pleasure as I eat him out.

“Oh, God, Oh, God, Oh, God. Fuck, Hunter, please,” he begs, and I soar. “Please let me come.”

I moan and tap his thigh, and seconds later I feel his ass clenching around my tongue, his thighs quaking, as his orgasm crashes into him.

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