Page 30 of The Mechanics of Lust

This timeI’dbe the one in charge.

But the second Luke’s mouth turned up in that wolfish grin of his, I felt the vague stirrings of unease and knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“And good evening to you too.” He smiled down at me.

“Shut. Up.” I pressed three fingers to his lips and he fell quiet. Then I kicked his legs apart to get that ten-centimetre height difference out of the way and he acquiesced readily, looking intrigued and more than a little turned on.

He licked his lips. “You want me, Zach?” He leaned forward until my fingers were sandwiched between his lips and mine, teasing his tongue along the pads, dipping between the spaces to flick on and off my lips. “I’m all yours. Any which way you want to do this. Tell me what you want.”

I almost laughed, mostly because this wasn’t how things usually went in my limited experience with men. Holden had mostly taken charge of things between us, which hadn’t bothered me in the least. I was happy to tag along. But I wanted something different from Luke. He’d gotten under my skin in a way Holden never had. Holden was the safe and steady harbour. Luke was... well, not that. Luke felt uncomfortable and raw and far too dangerous to just hand myself over.

“Be careful what you ask for.” I pressed our bodies flush together and there was no hiding how very,veryon board Luke was with me being there, our two cocks plumping to do battle between us. A hand slid around my waist and under my shirt, trailing fire over my hot skin, while mine circled his throat, pressing his head to the side so I could run my tongue up his neck and across his cheek. Then I turned him to the other side and licked my way back down.

“Damn, that feels good.” He groaned and thrust against me, his leg moving so he could grind more efficiently. His fingers found the waistband of my jeans, but the belt stopped him from dipping under and he grunted in frustration.

I smiled against his cheek and pulled back to look at him. “Going somewhere?”

“Get them off.” He tugged at the large silver buckle, but I slapped his hand aside.

“Not so fast.” And with my fingers still loosely closed around his throat and holding him against the wall, I studied his flushed cheeks and those pupils blown all to hell, his breathing ragged in my ears. Exactly how I’d pictured this going in my head.

“Kiss me.” Luke pushed against my hold, but I kept my grip solid and he stilled. “I’ve waited a year to taste you. I’m dying here.”

All I did was smile, even though I wanted nothing more than to do just that. To kiss him. To feel him under, over, and around me. I wasn’t too picky. To run my tongue through his mouth and have him desperate for more. I loved kissing almost more than sex itself, and just the thought of how close I was to having that withhimsent a river of nerves through my belly.

Because there’d be no going back.

One kiss and it was all on.

We both knew it.

I nudged our noses together, and he groaned. “Jesus, Zach.”

I brushed my lips over his, whisper soft, and his eyelids fluttered closed.

The tip of my tongue traced across the seam of his lips, and he sighed and opened for me.

I hovered my open mouth over his, almost touching but not quite, and he drew my breath into his lungs, then released it on a long shuddering sigh.

And then I kissed him, his plush lips yielding to the pressure, so soft, so hungry, so fucking perfect.

His arm tightened around my waist and my tongue swept into his mouth, savouring the combined hit of beer and salt and a flavour uniquely his. Nothing had ever tasted better.

A groan barrelled up my throat as Luke deepened the kiss and crushed me to him. Our tongues tangled and his hands found their way up to cup either side of my head, his fingers threading through my hair and fisting to hold me in place. The slight sting went straight to my balls and I thrust against him.

He moaned and flipped our positions, pulling off my lips to kiss down my throat as he ground against me. I gasped and the back of my head hit the wall as I hooked a leg around his thigh to improve the angle, and every cell in my body lit up.

“Fucking hell,” he huffed into my open mouth. “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.” He covered my mouth with his, that wicked tongue thrusting deep as he fumbled around my belt buckle once again before growling, “Jesus Christ, this thing is like fucking Fort Knox.”

“Let me.” I shoved him off and undid the buckle. He immediately yanked it free of the loops and made as if to throw it away. I grabbed his hand. “Hey. That’s a Stef Hamilton original.”

He snorted. “I don’t care if it’s a bloody Van Gogh.”

I laughed and dropped the belt gently on the carpet runner while Luke set to unbuttoning my jeans. He shoved both them and my briefs down my legs, and I kicked off my shoes and stepped free.

He drew a sharp breath and ran a finger up the length of my rigid cock. “Hell yeah. Now we’re talking.” His eyes met mine and he grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and slipped it over my head, muttering, “I’m negative, by the way. I can show you if you want.”

“Me too,” I huffed impatiently. “And no, it’s fine.” It struck me how much trust that implied, but oddly, I did trust him, about that much at least.

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