Page 47 of The Mechanics of Lust

“Pass me your phone.” He snapped his fingers and I slapped my phone into his hand. He switched on the flashlight, got it shining where he wanted, and set it against a pillow. “Now, hold still.”

I did as I was told and Zach began painstakingly removing every single prickle, the tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his gaze focused and intent. Wearing nothing but miles of bare skin, a ton of bruises and teeth marks, and those intriguing splashes of freckles all painted in shades of grey in the wash of moonlight that lit the room, Zach looked so young, so lovely, so... bewitching, and I was charmed in a hot second. Not to mention, there was something tender and ridiculously intimate about the whole process, as if the act of prickle removal somehow meant more than the sex I’d initially raced down for, and I was reminded that I was in real trouble with this man.

I dragged my eyes off Zach to take in the small bedroom. It was simply furnished, courtesy of Miller Station, no doubt. A small dresser stood at the end of the bed alongside a full-length mirror—the source of the pic he’d sent me, no doubt—and a dozen or so items hung in an otherwise glaringly empty closet. Then again, Zach had never struck me as a clothes horse.

Two towering stacks of books teetered against the wall beside the window. I couldn’t read all their spines, but there was a mix of thriller fiction and historical non-fiction. On the bedside table, a weighty tome on the pyramids of Ancient Egypt was littered with bookmarks, and another on Scottish clan battles lay face down and open on top.

Colour me surprised. I glanced back at Zach who was still busy with my feet and tried to align this all-country boy with his choice of bedtime reading. Tried and failed. Which only intensified his allure. I was about to say something about the books when he looked up and caught me staring. He must’ve seen something in my expression because his smile stuttered for a second and a wariness crept into his eyes.

“Pretty sure that’s the last of the buggers.” He got to his feet with his half-hard cock bobbing enticingly and handed me back my phone.

“Now there’s a sight.” My gaze raked over his body and he relaxed, shooting me a filthy smile.

“Is that so?” He sauntered around the bed and stood beside me. “Let’s even things up.” He bent over to undo my jeans and my hand slid up the back of his thighs to cup his very naked, very warm arse. He hummed in approval and turned his hips in invitation, his cock plumping further.

I pushed up to lick across the slit, drawing a hiss of appreciation.

“Hold that thought.” He pushed me back down and tugged at my jeans. “Lift up.”

I did as I was told and in seconds, Zach deposited my jeans on the floor and then crawled onto the bed and straddled my thighs, working the buttons on my shirt until he could shove it off my shoulders. I wriggled free and then pulled him down on top of me.

“Mmm, much better.” I nuzzled into his neck and he ground down into me.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t text,” he grumbled as he kissed up my throat.

“So, how’s that working out for you?” I murmured against his lips as I slid a finger into his crease and over his hole.

He gasped. “Argh... fuck... how do you think it’s working out?” He reached over me and into his bedside drawer, then dropped lube and a condom on the bed.

“Definitely in my favour.” I grabbed the lube and slicked my fingers before returning them to his crease. When the tip of one slipped inside, he hoisted up his thigh to give me room and a filthy groan rumbled up his throat.

“I hate that you can do this to me,” he grunted between my finger thrusts.

“Do what?” I added a second finger.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He clenched around me, then circled his hips and drew me deeper. “This,” he hissed, arching his back, and slamming down until I was two knuckles deep. “Make me so hot for you that I can’t think clear—oh god, right there!”

I crooked my finger again and he groaned and dropped his mouth to mine, plunging his tongue inside, once, twice and then he was back to watching me from above with those wild green eyes, his auburn waves tumbling in the weak moonlight as he rode my hand until I was so hard I thought I could come from the sight of him getting off on my fingers alone.

And then he pulled right off and my hand fell to the sheet. “Move up. We’re almost off the bed.” He slapped my hip and I scooted up the mattress until my head hit the wall.

I shoved a pillow under my head and Zach ripped the condom from its packet and rolled it down my aching length. Then he applied lube, lots and lots of lube.

I grinned. “You need another tube?”

He looked like he might be considering it, then flipped me off. “Fuck you.”

I laughed and drew him up for a kiss. “Not by the look of it. Lucky me.”

He huffed. “You bloody are, considering I’m still aching from last night.”

“Nothing a little practice won’t fix.”

He snorted. “We’ll soon find out.”

I couldn’t help but kiss him again. It was like being with Jekyll and Hyde in the best possible way. When Zach let loose in bed, that quiet, wary guy I’d first met took a back seat to a confident, sexy-as-fuck, take-charge spitfire that simply took my breath away.

He straddled my thighs and winked. “I take it this position works for you?” He drew his pouty lower lip between his teeth and eyed me saucily.

---