Page 4 of Moaning Under the Mistletoe
“Rough, hard, fast. You’ll turn a man’s head with promises like that.” He winked, pushing lightly on the man’s chest, and as soon as the man gave him an inch of space, he sauntered to his desk, pulled out the little bottle of oil, then stripped off his pants and leaned over the desk, positioning himself so his cock hung in the air and his ribcage supported his body. Ass in the air, legs spread wide, hopefully welcoming.
“Fuck.”
“That’s the idea.” He wriggled a little and the man palmed his bare skin, sending a jolt through his body. “Oh yes, that’s the way. Fill me up.”
The man laid one hand between his shoulder blades, and then he kissed Oscar right on the tailbone. The unexpected placement of the kiss startled him, and he arched his back in reflex, which made the man hum—hopefully in appreciation—and when he licked him, Oscar babbled.
“Oh yes please. That’s incredible. Holy mother of goodness.”
“You like?”
“More please. Fuck me please.” He was gone from only a few touches and when he heard the bottle land on his desk again, he barely had time to relax as the man slid a finger inside him. “So good.” The man touched him on the spot inside that sent sensation spiralling through him and he wasn’t even sure what words he babbled now. Encouraging the man to do it. He was hard and aching and needed to be filled, and when the man pushed inside, he let out a noise somewhere between a scream and a groan. By God, this man was big. He was completely filled, and he loved it. Oscar squirmed under the man, trying to fuck himself on the man’s length, but the man held him down with that one hand pressed between his shoulder blades and the other holding his hip.
“Do you want me?”
“I do. I want you so much.” He’d never been with someone who checked so often, and it surprised him, given how much he was babbling and begging for it. He was hardly being subtle about needing this man to fuck him.
“Good.” The man thrust once. Too slowly. The slow slide past that spot inside him sent heat shooting up his spine and he moaned.
“More please. Harder. I want you.” Oscar reassured the man instinctually, and it worked as the man growled and then thrust hard and fast, over and over again until Oscar was completely out of his head with pleasure. He loved this so much. “You are so good. I want ... want everything you can give me.”
The man’s grip tightened—he’d leave bruises which Oscar appreciated—and then came with a roar, collapsing onto Oscar’s body. Being surrounded by him was exactly what Oscar needed and he came too, harder than he’d ever come before, uncaring that he’d probably made a mess on the floor underneath desk. Stars filled his vision and he squeezed his eyes shut because the intensity of it overwhelmed him. Every other time he’d done this, before this man, it’d been fun but meaningless, a way to figure out himself with mutual enjoyment. For some reason, one that he really didn’t want to think too hard about, this had been different. More. Was it simply because the man had responded so fiercely to being told he wanted him?
Chapter Three
Ambrose never did this. His affairs had always been carefully negotiated with discussions around protection from disease. He was too sensible to risk syphilis, or so he’d thought. All it had taken was a handsome man begging for it, and telling him that, yes, he absolutely wanted him. And he wasn’t even mad about it because this was one of the best encounters he’d ever had. He lay on top of Mr Mardin, his old friend’s nephew, and a rush of guilt prickled his skin. What an evening this had been.
“I didn’t know Ismail had a nephew.” His lips were beside Mr Mardin’s ear and he couldn’t resist brushing a few kisses over his skin.
“I didn’t know I had an uncle until recently.”
“Excuse me?” He wanted to stand up and demand Mr Mardin tell him the whole story, and then remembered that his initial impression was that he reminded him of someone. And he realised this man looked like Ismail would’ve when he was younger. He even had the same sparkle in his eyes. Ismail had been a grandfather type figure to him, and he couldn’t help but wonder what his old friend would have thought about him fucking his nephew. Then he decided he didn’t care because this beautiful man took his cock so wantonly and besides Ismail would likely have been amused by what he would’ve called ‘the most delightful gossip’.
“It was a surprise to me.”
“You’ve certainly landed on your feet.”
