Page 40 of Regret Me Not
When he got to the room, he paused to let his eyes adjust to the dark. And because he wanted to see Hal, legs splayed indecently, naked and vulnerable.
And for that night, his.
He undressed as quickly as he could, leaving his boxers up near his pillow to make them easier to find when they were done, and then, without saying a word, positioned himself between Hal’s knees.
He heard the little gasp that meant Hal felt him, and then ran his hands up and down Hal’s calves. Hal groaned softly, so Pierce followed through on the caress, behind the knees to his inner thighs. Pierce didn’t know anything about massage, but he did know about the wonders of skin against skin.
He ran both hands to Hal’s inner thighs, where he could run palms around the soft flesh of his legs and his thumbs down the juncture of leg and erogenous zone. When he extended the caress to part Hal’s asscheeks, Hal’s groan almost rocked him off the bed.
Pierce stretched out on his stomach, putting most of his weight on his good side, and bent his head, tracing a path with his tongue where his thumbs had been.
“Killing. Me.”
Hal’s voice, loud and demanding in the dark, startled Pierce badly enough to slip, face-planting with his mouth over Hal’s balls.
Disgruntled, he sucked one into his mouth, pleased when Hal’s feet came off the bed and he made a happy, turned-on sound.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Hal whispered. “No talking.”
Pierce sucked a little harder in acknowledgment and positioned himself again, this time with his hand on Hal’s thickening cock.
He licked a line between his fingers and his thumb—because there was a space between them, because damn. He got to the bell and played, excited because tonight was his turn. He widened his mouth and lowered his head, letting his lips barely brush the head, his tongue flutter around it, while his hot breath promised the cave of wonders wasright there.
Hal grunted and tried to buck but held himself back.
Pierce repaid him with a lick over the head, while his other hand fumbled for the lube bottle. Hal groaned, and Pierce gave another butterfly lick, and another, tasting precome.
“You know what that means,” Pierce whispered into the darkness.
“You want to swallow?”
Just hearing the words was dirty enough to make Pierce hard.
“Sure.” He tightened his mouth then and lowered his head, putting pressure all the way down to the root. Hal moaned and massaged Pierce’s scalp through his hair while Pierce wiggled on the bed and tried to remember his plan.
Oh yes.
Lubricant.
He one-handed the bottle while he worked, his weaker arm trembling for the seconds it took to make his fingers slick and snap the top back on.
But once that was done, he could explore, sliding his fingertips down the center of Hal’s warm cleft, finding the pucker in the center. A part of him yearned for sunlight and an entire day to make love, but most of him knew that his body had maybe a half an hour in it.
He would make it count.
He slid a fingertip inside and played the edge of Hal’s bell with his tongue and the very delicate edge of his teeth. Hal let out a deep shudder and hunched down on the finger, taking Pierce up to his second knuckle.
“Getting cheeky,” Pierce whispered, making sure his breath ghosted over the wet skin of Hal’s cockhead.
“Not. A. Virgin,” Hal graveled from a constricted throat.
Pierce grunted and took Hal’s cock all the way down to the back of his throat—and added another finger.
The sound Hal let out was not quite human.
Oh, he was tight. His ass clamped down hard on Pierce’s fingers, and Pierce thrust them in deeper and then pulled them out. Hal planted his feet farther apart and lifted his hips, giving Pierce free rein, and Pierce took it, lowering his mouth to the root and shoving his fingers in harder.
Hal moaned, shaking, and spurted just a little bit of pre.
