Page 43 of Enticing the Elf
Huffing, I give him a wry look. “It’s not a waste if it makes things easier for you. I can take care of it when I clean your place. Is there anything else you want done, or that bugs you?”
Slowly, he shakes his head, the softness in his gaze telling me I’m winning points. “Let me think about it and get back to you. There are better things we can be doing right now than talking about cabinets.” He comes forward and fastens Elsking’s leash to her collar, then takes her from me, bending to croon about how lucky she is that he’s not the jealous type. Grinning, I grab the bag of snacks and follow them outside.
It doesn’t take long for us to get to the park, and at this time on a Saturday evening, it’s deserted. The kids who use the playground equipment have gone home, and it’s too early for the older teens who use it as a make-out and hangout spot. They like to wait for full darkness.
We settle on a grassy spot that’s still faintly warm from the day’s sun. Dáithí and I lie back and kick off our shoes and socks, and Elsking explores the area within the reach of herleash, periodically returning to nibble at our fingers. Above us, the sky is slowly darkening from the brilliant cerulean of the day through shades of indigo. Only the brightest stars are visible just yet—though, I think that might actually be a planet. I don’t know enough about this dimension to be sure.
“I should learn about the astronomy here,” I muse. “I keep meaning to, but there always seems to be something else to do.”
Dáithí’s hand brushes mine, and then he twines our fingers together. “Same. The stars are pretty, though. I missed seeing the night sky when the anomalies got bad.” He pauses. “It’s different here, but I think it’s better that way.”
“Mm.” I know what he means. If the night sky was the same as it had been back home, it would have just made the fact that we lost everything else more painful. I tighten my fingers in his.
He seems to understand, squeezing back. “Thank you for today,” he murmurs. “It was perfect.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “I’m glad.”
We lie there for a while, thinking our own thoughts but somehow keeping each other company, and just when I’m beginning to feel hungry, Dáithí sits up and grabs the snack bag. He coos at Elsking and offers her something—probably the lettuce I put in for her—then leans over me with a bunch of grapes in his hand.
“Open,” he says quietly, and I open my mouth and let him feed me grapes, one at a time. He alternates between giving them to me and eating them himself, propped on an elbow beside me, and I keep my eyes on his face. The faint smile as he takes care of us both feeds my soul.
Eventually, the grapes are gone, and Dáithí sits up again. I’m half expecting him to offer me water next, but instead I feel his hands at my waist and then the night air on my cock as he frees it.
“Dáithí—”
“Shh. I’m still hungry, Eoin.”
I huff and prop myself up on my elbows so I can see him bent over my rapidly hardening dick, which doesn’t care about the law or modesty. “We’re in a public place.”
His hair falls into his eyes as he glances at me. “It’s dark, and nobody’s here. Trust me.”
Our gazes hold for another few seconds, and then I lie back down in tacit assent, waiting for whatever he does next.
Which is to lick the head of my dick. “Mmm,” he murmurs. “You taste better than grapes ever could.” He sets to work tormenting me. There’s no other way to describe the way he licks and lightly nibbles when I want—when heknowsI want—a firm touch. He does this sometimes, edging me until I can’t remember my own name. I wish I could say I hated it.
With my pants still on, he doesn’t have a lot of room to work, but he’s wrapped his hand around the base of my cock, and it grounds me as his lips and tongue lavish attention on the rest, the butterfly touches and phantom kisses merging with the cooling evening air and the darkness that envelops us to send me into a hazy, sensation-filled dream state. I stare up at the icy pinpricks that are the stars as little shocks of pleasure race through my body, my muscles slowly becoming tighter as my breathing begins to race and hitch.
And then Dáithí’s hot mouth swallows me and my vision whites out.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dáithí
I’m notsurprised to look up and see all four members of Team Bro gathered around my desk midafternoon on Monday. What does surprise me is that it took them this long to make an appearance.
“Oh, yay. Just who I wanted taking up my space.”
“You’re so mean,” Hagen says, but it’s not a complaint. “No wonder Eoin’s crazy about you.”
I refuse to encourage him by smiling. “Did you need something? Because last time I checked, we allworkhere.” If any of them tries to suggest?—
“Since Brandt and the king are involved, the Summit of Love counts as work,” Alistair declares. My spray bottle is in my hand without conscious effort, and I’m spritzing water at him before he finishes speaking. “Hey!”
“Your brand of ridiculous is not going to become part of my workday. And I told you to stop calling it that!”
“But—” Caolan’s hand over his mouth stops him from saying anything else, and Hagen goes to the utility closet without being asked to get the mop. Alistair looks at it like he’s never seen one before. I didn’t spritz him that hard, so there shouldn’t be more than a few droplets on the floor.
“Is this what DEA reception is like all the time?” Andrew asks. “I love Candice, but she’s never this entertaining.”
