Page 62 of American King (New Camelot Trilogy 3)
“All right?” he said, by way of greeting.
“Yeah.”
His eyes sparkled with interest. “Are you American?”
I nodded.
“Here on holiday?”
“Sort of.” I looked down at my glass of pricey pear-infused gin. “I’m in the Army. Between assignments right now.”
“Oh, a military man,” he said, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes traced over the button down shirt and flat-fronted slacks I wore, lingered on the places where the slacks hugged my thighs. “First time to England?”
“First time I’ve stayed for any length of time.”
“Seeing the sights?”
I gave him the same lingering look he’d just given me and was rewarded with him biting his li
p. “You could say that,” I finally replied. “Can I buy you a drink?”
He leaned forward, bracing some long-toed, hand-tooled shoe on the bottom of my barstool. “I’ve got an even better idea. How about I make us both drinks at my place?”
I glanced back down to my gin, making up my mind about something. Because what the fuck did it matter if this man bolted from me when I told the truth? I was in a different country, and it’s not like I’d ever see him again, and he wasn’t Embry, so it would never matter.
“I’d like that,” I said carefully. “The thing is I—well. I like to be in charge. Is that something you can be comfortable with?”
He grinned again, teeth white against his sweet brown lips and dark scruff. “You’re new to this, yeah?”
It didn’t make me feel defensive, but I wanted to clarify. “New to what?”
“Pulling men at bars. Pulling men at all.”
“I’ve been in the Army,” I pointed out. “I’m certainly new to doing it like this.”
He laughed. “Yeah, all right. Well, I’m flattered to be your first English pull, and for what it’s worth, I definitely can be comfortable with you being in charge. In fact…” He reached out and clasped my upper arm. To the people around us, it might have looked like a fraternal clap on the shoulder, but I could feel the teasing way he squeezed at my muscles. “In fact, Mr. Army, there’s nothing I think I want more than for you to be in charge right now.”
That brittle thing inside me snapped. I dropped some coins on the bar and stood.
“Lead the way.”
He led the way. His place was just around the corner, and indeed the glass-balconied status flat I’d assumed, and he did indeed want me in charge. He went to a sleek bar niche to make those drinks, but when I crowded in behind him, my hands teasing at the lapels of his suit jacket, he leaned back against me with a moan that I liked very much. Almost as much as I liked how pliant his body became, and the way he ground his ass into my hips.
We kissed, and then we drank, and then we properly made out, toeing off shoes and pulling at shirt buttons and hair, falling onto his bed, and then I unknotted his tie and slid it from around his neck.
“I’d like to bind your wrists,” I told him. “But I’ll keep it loose enough that you can free yourself, since you don’t know me.”
“You are the politest, Mr. Army. Do it,” he said, holding out his wrists for me, and so I did it. And then I found his cock with my palm, rubbing it and rolling the heel of my hand along the underside until he was writhing underneath me.
I unbuttoned his pants. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he said back. And then I freed his cock and took him in my mouth.
It was old and it was new at the same time. It was not the first cock I’d sucked, but it was the first time I’d had the man tied up, the first time I’d been driving the scene rather than simply taking part in an urgent tug-of-war. Not to mention how long it had been since I’d had any sexual contact at all.
I worked his pants all the way off, then I began stroking him below his testicles, along the fleshy line leading to his entrance.
“Okay?” I asked.
