Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

BEE

I t’s snowing heavily by the time we get back to the apartment building, and we all heave sighs of relief when we enter the foyer and the toasty heat hits us.

“Now I know how Ernest Shackleton felt,” Ivy says, removing her hat. Her face is flushed, and her hair a wild tangle.

“Yes, because he always went back to his designer apartment at night.” I strip off my gloves. Even with them, my hands were cold, and now my fingers tingle.

“He might have looked a bit more cheerful in his photos if he had,” she says, pushing the lift button.

Tom grins at me. Unlike Ivy and me, who are in a bedraggled state, he looks healthy and raring to hike some more. His eyes sparkle, and the colour on his cheeks makes his grey eyes very bright. I smile at him affectionately. Ivy is pretending so hard she’s not looking at us but she’s accomplishing the opposite.

We step into the lift, and she presses the button for her floor.

“Aren’t you coming back to our apartment?” I ask, surprised. “We can get a late lunch.”

“No, I’m quite tired.” I narrow my eyes, and she yawns so phonily that if she had an equity card, I’d demand she turn it in immediately. “Goodness, all that walking has made me so sleepy. I might have an afternoon nap before we meet up later.”

“Hmm.” I know what she’s doing and can’t help feeling a little grateful. We only have today and then we’re going home tomorrow. I would like some alone time with Tom.

The lift stops, and she hugs Tom. “Thank you so much for Circus Lane.”

He grins. “Well, I didn’t actually build it.”

I wink. “If you had, you could have put a Starbucks in the middle rather than making us walk all that way.”

“Sacrilege. And the Starbucks was literally twenty feet away.”

Ivy’s grin is crooked and shows off her snaggle tooth, which she usually takes care to conceal. It’s how I know she’s at ease with him and being natural. “Well, you didn’t have to do all of that, Tom. You could have done something much better than shepherding Bee and me around the city.”

“Hey,” I say. “I’m not sure there is anything better than that.”

Tom’s smile is so intimate it makes me want to both run away and climb him like a tree. “I think Bee might be right.”

Ivy gives me a pointed look that I pretend not to see and hugs me. “Be good, and if you can’t be good, then definitely don’t be careful.”

“I’m not sure that’s the right saying.”

She sighs. “It is with you.”

“Do you know where the original saying came from?”

“No, and I don’t want to. Bye.”

“Rude,” I huff as she exits the lift and the door closes.

A silence falls that isn’t uncomfortable, and Tom leans against the lift’s wall, studying me.

“Yes? Shall I take a picture for you?”

He winks and presses the button for our floor. “Only if it’s a naked one.”

My cock stirs at the heat in his eyes. “I’m sure that can be arranged,” I say in a demure voice and crook my finger. “Come here,” I whisper.

He just keeps his spot against the wall, looking perfectly comfortable. “First, tell me where the saying came from.”

I blink. “What?”

“The saying about being good or careful. It seems like rather a boring choice to offer anyone.”

“You actually want me to tell you now ?” I gesture to my cock that’s currently creating a bulge in my jeans.

His eyes flare hot but there’s a hint of amusement there too.

I give up trying to understand why I find his amusement as entertaining as his sexiness, and say, “It was first said in a publication in the early twentieth century, but one of my history tutors believed it derived from a Latin proverb in the eleventh century that said Si non caste, tamen caute which means ‘if not chastely, nevertheless cautiously’.” I roll my eyes. “Happy now? My erection has deflated.”

“Mine hasn’t,” he says huskily as the lift stops.

I look down at his jeans and see the hard length of his cock outlined. It makes my mouth water. “My boring story made you hard?”

The doors open, and he winks at me. “Everything about you makes me hard. Every. Single. Thing.”

I follow him out of the lift. I don’t think anyone has ever given me such a compliment before. Oh, I’ve had men rave over my arse or my sexual prowess, and my tutors have praised my intellect, but no one has ever put those things together with my personality and liked all of them.

I push that revelation aside and walk next to him, waiting as he finds the keycard in his pocket and opens the door, stepping back to wave me through. Courtesy is so innate in him, and I love it.

The flat is quiet, and I stand still as Tom strides towards the lounge, opens the door, peers in, and then does the same with Jack’s room. He turns and walks back towards me, and now the easygoing humour has gone, and there’s only heat.

“No one’s here, and we have the whole afternoon together,” he announces.

I tap my chin, attempting to look deep in thought when really I’m hard and throbbing. “ Whatever shall we do? How about another game of Gutterheads?”

“Only if you do that super-special forward roll again.”

I start to laugh as he grabs my hand and pulls me into my room. He closes the door and flicks the lock, and the small sound is like a starter pistol on my race towards the bed and orgasms.

He takes hold of my shoulders and turns me so I’m facing him. Then, he slips my coat off and throws it onto the chair in the corner.

I immediately walk over to the bedside table and grab the lube and a condom. As a second thought, I add another condom and throw it on the bed. When I turn back, he’s still in his coat. “Are you waiting for a special dispensation?”

He grins. “I thought we’d shower first.”

I blink. “Pardon?”

“Shower,” he says, slowly spelling out the syllables in an exaggerated fashion, his eyes dancing.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that,” I protest. “I usually do that alone.” I gesture at the bed. “Don’t you want to get in and get on with it?”

His lip quirks. “Get on with it?”

“Yes, the fucking.”

“Oh, sorry. I thought you meant doing a jigsaw.”

“You are such a twat ,” I inform him.

He bursts into laughter that’s merry and warm. He pulls my jumper up, tapping me to raise my arms, and I do so with uncharacteristic obedience. He throws the jumper to one side and sends his hands down my torso, sliding slowly over the exposed skin. I shiver, and my nipples tighten, and his eyes heat as he circles one with a fingertip before flicking it, making me groan.

“So, the shower?”

“You’re still set on that?” I say, flabbergasted. “Are you a clean freak? Do I smell?” I say in a shocked voice, sniffing my armpit and thankfully only smelling deodorant.

“You smell great,” he says huskily. He leans in, whispering in my ear. “I’m going to put my mouth all over you and in you.”

My swallow is audible in the quiet room. “All over and inside?”

He nods, running his fingers down my chest again and fiddling with the button on my jeans. “Yep. And then I’m going to dirty you up, so we’ll need another shower later.”

We study each other for a long moment, and I profoundly hope he means what I think he means.

“Okay, I can do a shower,” I say, quickly stripping off the rest of my clothes. His husky laugh sounds behind me as I race towards the bathroom. “Hurry up,” I call, and he laughs harder.

I start the shower, and once the water gets steamy, I step in. By the time Tom enters the room, I’m already washing soap off. “Hurry up,” I say. “I’ve done my bits.”

“Has there ever been more erotic words spoken in the history of mankind?”

I roll my eyes. “Shut up.”

I watch avidly as he starts to pull off his clothes. He takes it slow, unlike me, who must have broken land-speed records in getting naked, and it’s incredibly erotic as he reveals more and more skin. By the time he’s starkers, I have my hand around my cock jacking it slowly.

He watches me, and his eyes flare hotter than the sun. I lower my hand. I'm pretty sure he’s going to jump me as soon as he gets in here. I’m just wondering if the shampoo can be used as lube and who’s going to get out and grab the condoms when he steps in and reaches for the body wash.

Okay, I can go with that. It’s not as thick as I’d like, but needs must.

Then I blink as he crooks a finger. “Come here.”

“Me or the invisible dog who seems to be in the shower with us?”

He laughs. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I eye him disapprovingly. “I’m not sure you will. You don’t appear to be in any sort of hurry.”

“Pah. Who rushes with sex if they don’t have to?”

“Well, me.”

“Come here.”

My feet obey him, and I step closer until I’m in his space, our bodies touching. His cock is a hard rod jutting out from its nest of neat brown pubes. I didn’t get much of a look at him last night. Probably because I was set on coming quickly and leaving even faster. And look at how that worked.

“You’re so gorgeous,” I say, tracing a finger down the vein on his length. “I want that inside me.”

He stares at me and then swallows hard, leaning into my touch. I think that might be my cue. I start to kneel.

“No.” He pulls me up. “Not yet.”

“I thought you wanted me to,” I say as he kisses my neck. The feeling makes my eyes cross. “I thought you wanted to get this show on the road.”

“We’re not Coldplay.”

I snort. “And you’re not funny.”

“Of course not, dear.” He kisses me again.

Our bodies are wet and slide together as I wrap my arms around his narrow waist. The kiss deepens as he slips his tongue into my mouth and tangles it with mine. But he doesn’t make any moves to go further. Instead, he pulls back and taps my shoulder. “Turn around,” he says huskily.

I do, swallowing hard as he pours gel into his palms and then runs his hands over my chest and down my torso, dipping into my belly button.

“Even that’s cute.” He runs his soapy hands over my hips and then across my groin, avoiding my cock that’s pushing at him rudely.

He’s going slower than molasses, and infuriated, I shove my cock against his hand.

“Not yet,” he whispers, returning his hands to my chest.

“I’m not sure why you’re bothering with that,” I say primly. “I don’t like nipple play.”

“That’s exceptionally sad for your poor nipples.”

I open my mouth to either laugh or argue, but all that comes out is a shocked gasp of air as he pinches them. The feeling is like an electric current rushing to my cock, and I press against him. “ Again ,” I breathe.

He does as I say, but then he gentles his touch, rubbing slowly over them, the shower gel making the slide sublime. All thoughts of rushing have left me, and all I can concentrate on is the almost dreamy feeling and soft pleasure that comes from that gentle touch. It’s enough, yet not enough at the same time, and my body strains for more.

He kisses my neck, nosing below my ear and dropping kisses there before licking and sucking my earlobe. I turn around and link my hands behind his neck, pulling him close. “Do it again,” I breathe.

He grabs my hips, his fingers digging in as he takes my lips in a kiss that’s as deep and slow as the rest of this strange and lovely interlude.

When he pulls back, I sway towards him. “Turn around,” he says.

“I’ll be dizzy if you don’t get on with it,” I inform him, but I’m already turning to rest my hands on the wall, so the words somewhat lose their impact. I groan as his soapy hands start at my shoulders, massaging away the tension there in long strokes.

“God, that’s lovely,” I slur. “Can you come to uni and do that for me?”

“Won’t the no-clothes element cause a stir?”

“I certainly don’t care.”

His hands move down, cupping my shoulder blades and then lower until he reaches my buttocks and spreads them. I groan as he directs the showerhead at my opening. “Shit, that’s so good,” I hiss. “Don’t stop.”

He hums almost thoughtfully, and then I feel a soapy finger at my entrance. “We’d better clean you here,” he murmurs.

I swallow hard. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to spend time down here.”

“Oh my god.”

He chuckles and lowers himself behind me, spreading my cheeks and examining me. It’s lucky I don’t embarrass easily because his scrutiny is so thorough. “So pretty,” he finally says, and then he leans in and licks between my cheeks.

“Oh fuck,” I breathe. “That feels good.”

“You sound surprised?”

I shrug. “I guess I am. I’ve only had it done a few times, and it was always a big rush.”

“Were you directing the time by any chance?”

“Shut up.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m very much a slow-moving boy.”

“If you got any more slow-moving, you’d be dead,” I say tartly, sticking out my arse and squeaking as he slaps the cheeks. I lower my head and moan as he licks again, this time running his tongue over my opening. It feels so good that sparks fly behind my closed eyelids, and I clench my fists against the tiles, mutely begging him to keep going. This time he does, licking and sucking at the tiny opening before poking the tip of his tongue in.

He pulls back. “Hand me the lube,” he says in a deep voice that sends a shiver down my spine.

I open my eyes and look dazedly at the shower tray where a tube of waterproof lubricant is resting.

“You’re thinking ahead.”

“It’s my superpower. I must say I like the fact that your lube is edible.”

“Well, I do like a multi-purpose item,” I mutter.

He laughs then rubs his lubed fingers together while I blink the water on my eyelashes away. Then I squeeze my eyes shut in pleasure as he rubs my hole with his lubed finger. “Do it,” I urge. “Shit, that’s so fucking good .”

He’s licking my hole around his finger, which he just slid inside me. He keeps it still while he sucks and licks at the wrinkled skin and then crooks his finger slightly, so he hits my prostate. The pleasure makes my toes curl, and I groan loud and long.

Those moans get louder as he inserts another finger and then another, all the time sucking at my entrance or pulling away to press his tongue into my perineum, pressing hard with his other hand.

When he pulls away, I groan loud and long. “No, don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to. Get out of the shower.”

My legs are wobbly, so I let him help me out, tottering slightly in the cold air. My cockhead is slick with precome and throbbing, but he ignores it, drying me off and leaving me slightly damp. “Get on the bed,” he orders.

I hasten to do as he says and scurry to the bedroom. There, I crawl on the bed, resting on my hands and knees and pushing my arse out.

“No,” he says low. “Turn around and lie back.”

“ What ?”

His smile is evident in his voice. “I’m running this show today. It’s my turn. Roll over, Beethoven.”

I groan at the terrible joke but then roll onto my back, opening my legs. He’s standing at the bottom of the bed rubbing his hair with a towel. With his gaze fixed on me, he throws the towel to one side and crawls onto the bed, before resting between my legs and then spreading them further with his big hands.

“ Fuck ,” he says in an awed voice.

I squirm. I’m fully exposed in the grey afternoon light so I’m feeling a mixture of desire and uncertainty. “Shouldn’t we close the curtains?”

He shakes his head. “No one can see in, and I want to look at you.”

“Why?”

He offers me a crooked smile, his eyes hot. “Because you’re beautiful,” he says simply.

I clear my throat and fight against the bewildered pleasure his words give me. “No, I’m not.”

“Well, I think you are. Now, shall we have a debate, or shall I rim you?”

My swallow is so loud you can hear my throat clicking. “I think rimming ,” I say quickly.

“Draw your legs up and hold them open.”

I hasten to do as he orders, raising my knees to my chest and displaying myself.

He runs a reverent hand down my leg and inwards, coasting over my balls and making me shiver. He cups them in a gentle hand, and I gasp as he leans down in a swift move and draws one into his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” I cry out as he sucks gently. “Please don’t stop.”

He mouths at the orbs. Then he pulls back, blowing cool air over them and making me shiver before leaning in and petting my hole. “It’s pale pink in this light,” he says softly. “Like the inside of a shell.”

“That’s rather a trite simile,” I say.

He shakes his head, and I shut my mouth so fast my teeth click. His eyes flare with amusement, and then he leans in and licks my hole. I give a loud groan and arch into his touch. He puts his hands on my thighs, shoving them upwards so my arse is against his mouth and then he spends the next few minutes sucking and finger-fucking me. Soon, I’m covered in sweat, my eyes blindly staring at the ceiling as I hold my thighs up with a death grip and hump into his fingers and mouth.

When he pulls back this time, his eyes are almost feral. “Legs down,” he growls, and I hasten to do it. “Spread them.” He leans in and bites my nipple. I cry out and wind my legs around him, so our cocks slide against each other, damp with sweat and precome. He grabs my arse and kisses me as we writhe against each other.

We eat at each other’s mouths, sharing sighs and moans in the humid space between us, and the scent of sex is heady. Our humping grows faster, and I feel my balls draw up. Then I cry out in protest as he tears himself away, panting. I open my mouth to chastise him but swallow the complaint as he grabs the condom and suits up quickly, before covering his dick in a stream of lube and rubbing the rest into my hole.

He pauses, looking at me steadily, his eyes everywhere as though fixing me in his mind.

I stretch out, crooking my finger at him. “Come here and fuck me.”

He falls onto me, and I raise my legs. His cock nudges against my opening, and then he’s sliding in. The slide is easy, like a knife into butter, and I pant, unable to kiss him and just mouthing into his skin.

“Let me kiss you,” he orders.

I rush to comply, and I’m so enthusiastic our teeth clash and our chests heave. I’m addicted to kissing during sex that quickly. What has he done to me?

The kissing continues as he starts to move. It’s slow and steady, and I clutch at him with both hands. “ Faster ,” I demand into his mouth.

“No, like this.” He pulls out slowly and kneels on the mattress. Before I can complain, he grabs my arse and drags me close, wrapping my legs around him. I arch upwards with my arse on his thighs. “Lie back and let me look at you,” he says, gasping as he pushes into me again. “God, you’re so fucking tight .”

The glide pushes his cock against my prostate, and I arch into it, fisting the bedclothes, my body a perfect arch towards him.

“So beautiful,” he praises and starts to thrust into me. The strokes are long and forceful but still slow. I let myself go, revelling in the heat and admiration in his eyes as he clutches my hips, his fingers digging in. The muscles in his torso and abs are rigid and covered in a fine layer of sweat as he moves ceaselessly, almost like the tide surging in and pulling out.

The tender skin of my opening feels puffy and swollen, and my passage clenches and throbs around him as my cock bounces in the air. I’m leaking precome, and I stare as he runs his finger over the head and then sucks his fingertip. “Yum.”

It’s too much, and I tighten my abs, grinding down on him as he pushes into me. “I’m close,” I warn.

“Come, babe,” he says, grabbing my cock as he screws into me in hard thrusts. He strokes me, lube and precome making it a smooth glide. He shoves into me once more, grazing my prostate, and I grind my head into the pillow, my eyes screwing shut as every muscle in my body goes rigid. Then I scream and come in pulses over his fingers.

He milks me, and then when I’ve finished, he pulls his hand away. I raise heavy eyes and watch him lick his fingers, his own eyes sliding closed as he savours the taste. “Mmm,” he says throatily. Then he grabs onto my legs, clutching tight and gazing down at where his cock is pushing into me.

“Fuck,” he chokes. He arches, pushing his cock into me so high and hard that I feel a flash of sharp pleasure. His cock twitches, and he groans loud and long as he comes into me, and incredibly, I feel my cock pulse and another thread of come spurts over my stomach.

We lie there, panting loudly in the quiet room. After a few minutes, he stirs, pulling gently out of me and knotting the condom. I force my eyes open to look at him. His hair is damp with sweat, and his face is full of a sweet satiation—a feeling I share.

“I should go,” he whispers.

My eyes widen. He’s right. He should go back to his room. That’s the way I like it. Which is why it’s so astonishing to find myself snuggling into him. “Do you want to stay a while?”

I can feel the startled surprise in his body, but when he speaks, he says simply, “I can do that.”

He can’t keep the pleasure out of his voice, and it makes me happy, so I turn on my side, feeling him snuggle up behind me and enclose me in his arms with a sigh of satisfaction that I echo silently.

The room is dim now, and when I look out, I exclaim in delight. The snow is so thick and heavy that the world seems made of it. Thick flakes the size of my thumb are spiralling down, and every building is white and covered in layers making them look like iced cakes. I can just make out the light from the ornate Victorian lamp, which looks magical.

“That’s so pretty,” I say.

His arms are warm around me, his body hard against my back. He’s bigger than me in all ways, but his size makes me feel safe and protected. It’s strangely nice.

He nuzzles his face into my cheek, dropping a kiss on my skin that makes me shiver.

He immediately draws up the duvet, tucking it around us and pushing one hairy leg between mine. Our feet tangle, and I’ve never felt so comfortable.

I let out a yawn, feeling his arms tighten, and then he does the same. “Five minutes,” I say sleepily. “And then we can get up.”

I never lie in bed because there’s always so much to do, but lying like this is a pleasure all in itself. He murmurs an agreement, and then there’s easy silence. His body grows lax against me and I’m just going to sleep myself, when he starts to snore. My eyes fly open.

“What the fuck ?” I whisper. I usually go to sleep at night with my thunderstorm playlist, but that pales into insignificance next to the sound coming from Tom. It sounds like a chain saw that’s got stuck in the base of a tree. How can one human being make that much noise while asleep? I turn my head to eye him and then shake my head affectionately. He manages to look adorable even when snoring.

I shove him experimentally and the cacophony stops. Then I lie still watching the snow fall until my eyes get heavy and I fall asleep.