17. Seventeen

Church straddled my lap, grinding against me through our clothes while the credits played. Neither of us had paid very much attention to the film, which wasn't surprising since we'd spent the whole movie kissing and touching. That was the surprising part. I hadn't had a long, drawn-out make-out session like that since I got kicked out of the one-dollar theater when I was fourteen. I hadn't wanted to.

Sex for me was usually little more than a hookup with someone I met at a concert, or an escort I had to pay for it. The way I lived my life didn't leave a lot of room for people and relationships. I thought that was what I wanted, what was expected of me. Making out with Church for over an hour was nice. No, better than nice. It was amazing, and he was really getting into it.

He let out a sweet, needy whimper as I pulled his head to the side and moved my lips to his neck. "No marks this time."

"C'mon, kitten. Maybe just a little one?"

He sighed. "Dante… "

I lowered my hands to his ass and started kneading. God, he had such a great ass. "What if I put it somewhere nobody else but me can see?"

Church leaned away to look down at me, his perfect, pretty lips pressed into a pouty line. I was sure he was going to tell me no with the way he was looking at me, but instead, he pulled his shirt over his head.

My heart clenched as I took in the dozens of scars he'd revealed. Dark marks slashed their way across his skin in random places, some small and others several inches long. Scattered among them were circular marks and rough patches where the skin must've been burned away.

I didn't need to ask what'd happened. He'd already told me that he was in a Syrian prison.

"It's not pretty, is it?" he said, tossing the shirt aside.

He was perfect, and the scars didn't detract from who he was. If anything, it told me how strong he was to have survived such horrors, but I didn't know if that was the right thing to say.

I ran my fingers over the biggest one where his chest hair had never quite grown back and looked up at him. "We don't have to talk about it."

"As long as you're not put off by it. They don't stop there, and you should know what you're getting with me."

"I'm not put off. I'm getting everything I want." My thumbs brushed over his nipples, and he arched his back into my touch. "You like that?" I asked and did it again.

He groaned and nodded. "They're really sensitive."

"Perfect." I grinned and latched onto the perky pink little nubs, rolling them between my fingers .

Church tipped his head back, and I seized the opportunity, closing my lips over the hollow of his throat. He'd asked me not to leave any marks there, and after seeing all his scars, I'd lost the will to give him anything but pleasure. I showered his skin with soft kisses, working my way down.

I let my hands trail down his chest, admiring every inch of him. How had he gone seventeen years without someone snatching him up?

You can't have him either, Dante. This arrangement is only temporary. I pushed the thought away. I could worry about the fallout later. Right now, I had the perfect man in my arms, begging for my attention. He deserved to have everything he wanted and more.

I lowered my head, pulling one of his nipples into my mouth and sucking hard. Church cried out, and the sofa creaked as he tightened his grip on the back of it. His hips moved frantically, grinding against me like the friction of our bodies was the only thing he needed in the world. As good as it felt, the position was awkward. Church might've been the perfect man, but that height difference was a pain in the neck. Literally.

I released his nipple with a wet pop. "Lie back for me."

Church slid off my lap and I got up while he laid his head back against the arm of the sofa, stretching out so that his legs were hanging over the other side. It was adorable trying to watch him fit into spaces that were much too small for him. It almost made him look innocent. The pink flush on his face and neck definitely helped with the look.

I climbed back on top of him, straddling his waist, smirking when his hard cock twitched under me. "You okay there, kitten?"

He nodded quickly.

"Is that a yes? I can't hear your brain rattle."

Church hissed as I ran my fingertips lightly over his ribs. "Yes. "

"I'm not too heavy?"

He opened one eye and arched an eyebrow. "Not even close."

"Of course not. You don't work out every morning outside my window for nothing." I chuckled and bent down to lick his nipple.

He shuddered. "I don't…It's not…on purpose."

"Really? Because I think you want me to look at you." I leaned down and whispered next to his ear. "And I like watching. It makes my dick so hard."

He made a strangled sound.

"Arms up." I pushed his arms above his head. "Hold on to the sofa for me, kitten."

"What for?" he asked, frowning.

I grinned as Church did what he was told, even as he questioned it. "I want to see if I can make you come just by playing with your nipples."

I closed my lips around his other nipple and circled it with my tongue. He let out a low whine and his muscles flexed as he struggled with himself not to pull his hands away from where he'd put them. I'd never seen a man so at war with himself over what to do, but it was hot as hell, especially knowing Church could break me in half if he wanted. Yet here he was, surrendering completely to me. I wanted to sear the image of that moment into my mind forever.

I licked and kissed and sucked his nipples, first one and then the other, for what felt like an hour. I could've done it for a day and it never would've gotten old. The small, whimpering sounds he made, the way his hips jerked up against mine, the way he turned his head and buried it against his biceps as if he could somehow hide how good it felt… Was there anything more perfect than that?

Sweat gathered on the back of my neck, so I paused to pull off my shirt. Church's pretty blue eyes raked over my skin hungrily. I wasn't built like him with stacks upon stacks of muscle. Hell, I didn't even have abs. Not really. Too many months spent drinking my dinner instead of working out. But he looked at me like I did, like I was the sexiest thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

His throat worked, and he let out a shuddering breath. "Use your teeth."

"You sure?"

He nodded. "Just…start gentle."

I smiled and leaned forward to capture his lips again. "I'd never hurt you."

Something in his eyes changed, the hard edges growing slightly softer. I wondered if I'd touched on a sensitive subject, but he didn't say anything.

"You okay?" I asked, running my fingertips through the stubble on his chin.

"Yeah. Just really turned on right now."

I smiled and kissed him again. "Well, let's see what we can do about that."

I started kissing my way down his chest again, pointedly ignoring his nipples at first. When I reached his ribs, I dragged my teeth over the skin there, testing the waters.

Church snorted. "I've survived torture. You can bite me harder than that."

I moved up and repeated the same action, this time scraping my teeth over the sensitive skin of his nipple. He hissed and arched his back. I took that as a request for more and pinched the tender bud between my teeth until he was squirming and panting beneath me. Then I slid over to the other to repeat it.

"Dante! I can't!" His eyes flared wide, and he finally lost the war against himself, letting his arms fall around me. One big hand closed around my right leg, which was dangling off the side of the sofa. "I can't take it. I need more. Please."

My mind immediately conjured an image of me being buried inside him while he was bent helplessly over the kitchen table, but I shook that away. He'd been apprehensive about penetrative sex, so suggesting it now might shut him down, and I didn't want that. I wanted to make him feel comfortable, to enjoy this, which probably meant we weren't going all the way there just yet. It was a little disappointing, but I had a feeling that the wait would be worth it.

I flicked my tongue over his nipple one more time. "You want to come?"

His fingers tightened around my leg. He nodded before adding quickly, "Yes," and unbuckling his belt.

I helped him pull his jeans down, revealing a pair of gray boxers with a big, dark wet spot near where the head of his cock was pressed against them. All I wanted to do was bend down and taste him through the fabric, but I held off. He still hadn't said what he wanted. I left the rest to him so I could pull down my pajama pants, thankful I'd decided to go commando earlier in the day.

Church hesitated halfway through pulling his boxers down. "Oh, uh…I…"

I frowned, having just dropped my pants on the floor. I was naked except for my socks. "What? What's wrong? Did you not want me to take off my pants? I can put them back on."

"No, no. It's just…" His eyes fell to my cock jutting up between my legs and his face reddened. "I'm not…"

"Not what?" I tipped my head to the side, trying to figure out what he meant.

Church looked away, heaved a heavy sigh, and pulled his boxers down the rest of the way .

At first, I didn't know what he might be so hung up on. There was absolutely nothing there to be embarrassed about. His cock was a little longer and thicker than mine, but still a perfect, uncut masterpiece. "Oh shit. That's what you're blushing about? That you're not circumcised?"

He blushed a little harder and squirmed under me. "I know that's the American preference but—"

I put my finger to his lips. "Shush. I think it's hot."

"Really?"

"I'm not going to pump the brakes just because your trouser snake's wearing a jacket."

He recoiled, looking horrified. "Don't you ever call it that again!"

"Oh, damn. You're right. It's a jumper across the pond, isn't it?"

"You know that's not what I meant!"

"Oh! You mean your penis!" I grinned. "Or do you prefer willie? Pecker? Pocket rocket? Purple helmeted—"

Church grabbed me before I could finish and silenced me with a kiss. "Cock will do nicely."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Church held up a finger and shook his head. "And if you say something juvenile, we're done."

"Baby, have you met me? I'm the epitome of a gentleman."

Church made a sound that might've been a protest, but it quickly morphed into a groan as I took our cocks in hand. His head fell back, and the conversation ended.

I kissed him again, shifting my weight and my grip on him. His eyes widened, and he gripped me tighter as I carefully pulled his foreskin over my cockhead and thrust against him.

"Holy fuck," he breathed, eyes wide with wonder and lust.

I grinned. "Never done this before? "

He shook his head and stared down between us, watching my body move inside his. I couldn't blame him. The silky-smooth glide of his foreskin over my cock was heaven, and I felt spoiled, getting to be inside of him, even just a little.

God, I loved doing this, and I especially loved doing it with him. There was something special about knowing that I was the first one to touch him like that, to bring him that kind of pleasure. It was almost as good as fucking him. Maybe better, although I hesitated to think that since he did have an amazing, round ass meant for bouncing off of. But getting to see the shock and wonder on his face as I used his body like a cock sleeve was sheer bliss. He was made for this type of pleasure, and I never wanted it to end.

I watched our cocks glide together through the thin layer of skin, slick with each other's pre-cum, and there was a lot of it, most of it from him. Seeing it leak out from where we were joined, feeling it running down my shaft, made the whole thing even hotter.

Church's breathing became more ragged, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants, sometimes punctuated in moans against my lips. My head was getting hazy, probably from not getting enough air, but I couldn't stop kissing him.

Church let out the most delicious little whine. "Dante, I can't…I'm going to…"

"Go on, kitten. You can come."

He groaned and his cock pulsed, spilling cum all over my cock, my hand…It went everywhere and it was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever seen. I kissed him again and closed my hand around us tighter, jacking us faster as I chased my own orgasm.

I pulled away to look down but Church pulled my lips back to his, and that was it. My orgasm hit me like a gut punch and I couldn't stop myself from biting down on his tongue when he offered it. He groaned into me and let me keep stroking us, even after I was done, because I couldn't get enough. I kept going until he couldn't take it anymore and scrambled to push my hand away.

I collapsed against him while we both tried to catch our breath. It wasn't until then that I realized it was dark outside and I could hear the crickets chirping. How long had we been at it? Not long enough. With a little encouragement and ten more minutes, I might be ready to go back for seconds.

"Christ," Church whispered and raked his fingers through his sweaty hair. "That was…"

"Amazing?" I grinned and winked. "I know, right?"

His cell vibrated where he'd set it on the table next to our now-cold tea and the laptop.

I buried my face against his shoulder. He smelled heavenly, like citrus-tinged tea leaves, sex, and man. "Let it go to voicemail. I don't want to move."

"I don't think I can move," he confessed as the phone continued to buzz. "But it might be important."

I groaned. "Fine," I said, and half rolled off of him, falling to the floor. Annoyed, I sifted through our discarded clothes for something to clean us off with and settled on my shirt, swiping my fingers over it before grabbing his phone and tossing it to him.

He hit the button and held it to his ear. "Church." His neck flushed a brighter pink. "No, I was just…" He glanced at me. "…working out. What did you find? Really? Are you sure? No, I'll talk to them tomorrow morning. It's late and Dante is…He's sleeping. Yeah. Okay." He rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck off, Bowie." He hung up and tossed the phone back to the table.

I finished wiping him off with the t-shirt as best I could. "Did they find Oscar? "

"Not yet." Church sighed and sat up. "But Bowie says it looks like this isn't the first trouble you've had with him."

I frowned and scooted up onto the sofa to sit next to him. "But I'd never met Oscar before I came here."

"Not in person." Church stood and grabbed his pants from the floor, pulling them on. "Bowie pulled Oscar's paperwork from when he signed the NDA here and compared his signature with a signature on some of your fan mail."

"That doesn't prove—"

" Threatening fan mail." Church bent over to pick up his shirt. "He's using a different name, but the handwriting is similar. He's sending it to an FBI agent who owes us a favor for an analysis. We'll know for sure soon."

I sighed and let my head fall back against the cushions, eyes closed. "I just want to forget about this whole mess and move on."

"If he came after you once, he might do it again, especially now that he's had a taste for it." Church sat down and took my hand in his before planting a quick kiss on my cheek. "Don't worry, Dante. I'll protect you."

I forced a smile, despite the sick feeling churning in my gut. "I know you will, kitten."