Page 127 of The Associate
Gael pulled off with a soft, wet sound. He rose, his own breathing uneven, and kissed Samuel again. His mouth traveled from his lips down the line of his jaw to his neck. He bit, hard enough to make Samuel gasp. He licked over the spot, then moved lower, pushing Samuel’s t-shirt up with his nose and mouth. He found a nipple, circled it with his tongue, then sucked it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak.
Samuel arched off the counter, a ragged moan tearing from his throat. His hands flew to Gael’s head, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him there. “Gael… please…”
Gael ignored the plea, continuing his descent. He kissed and licked his way down Samuel’s stomach, tracing the line of muscle, dipping his tongue into his navel. Samuel was trembling, his legs shaking where they hung off the counter.
Then Gael pushed his knees apart, wider. He slid his hands under Samuel’s thighs, lifting them. He pushed his knees back, up toward his chest, exposing him completely. Samuel felt a flutter of vulnerability, but it was instantly consumed by a wave of sheer want. Gael looked at him for a long moment, his gaze heavy, before he lowered his head again.
He didn’t go to his cock. He went lower. He took one of his balls into his mouth, sucking on it gently as Sam whimpered, head thrown back. He repeated the same thing with the other. Then he moved again. He nuzzled the sensitive skin of his perineum,then lower still. The first touch of his tongue there, at his entrance, made Samuel jolt as if electrocuted. A sharp, punched-out sound escaped him.
Gael didn’t stop. He licked, a broad, flat stroke that made Samuel’s toes curl. Then he focused, his tongue becoming a point, pressing insistently against the tight ring of muscle. He circled it, teasing, before pressing in. Just the tip. Samuel whimpered, his back bowing off the counter.
Gael’s tongue pushed inside. He fucked him with it, shallow at first, then deeper, his nose pressed against Samuel’s skin. The sensation was overwhelming; strange, then not strange at all, then utterly maddening. Samuel was panting, little broken cries falling from his lips with each stroke of Gael’s tongue.
A finger soon joined it. It pressed in alongside, stretching him further. Samuel cried out, his hands fisting in Gael’s hair, unsure if he was pulling him closer or trying to push him away, lost in sensations. Gael added a second finger, scissoring them gently, crooking them, searching. He found the spot.
Samuel nearly screamed. His body seized, a white-hot bolt of pleasure shooting up his spine. “There! Oh God, there!”
Gael worked his fingers relentlessly against that same place, his mouth still wet and busy around them. Samuel was dissolving, mindless, babbling. “Please… more… I need… I need you… please, Gael…”
Gael withdrew. He stood up, his own pants open, his cock thick and heavy in his hand. His eyes were black with need, his lips swollen and wet. He lined himself up and pressed forward.
The blunt head of his cock pressed against Samuel’s loosened entrance. Gael held his gaze, his jaw tight, and pushed in.
It was a slow, burning stretch that stole Samuel’s breath. He gasped, his eyes watering, his legs tightening around Gael’s hips. Gael pushed deeper, inch by inch, until he was fully seated, buried inside him. They both went still, breathing harshly, connected in the most profound way possible.
Then Gael began to move. He pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in. The force of it drove the air from Samuel’s lungs. It was rough, exactly how he liked it. Each thrust jolted through him, the counter edge digging into his back, but the pain was a distant echo beneath the overwhelming pleasure-pain of being filled so completely, so mercilessly.
Samuel begged, nonsensical words, “yes,” and “more,” and “harder,” while Gael above him growled, a raw, animal sound with each drive of his hips.
Then, he did something unexpected. He hooked his arms under Samuel’s back and lifted him, pulling him off the counter. Samuel’s legs locked around Gael’s waist, his arms flying around his neck. Gael held him there, impaled, Samuel’s full weight supported in his arms. He began to move again, shallow, grinding thrusts that rubbed his cock directly over Samuel’s prostate with every movement.
Samuel buried his face in Gael’s neck, sobbing with the intensity of it.
Gael leaned his forehead against Samuel’s. Their breaths mingled, hot and ragged.
“Fuck,” he whispered, the word a broken gasp against Samuel’s lips as he snapped his hips up again, hitting that spot. “I love you, baby.”
Samuel keened, a high, desperate sound. He kissed Gael, a messy, desperate clash of teeth and tongue. “I love you,” he panted into his mouth between kisses. “I love you…”
Gael fucked him harder, his arms like steel bands around Samuel’s torso, squeezing so tightly Samuel knew there would be bruises tomorrow.
He loved the thought.
“Please…” he begged, his mind blank, his body a live wire of sensation. “I need… please…”
Gael understood. He adjusted his grip, holding Samuel with one arm, and snaked his other hand between their sweat-slicked bodies. His fingers wrapped around Samuel’s leaking cock.
He jerked him in time with his thrusts, a rough, perfect rhythm. The dual sensation, the deep, pounding fullness inside him and the tight friction on his cock, was too much. Samuel pressed his forehead hard into Gael’s shoulder, his mouth open in a silent scream as his orgasm ripped through him. He came in hot, pulsing stripes over his hand and both their stomachs, his body convulsing around Gael’s cock, milking him.
It pushed Gael over the edge. With a final, brutal thrust and a choked groan against Samuel’s skin, he followed him, spilling deep inside him, his own body shuddering with the force of his release.
∞∞∞
Later, the room was dark and quiet. The dishes from dinner satin the sink, the empty wine glasses on the dinner table. They lay in Gael’s bed, the sheets tangled around their legs, their bodies loose and heavy with contentment. Samuel was curled on his side, his head resting on Gael’s shoulder, one arm thrown across his chest. Gael’s hand traced slow, absent patterns on his bare back.
He was floating in the safe, dark silence, halfway to sleep, feeling the steady rise and fall of Gael’s breathing beneath his cheek.
Then Gael spoke, his voice a low vibration in the quiet.
