Dane is first to enter our deluxe king room, gliding in with a “wow” for every direction. “I thought the Fillmore was nice. The Four Seasons is—”
“Off the hook?”
Dane spins slowly, his oh-no-you-didn’t grin already in place. “You’re killing me here.”
“Hey, talk to Urban Dictionary if you have a problem.”
The duffel bag slides off his shoulder as Dane’s hands find his hips. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna have to hide your power cord.”
I tug the boy against my body. We’re both rock hard from our extended make-out session in the back of the taxi.
“Sounds like somebody needs a cavity search.”
Well, hello, blush.
“Is that what you want, Dane? I seem to recall you saying you might feel like dancing tonight.”
“Umm . . . that was before you got me all drunk and horny.”
He sucks in a breath as my descending hands reach his perfect ass. “I got you all drunk and horny, huh?”
Twinkle, twinkle, horny star. “You did.”
Tonight is not a night for adhering to rules. Dane is going to get whatever Dane wants.
“Well, sweetheart, what do you propose we do about that? I think you’ve earned the right to decide tonight. Would you like your Master to deliver that spanking you earned earlier?”
I give his ass an experimental pop. His eyes widen, and a huge smile breaks across his face. Then he shocks me by shaking his head. “Nuh-uh.”
“No? Hmm, shall I tie you to the bed and tease you ‘til you beg?”
Slow head shake. “No, thank you.” His sly grin tells me he has a very specific plan, and I cannot wait to hear it.
Grinding my hips into Dane’s, I gaze deep into those soft, brown eyes. “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need from your Master tonight?”
“Actually . . .” He trails off into one of his epic Dane pauses.
“Okay, now I’m dying of curiosity. Speak, boy!”
“Could you . . .” Dane pauses, runs his hand down the leather cords of his necklace, and palms the dog tags before continuing, “. . . not be my master tonight, Marcus?”
Thump, thump, thud. My heart is about to go on a first date.
“Take off your necklace, Dane.”
He gives me a slight nod before exhaling and lifting the leather straps over his head. Twisting his upper body to reach the side table, Dane sets down the informal collar with his customary reverence. When he turns back to me, it’s with fresh eyes—the eyes of my partner, who’s not afraid to see me as a man.
“You know something funny, Dane?”
He lifts his hand to my face and drags his elegant thumb across my cheekbone. “No, what’s funny?”
“By taking off your necklace, you just changed who I am.”
“Who are you?” A smile lights Dane’s expression, and a shiver snakes its way down my spine.
“Just a guy who loves you.”
If his tender kiss is any measure, Dane is pleased with my response. “I love you too, Marcus.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“Good.” Once again, he leans forward and closes his mouth over mine, rocking our hips together in a gentle sway. A blushing, serious Dane pulls back from the kiss, searching the depths of my eyes for answers. “So . . . Marcus . . . I guess you know what I want tonight.”
Double thud. “I do now.”
Embarrassed laughter, averted gazes, awkward smiles.
Dane’s hands slip around the back of my neck. “It’s okay, then?”
“Of course it’s okay, Dane. It’s perfect.”
He shakes his head, shy smile firmly in place. “I don’t know about perfect. It’s been a really, really long time since I’ve even considered it.”
“Pfft, tell me about it.”
The rocking has slowed, but we’re still locked together, nervous laughter and all.
“Hey,” he objects, “it’s not as if you have to do anything besides sit there and look pretty. I’m the one who has to deliver the goods!”
My poor, virile, statuesque stud.
He purses his lips, appearing slightly agitated to have confessed. “You know, you can be a wee bit intimidating.”
The snort that leaves my face is not pretty. “I suppose I’ve heard that once or twice. Kind of goes with the territory, don’t you think, Dane?”
“That’s not the territory I meant.” He rolls his eyes for emphasis. “Just . . . if I can give you even half the pleasure you’ve given me, I’ll be satisfied—well, not so much satisfied as relieved.”
“Hey, come on.” I cup his jaw and force the uncomfortable eye contact. “Dane, forget that you’re gorgeous and sexy and you move with grace and power and a seemingly infinite reservoir of passion. All that aside—and believe me, any one of those gifts in and of itself would be more than enough to push my buttons—you happen to be most fortunately endowed.”
Dane surrenders to the worst case of the giggles I’ve seen yet, and it’s not long before the predictable apology follows. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Here you are making this eloquent speech,” he chortles, “and I can’t stop laughing. Sorry, sorry, sorry . . . oh god . . .” And off he goes again.
I’ll take giggles over anxiety any day. “Come on, Dane. I’m all aflutter here.”
He’s finally able to control himself. “Me too.”
“So, how are we doing this? Ass-to-the-plaster or slow, sensual screw?”
He grins at me, appreciative that I’ve broken the tension. “Since this is our first time—well, our first time like this—I was leaning more toward the love-making scenario . . . unless, of course, you had your heart set on being slammed against the wall.”
“Sweet boy, the only thing my heart is set on is you. Do with me what you will.”
I’m so focused on the sparkly grin, I don’t notice Dane’s arm sweeping behind my knees until I’m halfway to his chest.
“Whoa! Holy shit!” I sputter.
Dane’s rich laughter echoes inside his chest. “Y’okay?”
“Sure, Dane. Why wouldn’t I be?” What started out as sarcastic, or at least ironic, turns out to be an accurate reflection of how oddly relaxed I am in the powerful, confident arms of my lover.
The downward angle of Dane’s face is an unfamiliar perspective, but his warm, gentle smile is home. “I’m guessing you prefer to have your feet on the ground, but don’t worry, I’m a professional.”
“I trust you.”
His eyelids descend, showcasing those long, thick lashes as he nuzzles his nose into my cheek. “I’m not sure you know how much that means to me,” he whispers.
The moment seizes both of us, stealing all our words and leaving only soft kisses and moist eyes. Our advance toward the bed feels more like coasting; my departure from Dane’s embrace might be disconcerting if not for the cover of his body once he releases me.
His lips leave mine only to allow the shirt to be tugged over his head; seconds later, he has bared my chest as well. Propped up on palms on either side of me, he sinks down again with a torturous tease of nipple against nipple. Raw and delirious with need, I flex my hips into the body suspended just out of reach, creating a mighty clash of metal against metal.
Dane drops a knee between my legs, grinning as he reaches for my belt. “A little help, please?”
Don’t need to ask me twice.
My first-date fingers fly to his buckle, fumbling with great enthusiasm but little success. In a flurry of laughter, tangled limbs, and a mighty stream of curse words, we manage to send denim and hardware flying across the room. Without skipping a beat, Dane crawls between my legs and hooks his fingers in the waistband of my black boxer briefs, licking his lips as he frees my erection. He bends forward and swallows me whole.
Willpower is hard to come by, and as heavenly as his mouth feels around me, I want to share in the main event. I thread my fingers through his hair and give a gentle tug. To say he’s surprised is an understatement; the shocked look on his face makes me smile.
“That’s cheating,” I tease.
He shoots me a crooked grin. “I’m just getting you warmed up.”
“I’m warm. Go get what you need out of my bag. Side pouch.”
“I know where you keep it,” he says, adding, “and you’re not warm; you’re smoking hot!”
Before I can roll my eyes, he slides off the bed, head first, and walks on his hands over to where I left my duffel.
“That would be way more impressive without the underwear!” I call out.
Chuckling, he stuffs the lube and a condom—or was that two?—under the thin fabric barely covering his goods. “Yeah, but how would I hold these?” He flips onto his hands again, and all I can see from my vantage point on the pillows is a pair of artistically sculpted, upside-down legs floating back.
I’m tingling with anticipation as Dane pops onto his feet again and tugs down his briefs, somehow—because Dane is Dane—magically ending up with the supplies in his hand. He pauses at the foot of the bed, and my stomach twists.
“Second thoughts, Dane?”
“No,” he answers, “I’m just soaking it all in.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
His slow, measured gaze is a bright spotlight on my naked form. Oddly, I don’t feel self-conscious in the least but warmed from the glow of his affection. I shift, folding my arms behind my head on the pillow, posing immodestly for Dane’s enjoyment, which is clearly evident in the wide smile spreading across his face.
Lifting one knee onto the comforter, he asks, “Ready?”
“Somehow, knowing you, I doubt that, but I will say I’m eager. How’s that?”
His smile fades as he closes the distance between us, playfulness giving way to intensity. Acutely aware of how to use his body to its fullest advantage, Dane caresses every inch of me with every inch of him. To experience Dane as a lover is to thoroughly understand the infinite nature of the man’s kindness, honesty, and generosity.
A few strategic strokes of Dane’s tongue could bring me off in minutes—and doesn’t he know it!—but tonight’s lapping has a purpose that’s new for us. The head of hair swirling between my legs offers far more than a tease; the tender gesture is about Dane taking responsibility for readying my body—a heady insight for me.
Pressing open my thighs, Dane rolls onto his side, resting his cheek against my leg and gazing up at my face. I can’t speak over the lump in my throat, but I run my fingers through his hair and return his contented smile. Without fanfare, his fingertip slides to my slick hole, pressing against the tight muscle whose entire job is to push things out. I let out a soft moan as instinct battles trust. It really has been a while for me.
Add patience to Dane’s list of virtues. Advance, retreat, rest, and repeat. His efforts are rewarded as the tight ring of muscle lets him through—welcomes him, in fact—which is about the same time my eyes roll back in my head and pretty much stay there.
“Feel good?” His tone tells the real story. He’s experiencing every twist and thrust as if that finger—now those fingers—were inside him instead of me.
He smiles at me, and I open my thighs. I need so much more. “I want you, Dane. Please.”
Holy shit! I am begging! The boy has turned me into a slut!
Dane wastes no time, performing some stealth panther move that lands him on his knees between my thighs. He rolls down the condom and squirts a huge glob of lube below my balls. The cool gel slithers down my crack, and Dane smears it all around like a bartender pouring out an entire jug of Gallo to fill a shot glass. Not his most delicate performance, perhaps, but the boy is taking no chances with me, and his zeal is certainly appreciated.
He wriggles into place, lifting my left ankle onto his right shoulder and vice versa on the other side.
“Okay?” he asks.
Not real clear on whether he’s asking if I’m okay with him breaking both my legs or if I’m ready for him to enter me, I give him an unequivocal, “Hell, yes.”
The tip meets my body—hello there, handsome—and my ass is well beyond playing hard to get. Dane drops a soft kiss on my calf as he advances inside me, and pretty soon, I can’t tell his moans from mine.
He fills me . . . and then some. Dane tenses with the understanding, but I reach for his hip and pull him forward. I want all of him, want him to find his home inside me, and I force myself to relax through the burn.
“Oh my GOD! You’re . . . so . . . tight! Does that feel good?”
Dane’s achieved backward-eye-rolling status, and he’s barely breathing. I can’t say I’m doing much better—especially with my stomach folded in half.
Somewhere deep inside my belly, a profound tickle of pleasure becomes a gathering force. A single buffalo finds one friend and another, and soon there’s a stampede running full force toward a mighty orgasm.
Shit, he’s honest-to-god waiting for an answer?
“Yes, yesss, feels gooood!”
He slides a slippery hand around my cock. “Come with me?” Dane’s hand isn’t following any rules, pumping without rhythm or regard for the pounding inside me. My brain is a scrambled mess of signals I can’t sort out, not with the buffalo hooves thundering . . .
For those few seconds while bliss reduces my world to pinpricks of sensation, the only thing that grounds me to planet earth is the face of my beautiful lover. He’s not the first I’ve let into these intimate spaces—my heart, my soul, the depths of my body—but I strongly suspect he will be the last.
Dane holds out as long as he can, but even he cannot command his eyes to stay open when he hits his peak. Grinding and thrusting and chasing his pleasure, he lives for the briefest snippet of time in a raw, selfish state that ends the very moment the last drop of cum hits the condom. His first conscious thought is for me.
Almost guiltily, Dane gently slides my ankles off his shoulders. Sitting back on his ankles, he asks, “How was it for you?”
Best I can offer is a lazy smile. “C’mere and I’ll tell you all about it.”
High on endorphins and relieved to have the debut behind us, Dane dive-bombs into my open arms.
He snuggles into my chest, neither of us much caring about the sticky soup.
“You did great, sweetheart.”
“Thanks. So did you.”
“Psshh, all I had to do was lie here and look pretty.”
Dane chuckles, his fingertips tracing tiny circles around my nipples. “This is a day I will not soon forget.”
“Yeah, Dane, it’s right up there for me, too. I can’t say everything went exactly as planned—thanks to you,” I start, pausing when he looks at me with his you-know-you-love-my-little-surprises smirk, “but I could not be any happier with how everything worked out. And here we are, and that happened . . .”
“It did.” Proud grin.
My fingers skip through his hair. “And we have all day tomorrow to relax and play . . .”
“Yes, sweet boy. You didn’t think I’d forget about your spanking, did you?”
His eager smile gives him away. “No, Master. I did not.”
I love how he does that, switches so easily into his roles, a seasoned actor making a quick backstage wardrobe change.
“Don’t worry, Dane. There will be plenty of time for dancing, too, if that’s what you feel like doing.”
“I’ll leave that to you—after you sleep on it. For now . . . how would you like to go grab the poetry book out of my bag?”
His eyes light up as he seizes one more chance to be spectacular tonight. “Love to. Lemme just . . .” he tugs off the condom, ties it off, and jogs to the bathroom. “Okay!” He gives me a little wave before spinning two cartwheels toward the door.
“Boy, would I love to see that in slow motion! There was so much going on, I really couldn’t focus.”
Dane is laughing as he walks back to the bed like an ordinary—albeit flawless—person and hands me the book. I pull back the sheets and fluff our pillows even though I know my body will be his mattress while I read. As he settles into my side and cocoons us with the covers, I can’t contain my loud, contented sigh.
“God, Dane, you make me so damn happy.”
“That’s the plan,” he says, adding a soft hum.
I bookmarked three poems earlier, not knowing what kind of mood we’d both be in after the evening’s activities, but there’s no question which I will read him.
“To the Desert, by Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
“I came to you one rainless August night.
You taught me how to live without the rain.
You are thirst and thirst is all I know.
You are sand, wind, sun, and burning sky,
The hottest blue. You blow a breeze and brand
Your breath into my mouth. You reach—then bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
You wrap your name tight around my ribs
And keep me warm. I was born for you . . .”
Dane’s arms snake around my back, and he nestles in closer.
“Above, below, by you, by you surrounded.
I wake to you at dawn. Never break your
Knot. Reach, rise, blow, Sálvame, mi dios,
Trágame, mi tierra. Salva, traga, Break me,
I am bread. I will be the water for your thirst.”
If Dane’s eyes weren’t blinking, I might guess he’d fallen asleep. I set the book on the nightstand, trying not to jostle Dane too much. Switching off the light, I sink into the comfort of the luxurious bed and my lover’s arms around me, letting my fingers find their happy place in Dane’s hair. The heat clicks off, leaving the room dead quiet, and neither of us rushes to fill the stillness.
Every few minutes, just when I start thinking he must be asleep, Dane nuzzles my belly and leaves me a tender kiss.
Dane answers back with a hesitant whisper. “Marcus?”
“What is it?”
“I just wanted to thank you.”
“Dane, you know I did that as much for my own sanity as yours. The guy is a vermin, and someone needed to exter—”
“No, not that.”
Oh. Okay. “You definitely don’t need to thank me for what just happened here.”
Dane shakes his head against my skin. “Ugh.”
“Did I get it wrong again?”
His exasperation is adorable. “I’m sorry, Dane. I’ll be quiet now.”
And I’ll wait. And that’s when it hits me: my stomach doesn’t bounce or roll. I’m not the least bit anxious. I trust Dane, and I trust us.
“I was thinking about that line you read—‘I was born for you’—and it struck me that you waited a long time for me. I’m grateful you did.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I mean, I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Liam, or anyone else for that matter. I kind of hate thinking about you being alone for all these years.”
I chuff at the implication “all these years” holds, but I don’t call him out for it. Fuck it. He’s right. “Sure would’ve been easier if I knew this pot of gold was waiting for me at the end of the rainbow.”
“Tell me about it,” he says, and my heart aches for what he endured. “I didn’t even know there was a rainbow, let alone a person like you waiting for me.”
“I think you mean a leprechaun,” I tease.
“You are a lot of things, but leprechaun isn’t one that comes to mind.”
“How about giving me a good night kiss, sweet boy?”
Dane slithers up my body, wrapping me in his sinewy arms and legs as he does. When he reaches my lips, he takes his time with a slow, deep kiss.
“Mmm, you taste like sex.”
I can feel his lips curl into a smile against my cheek. “You’re welcome.”
“Indeed. Tomorrow, we wake to a fresh start without the tyranny of abuse to plague either one of us.”
“Easy for you to say,” Dane teases. “You’re not the one due for a spanking.”
“Steady, boy! I need my sleep.”
“Yes, Master. Good night.”
“I love you, Dane.”
*Sálvame, mi dios, Trágame, mi tierra. Salva, traga.
Save me, my God. Swallow me, my land. Save, swallow.