Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“Oh fuck,” Royce swore. “I’m close. Gonna come. Fuck…”
Marc tightened his grip and hollowed his cheeks, increasing the suction. Royce was not escaping. He wanted this so fucking bad. More than relief for his own leaking cock. Royce thrust just a few more times before he came on a shout. Come hit the back of Marc’s throat, and he almost choked, but he quickly swallowed down everything that Royce gave him, letting the man’s cries of pleasure fill his ears.
Licked clean, Marc pulled away, letting his dick slip from his lips. He could feel Royce slump to his knees in front of him, with a deep exhale, as if that release had come from the depth of his soul. Something brushed against his lips, and Marc jerked before it returned a second time. Royce’s lips. He opened his mouth, and Royce’s tongue plunged inside, plundering it as if he were searching the lingering taste of himself.
“Perfect,” Royce murmured when he ended the kiss, pressing his forehead against Marc’s. “Absolutely perfect.”
Marc felt like he was glowing under the praise. Despite the thick carpet, his knees were starting to hurt like a motherfucker, and his hard-on was killing him, but it didn’t matter. He could feel Royce’s joy in the little kisses that peppered his jaw and the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s get you some relief now.”
Royce pulled away, and Marc shivered as cold air rushed in to take his place. It lasted only a second before Royce wrapped his fingers around his bicep, pulling him to his feet. He winced as his knees fought the movement and wobbled, but Royce was right there, putting Marc’s arm across his shoulder. He guided him across the room, one slow step at a time, and then let Royce push him back onto the bed.
He couldn’t stop the groan when his back hit the soft mattress, and he sank into the thick down duvet that covered his bed.
“Move back a little more.” Marc followed his direction, guessing that Royce was getting him centered on the bed. “Perfect.”
He liked that he kept repeating that word. Each time it was like a balm on his soul. Just a little more tension rolled off his shoulders, and another chunk of weight fell away. He wanted to be perfect, just for Royce, and the man currently running his fingers over his ankle made it feel possible.
Royce stood at the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped loosely around Marc’s ankle because he couldn’t stop touching him. His eyes traveled every inch of him from his long, muscular legs to his hard, leaking cock, across a broad chest to swollen lips and a flushed face half-hidden beneath the black fabric of the tie. He was goddamn gorgeous, every bit of him.
“Royce?” There was a slight waver to Marc’s voice. He knew that he was close since he was holding his ankle, but he must have been staring for too long. “You don’t have to…”
“Maybe I’m just enjoying the view.”
“Oh,” Marc said before swallowing hard.
Somewhere along the way, Marc had become incredibly easy to read. They’d spent days together. He watched Marc interacting with artists, clients, employees, friends, and his family. But ultimately, the most telling had been those little glimpses when Marc was sure that Royce’s eyes weren’t on him. When his painfully straight shoulders would finally slump under the weight of trying to maintain this perfect façade. When the mask would fall away, and he’d sigh, exhausted down to his very soul.
In those early days, everything about Marc seemed to remind him of Michael. From his long fingers and precise movements, as if each motion was to music only he could hear, to his hesitant smile and warm eyes. But Michael had never been one to hide what he was feeling, while Marc tried to conceal everything. Michael had a beautiful inner strength but had been convinced that he was weak. Marc exuded strength and confidence in everything he did, but he longed to let go and let someone else take control, to lean on their strength. He’d been able to read that in the man from the start.
God, he wanted to do just that.
He released Marc’s ankle and walked over to the nightstand, where he’d placed a condom and a bottle of lube. He tossed them onto the bed within easy reach. Marc flinched at the close sound but then took a deep breath. His hands were fisted at his sides, and his muscles were pulled tight. The combination of anticipation and need for release were stretching his control.
Crawling onto the bed, Royce settled on his knees between Marc’s legs. He slid his hands up the muscular calves, loving the rasp of dark hairs over tanned skin. He really did look as if he was made of honey, and the color was consistent almost all over. He dug his fingers in deep, massaging away the tension, until a low moan rippled from Marc’s lips. The sound went straight to his cock, stirring it back to life. The blowjob had been to take the edge off. He wanted to go slow with Marc, take him to the edge again and again, but he’d been balanced on a hair trigger.