Part 16 (1/2)

He hoped Haris knew he was joking. When the temperature of the water rose, he sighed with relief.

”Trying to close your pores?” Tyler asked.

Haris scowled but Tyler smiled. Something about Haris glaring when he didn't really mean it flipped his switches. ”You're a big guy. You've probably missed was.h.i.+ng a bit. Like me to check?”

Haris pulled him into his arms, sc.r.a.ped his lips across Tyler's, and Tyler melted against him. He slid his tongue over Haris's and at once lost control of the kiss. And of the situation. Haris pinned him against the tiles with the entire length of his body and ravaged his mouth; licking, biting and plunging his tongue as deep as he could. A s.h.i.+ver of uncertainty snaked down his spine at Haris's roughness, though when Tyler closed his eyes and let Haris do what he wanted, it wasn't because Prescott was the alternative but because he liked it.

He loved the raw strength of Haris, his edge of desperation, the need he couldn't hide. Tyler might tell himself he wasn't a bottom, but he suspected there was a submissive inside him in constant battle with his Dom, which was why the BDSM world was not for him.

When Haris grasped his a.s.s in both hands and lifted him off his feet, Tyler clung onto his shoulders.

”Put your legs around me,” Haris said.

Tyler slid an arm around his neck and wrapped his legs around Haris's waist. Haris pressed his lips against Tyler's and with their bodies and c.o.c.ks flush together, he walked out of the bathroom. They fell on the bed in a writhing mix of tangled arms and legs, and as their wet bodies linked and unlinked in simple puzzles, Haris didn't stop kissing him and Tyler's worries ebbed away.

He didn't think he'd ever been with anyone who kissed so much or so well. He didn't encourage kissing if he didn't fancy the guy. Hardly taking a moral stance considering what other body parts he was prepared to introduce his tongue to, but a kiss on the lips when he felt no deeper attraction than a quick f.u.c.k seemed like a betrayal of something deep inside him. Haris kissed as though he meant it, except Tyler didn't know what it was. Getting his money's worth? Affection? Just the way he was?

When the guy finally moved away, Tyler s.h.i.+vered. His damp, cooling skin craved the warmth it had lost.

”Open your eyes,” Haris said with a croaky voice.

Tyler looked up to see him wearing the Peruvian hat and nothing else. A lump erupted in his throat.

”I believe we had a deal,” Haris said.

”So we did.” Tyler slid down the bed to the ottoman at the foot, settled on it and lifted his feet to the seat, spreading his legs. He slowly fisted his c.o.c.k from bottom to top and then bent his spine and lowered his head.

Haris moved closer, his breathing ragged. Tyler curled his spine even more and rolled the flat of his tongue over the spongy head of his shaft. The catch in Haris's breathing was audible. He dropped to his knees in front of him, his exhalations. .h.i.tting Tyler's b.a.l.l.s. Tyler wrapped his hand tighter around his c.o.c.k and brought the head back to his lips. His tongue darted out to lick up a bead of pre-come and then he opened his mouth wide, enveloped the top couple of inches of his d.i.c.k and sucked.

”Oh my G.o.d,” Haris muttered, his green, almost feline eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Saliva dripped from Tyler's mouth onto his d.i.c.k as he slid his c.o.c.k back and forth over his tongue. He pumped faster, sucked harder and it wasn't long before he felt the familiar tightening sensation crawling through his b.a.l.l.s. He unfolded himself to straighten his spine and calm his heart, and stared at Haris.

”Impressed?” Tyler asked.

”Can you lick your b.u.t.t?”

Tyler laughed. ”No.”

”Going to stop if I take this d.a.m.n hat off?”

”No.”

The offending article flew across the room.

”I don't think I've ever seen anything hotter in my life,” Haris said.

”Apart from molten rock.”

Haris smiled.

”And the sun,” Tyler added.

”I think you'd give the sun a run for its money.” Haris leaned forward and licked up the length of Tyler's c.o.c.k.

He shuddered with pleasure.

”Make yourself come,” Haris said and wrapped his mouth around Tyler's b.a.l.l.s, tugging on one and then the other.

Tyler groaned. He bent again and squeezed his d.i.c.k hard at the same time as he pinched his lips around the head. Did the same thing over and over. Rhythm was most of it. Haris's mouth and eyes were the rest. His c.o.c.k swelled and jerked, and he blocked the first spurt with his tongue, allowing the come to slide out of his mouth and trail down his shaft onto his hand and Haris's lips. Tyler swallowed the next jet, and the rest he let drip onto his c.o.c.k. He uncurled and sprawled, panting, his hand lazily playing with his come-smeared, softening d.i.c.k.

When Haris licked him clean, his heart beat so hard he thought it would burst.

”Get up,” Haris said.

”I've put my back out.”

He laughed at Haris's stricken expression, rolled to his feet, took a few steps and stretched. ”S'okay. Back in again.” He dropped to his hands and knees, and arched his spine up and down.

Haris sat on the ottoman and beckoned.

Tyler crawled over and knelt between his outstretched legs. Haris's c.o.c.k was thick and dark with blood, rising over taut stomach muscles. Tyler ran the blunt edge of his nail inside the slit at the top and Haris let out a strangled gasp. A glossy pearl formed and Tyler scooped it up with his tongue, allowing it to sit there for a while before he pulled it into his mouth.

”I want your a.s.s.” Haris's voice sounded husky.

Tyler pushed to his feet and watched as Haris sheathed himself in a condom and rubbed lube down his length before tossing the tube aside. Tyler climbed onto the ottoman, crouched over Haris's lap and brought the sheathed d.i.c.k to rest under his a.n.u.s. Haris stared into his eyes, grasped Tyler's b.u.t.t with both hands and gave the cheeks a hard squeeze. The rounded head of Haris's c.o.c.k nudged at the entrance to his channel, coaxing him into opening. His muscles gave way almost instantly and Tyler impaled himself an inch at a time. His body clenched and burned around the intrusion, but it was Haris who groaned, his low rumble filtering through Tyler.

”That feels so good,” Haris whispered.

He wrapped his hand around Tyler's neck and pulled him forward, taking his mouth in a hard kiss and at the same time bucking his hips to drive his c.o.c.k the rest of the way home. Haris swallowed Tyler's gasp and kissed away the discomfort until only pleasure remained. He clung onto Haris's shoulders and began to move, lifting himself off the shaft buried deep inside him and moaning as his muscles fought to keep Haris just where he was. Any idea that he was in control vanished when Haris drove into him, gripping him around the waist and rocking up, sending every nerve in his body into a state of frenzy.

Impossibly, his spent c.o.c.k began to thicken. Tyler raised his head and his gaze locked on Haris whose attention was so focused on him that it felt like a caress against his skin. He could hear someone whimpering, hoped it wasn't him but had to accept it probably was. He sank down on Haris's c.o.c.k, forcing it even deeper and then tilted his hips to bring it into contact with his prostate.

Sweet Jesus. They f.u.c.ked each other, each fighting for control, Tyler driving himself down onto Haris's c.o.c.k as Haris jerked his hips at a fevered pace to power into his a.s.s.

”f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k,” Haris gasped.

The motion of his c.o.c.k caught Tyler's prostate again and he cried out as his muscles clenched. Haris stiffened and a moment later his body spasmed. As he slumped back with a soft moan, Tyler dropped forward, pressing his face to the junction of his neck, tasting the sharp salty tang of sweat.

As their breathing returned to normal, they crawled into bed, and Haris pulled the covers over them. Tyler registered his c.o.c.k was still hard but he was too shattered to do anything about it. Oblivion beckoned.

Tyler's breathing quickened, his pulse raced and he fought to stay calm. Even though he was dimly aware in the deep recesses of his mind that this was a dream and not reality, the power of his memory was strong enough to make him feel trapped and afraid.

There had been no sign of trouble that day. But he was only seven years old, what did he know? His dad had come home from work and taken them all out for a meal at a local pub. Tyler had sausage and chips because his mum never cooked those. They weren't healthy. Then his dad had told them they were going on a skiing holiday in January. Tyler had been so excited, he'd spilled his lemonade. His mum had tsked when his dad let him have a sip of his beer. It tasted horrible. Though he'd lied and said he liked it. He remembered his dad laughing. My dad laughed. The memory almost choked him.

They went home and when they reached the drive, his dad got out of the car to lock the gate behind them like he always did before he drove up to the house. His sister Claire and brother Noel had gone to their rooms to watch TV. His mum told him to go straight to sleep, but later he'd heard one of the dogs make a funny noise in the yard and he'd snuck downstairs in his pajamas to see if he was all right.

Not all right.

Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d. Got to do something. Got to...