Cricket (24 page)

Part of him felt like it was his responsibility to go and get whatever it was that he wanted. Another part told him it was a bigger deal for Ryan than it was for him, and he needed to go at the pace his partner set. Unfortunately, that kind of thinking had allowed them to carry on for months
not
having sex, and Henry was more than a little fed up.

He watched, entranced, as Ryan pushed his jeans down and stood naked at the end of Henry’s bed, hesitating for a moment and looking uncomfortable or self-conscious. Henry couldn’t tell.

“Come here,” Henry said, extending a hand, and Ryan took it, allowing himself to be pulled down onto the sheets.

Lying back, Henry invited soft kisses that trailed over his chest, whispering up the side of his neck as Ryan nudged his knees farther apart and chuckled at Henry’s attempt to encourage more touching, or more friction, or more
something.

When Ryan pulled one of Henry’s nipples with his teeth, Henry hissed, arching his back into the sensation and feeling the hot throb of arousal through his body. Ryan was getting increasingly bold with his touches, less afraid to explore and find out just what elicited a reaction.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Henry wrapped his fingers around Ryan’s erection and slid his palm down the hard flesh. He appreciated the twitch in Ryan’s jaw, the only tell that this was what Ryan wanted. They were both hard. They were both ready. Fuck, was he ready.

Henry had stocked his nightstand with a bottle of lube and a box of condoms in anticipation of this moment. To his amusement, Ryan seemed shocked to find the lube already opened and the condoms still sealed.

“Who else do you think I would have fucked since I’ve been here?” Henry murmured against Ryan’s neck as Ryan fiddled with the wrapper, then the box, then the foil, then the latex, finally smoothing it over his cock.

“No one,” Ryan said with more than a little edge of possessiveness.

“Exactly.”

Ryan slicked the lube down his cock, squeezed more out onto his fingers, and pressed it against Henry’s opening, patiently waiting with even pressure until Henry’s body welcomed those curious fingers inside.

It was all quick and messy, and Henry expected it to be over too soon, but he didn’t care. His body was calling the shots now, not any rational part of his mind, and he spread his legs wide, offering himself.

Ryan’s eyes dropped to where the first two fingers of his right hand were now knuckle deep inside Henry, and they darkened, his throat letting a tiny noise escape. With his free hand pinching at his own nipple, Ryan’s fingers gave an experimental wriggle, and Henry arched his back off the bed, both his body and mind overcome with the possibilities.

Of all the things Henry had imagined their first fuck to be like, sweet was not one of them. Ryan was undoubtedly sweet, though, once he’d withdrawn his fingers and pulled Henry closer, lifting one of Henry’s ankles to rest on his shoulder and kissing the sensitive skin that covered his ankle bone.

“Ready?” Ryan whispered, yes, sweetly, and Henry nodded. And smiled.

Maybe it was just instinct, or maybe he had done this before and was lying. But the first achingly slow push forward felt like Ryan was claiming him, and Henry screwed his eyes shut, not ready to expose himself any further.

Henry grunted around the initial burn and groaned as Ryan filled him, then fell forward onto his hands so their chests were pressed tightly together. Like this, their mouths could move together seamlessly, exchanging kisses and whispers of encouragement, long, soft sighs, and tight exclamations when something felt particularly good.

Henry hadn’t expected it to feel this good.

And then there was the love. Among the sweetness, and the tenderness, and the fucking-good-at-sex… ness…. There was no way to miss the love that seemed to pour out of Ryan at every last point where skin touched skin, even more when they finally locked eyes.

Ryan had quickly fallen into a slow, punishing rhythm, moving his hips at exactly the right pace, exactly the right angle, to turn Henry from a man confident of his own body and desires to a pool of mush content to lie back and just feel.

His fingers grasped inefficiently at the sheets, holding on for dear life as Ryan filled him over and over and swallowed each one of Henry’s cries of pleasure.

“I’m close,” Henry murmured, his lips roaming over Ryan’s neck.

“I think I’ve been close forever,” Ryan whispered back, and Henry laughed.

“Come on, then,” Henry challenged and leaned back, relaxing his spine and letting Ryan do what he wanted to take them both over the edge.

There was something incredibly erotic about the way that Ryan’s tongue stole out to wet his lips, and Henry grabbed his own cock in response, squeezing tight, a warning to himself to wait.

They shifted together until both Henry’s legs were wrapped around Ryan’s waist and his arms loosely looped around his neck, holding on. Still, he wasn’t really ready for the hitch of Ryan’s hips that brought them even closer together, and the hard, snapping rhythm that made him cry out, over and over.

His orgasm hit hard, draining his body of energy as he spilled over his own hand and let the clench-and-release contractions in his ass pull Ryan’s orgasm out too. With zingy aftershocks skimming all over his skin, Henry allowed himself a long, satisfied moan as Ryan collapsed onto his body, his head pressed against Henry’s shoulder.

They would need to move soon. Biology and time were working against them, but for that moment Henry was content to lie back with someone he cared for sprawled over his chest. His fingertips traced the words he didn’t dare say in the space between Ryan’s shoulder blades, unsure if the tiny shiver Ryan gave in response was because he understood or if he just felt it.

Sixteen

W
AKING
up with Ryan in his bed was a novelty. The man was usually up and about long before Henry surfaced, and he never expected Ryan to change his routine, just because of what they’d gotten up to the night before.

“What are you still doing here?” Henry asked as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

Ryan looked down from his seated position, smiling indulgently and brushing Henry’s hair back from his face.

“Just thought I’d stay and wait for you this morning.”

“Don’t you have to work?”

He shrugged. “It can wait.”

“Oh.” Henry struggled to free himself from the tangle of blankets. “I need to pee.”

As he stood and took a few steps toward the bathroom, he heard Ryan’s surprised inhalation.

“What?” he said over his shoulder.

“Nothing. Nothing. What the hell are you wearing?”

Henry glanced down at his brightly colored jock, which he’d slipped into after cleaning himself up the night before, and smirked. “Not a lot?”

“I’d say,” Ryan muttered.

Since he really did have to pee, Henry abandoned the conversation to take care of business but made sure he was tucked away nicely to ensure maximum bulge when he returned to bed.

Saying nothing, but watching him over the top of a book he must have plucked from Henry’s small library, Ryan blinked owlishly behind his glasses as Henry slid back under the sheets, feeling like this was his morning to make the right sort of moves.

“Is that even comfortable?” Ryan asked as Henry draped himself over his bed partner, seeking warmth and attention. The book was quickly cast aside.

“Mhmm,” Henry said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s like a hug for your junk.”

Ryan snorted in amusement. “I don’t know if my junk wants to be hugged.”

“Trust me, it does,” Henry said, pleased as Ryan slid farther down under the covers. “I’ve got more if you want to try one. Lots of pretty colors too.”

“No thanks,” Ryan said. “I’m more of a boxers guy myself.”

“I’d noticed.”

Their final exchange of words and wit happened with their noses practically touching, Ryan’s hands going, maybe unsurprisingly, to cup Henry’s ass. As their mouths met in a sweet slide of lips and tongues, Ryan pulled at the thick elastic strap that sat along the curve of Henry’s cheek and let it snap back into place with a satisfying sound.

Henry allowed himself a moment of hesitation to decide if he was pissed off or aroused by this. Arousal quickly won out, and he let out a little growl and pounced onto a giggling Ryan, pinning him to the bed and quickly aligning their groins.

“I didn’t want you to think I was the sort of guy who would fuck and run….”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Henry said as he kissed down over Ryan’s chest. “But unnecessary. I understand if you have to go to work.”

“I work here,” Ryan said, the sentence ending on a gasp as Henry licked a wet stripe over one of his nipples, humming with pleasure at the taste and the reaction he’d elicited. “I’m the boss. I can start whenever I want.”

“Yes, sir,” Henry said. He smiled cheekily.

“And besides… I’m supposed to be in the office today. Catching up on paperwork.”

“Excellent.”

Henry sat back and pulled Ryan’s boxers off, throwing them unceremoniously over his shoulder before leaning back in to lick and suck at his hipbones.

“Oh, fuck,” Ryan gasped. “Henry, you don’t have to….”

“Oh, if I don’t have to,” Henry said sarcastically, “I won’t bother, then. I was only doing it out of a sense of duty.”

Ryan blushed and scratched his nose. “I’d like you to.”

“Say it,” Henry said, feeling wicked now.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Henry, suck my fucking dick.”

Henry laughed. Those words were dripping with sarcasm, but he knew how true they really were.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

With his fingers lightly grasping the base of Ryan’s cock, Henry tested out his previously well-trained gag reflex and swallowed it down as far as he could. Not bad—Ryan certainly seemed to appreciate it—but there was room for some improvement.

It was nice to indulge in a leisurely blow job, especially when the recipient was so receptive to his efforts. This was something that Henry was sure he was good at and enjoyed. He liked the taste of another man in his mouth, he liked the power rush, he liked being able to give another person pleasure in this way.

He took hold of Ryan’s balls by instinct and rolled them between his fingertips, then stroked a bit farther back.

“Do you mind if I touch you here?” Henry asked, allowing his breath to fan out over the wet head of Ryan’s cock.

“Yeah, okay,” Ryan agreed.

“If you don’t like it, just say and I’ll stop,” Henry advised and returned his mouth to its previous task.

Henry kept his fingers purposefully gentle, stroking lightly and exploring rather than poking or prodding, deciding that he wasn’t going to try and push inside Ryan, not yet. That could come later, if Ryan wanted it.

For now, his focus was concentrated on the cock in his mouth and the delicious rumble of Ryan’s moans. He could feel Ryan holding out on him, and he understood why. As far as Henry was concerned, there was nothing wrong in prolonging a blow job for as long as humanly possible.

When he got breathless, Henry pulled back and looked up at Ryan with glassy eyes, his hand continuing to pump at Ryan’s cock with a fierce rhythm. He smiled at the lost, aroused man who was thrusting his hips into each slick slide of Henry’s hand, clearly desperate for the last little twist to pull his orgasm from his body.

With his hand increasing in speed, sensing this was what Ryan needed, Henry leaned down once more, sucked one of Ryan’s balls into his mouth, and flicked his tongue gently against the loose skin. He almost chuckled as Ryan thrust his hips harder, grunted, and spilled over Henry’s hand. He was no amateur at this.

“Good?” Henry inquired as Ryan combed his hair back from his face and groaned lightly.

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Really fucking good.”

Henry maneuvered himself to lie next to Ryan, his body curled into the other man’s side, fingers delightedly exploring the red flush over Ryan’s chest. He pressed a kiss against the sticky skin and rolled off the bed, once more heading to the bathroom.

“Hang on. Don’t you want me to return the favor?” Ryan called from the bed.

Tossing a cheeky smirk over his shoulder, Henry wriggled his ass, still contained in the bright jockstrap.

“You should know by now… I like to jerk off in the shower. You can watch if you like.”

He laughed, delighted, as Ryan jumped off the bed and chased him into the bathroom.

T
HERE
was a reason why Henry had gone over to Paul’s house early one morning. That reason vanished from his mind when Shenal opened the door. Saying nothing, not even a hello, Henry raised his eyebrows and pasted an “Oh, really” expression on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Shenal said. “I came over for breakfast.”

“Mhmm.”

“Paul got called out. There’s a man in hospital up at Weston who wanted to see a priest. Paul’s gone to see him.”

“That’s not a very nice way to start the day,” Henry said as Shenal showed him through the house to the kitchen. She looked very at home as she made him a coffee and invited him to sit down.