Make Me Soar (36 page)

He broke the kiss and held Dorian steady, one hand at his nape, his fingertips slowly tracing every letter over and over again. “Take out my cock.”

Dorian complied instantly, fingers trembling as he unfastened Alan’s jeans and pulled the zipper down, revealing Alan’s turgid length.

“Pull down my jeans to my ankles,” Alan instructed.

Dorian clambered off Alan’s lap and tugged eagerly at the offending garment with gratifying enthusiasm. Then he was back, making Alan bite back his groan at the feel of that arse against the heated flesh of his now solid dick. Alan went back to brushing his fingertips over the scar, his heart soaring when Dorian didn’t react with revulsion but rolled his hips, his breathing rapid. Alan reached between Dorian’s thighs for his own cock and held it tight around the base, letting the head rub over Dorian’s entrance. Dorian moaned softly, pushing back against it, rocking on Alan’s lap so his dick slid up and down his crease.

“You want this cock inside
my
hole?”

Dorian’s eyes were so large and round. “Yes, Sir,” he said breathlessly. Then he stilled. “We don’t have a condom.”

Alan grinned once more. “After that time on the rug, I figured we’d best be prepared. There’s lube and condoms in the drawer of the coffee table.”

Dorian was off him in a heartbeat, pulling the drawer open. Alan caught his tiny gasp.

“
Flavored
condoms?”

“Mint, I think.” He grasped his cock, holding it steady, precome already visible, gleaming in the firelight. “And I’d like you to put it on with your mouth.” He smiled at the thought of how the condom would feel inside Dorian’s arse.

Dorian knelt between his legs and pushed them wider apart. He stared up at Alan, eyes shining, creamy skin almost glowing in the light from the flames. The foil was discarded, and Dorian placed the rolled latex onto the wide head. He proceeded to unroll it, lips pressed tightly around the thick shaft, slowly, so slowly moving lower until his nose was buried in Alan’s wiry pubic hair, his dick buried in that tight throat.

“Oh my God.” Alan had forgotten how good Dorian was at doing that. With a supreme effort, he grasped Dorian’s hair and tugged, bringing him off Alan’s length with an audible pop. “Ride me,” he ground out.

Dorian sprang up from his kneeling position and sat astride him, reaching back to ease Alan’s cock into him, his breath escaping in gasps and moans as he sank lower and lower, impaling himself on the rigid shaft. Alan held back his moan at the feel of that tight heat around him. When his firm arse cheeks met Alan’s groin, Dorian sighed with pleasure. Alan was overjoyed when he resumed his caress of Dorian’s lower back and the lad’s noises of desire didn’t alter one jot. He looked up at his submissive, one hand at Dorian’s waist, the other over the scar.

“You feel damn good wrapped around my dick.” Then he grinned. “Now ride me, boy.”

Dorian let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Yes, Sir.” He began to move, slowly at first, hips rolling, lower body undulating as he rocked back and forth on Alan’s cock. His own dick was like steel, pointing upward and leaking precome. Alan kept himself as still as possible, loving the sensation of hard cock sliding in and out of Dorian’s narrow channel, molten heat surrounding his shaft. He couldn’t tear his eyes off Dorian. He looked
amazing
, skin flushed, mouth open, rocking faster.

“Love the way you feel inside,” Alan groaned. “All silken heat, pulling me deeper into you.” He grabbed tight hold of Dorian’s hip, holding him steady, and pushed up into him in one long thrust. Dorian cried out, the sound loud and so very erotic. Alan stroked over the brand, shoving up into Dorian at the same time. “
My
hole.” He punched out the words, punctuating each one with a powerful thrust all the way inside him. “Mine…. You’re
mine
…
all of you belongs to
me
.” He increased the pace, sliding faster, harder, Dorian’s fingers digging into him with every glide of his shaft as he buried himself up to the hilt. His balls tightened, electricity racing up his spine as he approached orgasm.

Dorian leaned back, hands on Alan’s knees to support himself as he rocked faster, dick bobbing. A loud moan escaped him when Alan nudged his gland. “Oh, God, yes, Sir,
yes
!”

Alan’s body tingled with the need to come. He was aware of
everything
: the sounds that poured out of his sub; the heat emanating from him; the frantic rock ’n’ roll of Dorian’s hips that signaled the lad’s imminent climax; his flushed face, eyes focused on Alan; the smell of sex and Dorian’s musky scent that assaulted his senses. A feeling of pure joy filled him. This was sheer
heaven
.

“Close, Sir, so close.” Dorian stared into his eyes, breathing heavily, hips bucking.

“Want to feel you come on my cock,” he gasped out. His gaze lowered to where his dick thrust in and out of Dorian’s body, and he groaned at the sight, his own orgasm hitting him with full force. “Oh
fuck
.” The exclamation was torn from his lips, and he filled Dorian with one forceful thrust, growling as he came deep inside him.

Dorian shuddered, his cock pulsing out hot come over Alan’s shirt, his body clamping down on Alan’s shaft. “Fuck,” he said weakly, legs shaking, chest rising and falling. He leaned forward, his head coming to rest on Alan’s shoulder. Alan enfolded Dorian in his arms and held him while his balls emptied themselves into the latex, dick still wedged inside the furnace that was Dorian. Alan turned his head to bring their mouths together in kiss after kiss, each one more tender than the last, until they were finally still in each other’s arms.

Alan regained his composure, forcing himself to breathe more evenly. He moved his hands lower to stroke over Dorian’s back, fingertips tracing the brand. “
My
hole, Dorian,” he affirmed quietly. Dorian nuzzled into his neck with a whimper. Alan brought his lips to Dorian’s ear. “The next time you touch this brand or look at it, I want you to remember how you feel at this moment. Remember the feeling of my fingers caressing it while my cock stroked in and out of
my
hole.”

Dorian shivered. “Yes, Sir.” He straightened and met Alan’s gaze, pupils so large, the brown hue of his eyes almost disappeared. “Your hole.”

Another shudder rippled through him when Alan brushed once more over the brand, only this time there was an accompanying low moan of desire. The sound went straight to Alan’s dick, but he kept still, concentrating instead on the feel of Dorian pressed against his chest, perspiration soaking into his shirt, while Alan stroked over his scarred flesh with gentle fingers.

Dorian’s mouth sought his. “Kiss me?” he murmured against Alan’s lips.

Alan was only too happy to oblige.

They sat like that for what felt like a long time, kissing and caressing each other as their mutual orgasms ebbed away. Alan had never felt more at peace, sitting with his beautiful boy in his arms. He was reluctant to move, for fear of breaking the wonderful spell that their lovemaking seemed to have cast over the room.

Lovemaking….

Alan held Dorian, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, his heart beating against Alan’s, and replayed the scene in his head. It might have begun with the intention of ridding Dorian of the association the brand had held for him, but along the way something had changed. The joy that surged through Alan as he moved inside Dorian, filling him, caressing him, had been something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. More importantly, it was a joy he never thought he’d experience again.

Maybe Thomas was onto something, after all.

A
LAN
CLOSED
the lid of his laptop with a snap and pushed the small table away from him. He took a moment to compose himself. God, he was still shaking.

I certainly didn’t see
this
one coming.
One minute he’d been pounding away on the keyboard, fingers dancing over the shiny black keys, some of the letters already starting to wear off. The next? Trembling all over and fighting the urge to weep.

Alan shook himself angrily.
Get a grip
. Not that it was unusual to become embroiled in his writing. If he was dealing with an emotive subject or a tense, stressful situation, he’d often find himself in the same state as his protagonists. He knew he’d done a good job when he’d read over the chapter and be overcome by the end of it.

But this? The memories had assaulted him, thick and fast, welling up from whichever dark place in his subconscious he’d stored them in, hidden from sight.

How long has it been since I’ve thought about Luke?

Long enough that it felt like a knife to the chest, leaving him raw and trembling in its wake.

He pulled his robe tight around his body and hugged it to him, a shiver running through him, this time caused by the cool morning air. Alan peered at the clock above the fireplace. Is
it morning yet?

“Sir, what are you doing up?” Dorian’s sleep-heavy voice gave him a start. He was standing in the doorway, wrapped up in his green robe and rubbing his eyes. “It’s only four o’clock.”

How long has he been standing there?

Alan sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. I had this idea for the book that wouldn’t leave me alone, so I thought I’d get up and write.” He gave Dorian a smile. “Go back to bed. It’s too cold to be down here.”

Dorian yawned and ran his fingers through his hair. “Nah, I’m awake now. But if you’re going to keep writing, maybe you should light a fire?” He winked. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

Alan watched him trudge out of the lounge and shook his head. Reluctant as he was to have the lad awake at this ungodly hour, he couldn’t deny he welcomed the company to distract him. He set about making up the fire, after clearing away the ashes from the previous night. By the time Dorian carried two steaming mugs into the lounge, the flames were already climbing higher, the fire starting to push its heat out into the cold room.

Dorian handed him a mug and then sat cross-legged on the rug, his face glowing in the firelight. For a minute or two, the only sounds in the room were the crackle and hiss as logs caught, the flames flickering and dancing around them. Alan relaxed into his armchair, warming his hands, feeling his earlier tension slip away.

Dorian sipped his coffee and regarded Alan, those brown eyes grave and alert. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Alan blinked. “Excuse me?”

Dorian smiled, but his expressive eyes didn’t alter. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something when I first stuck my head around the door, but you seemed lost in your own world. And from what I could see, it wasn’t a good place.”

Shit
. “I didn’t even hear you come downstairs.” Not surprising, really. Alan had been so caught up in his memories, he doubted he’d have heard anything.

The lad’s smile was sympathetic. “Yeah, I sort of figured that.” He met Alan’s gaze. “But to be fair, I was going to pretend I hadn’t seen anything and just go with the whole
I’m-still-half-asleep
routine.” He shrugged. “I changed my mind. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

Talk about hitting the nail on the head
.

Dorian studied him, head tilted. “So do you want to talk about it, or shall I shut up and let it go?” His expression was calm.

Lord, it was tempting to take the latter option, but then Alan reflected on all the talks they’d shared during the past few weeks. Dorian had really opened up to him. Maybe he owed it to Dorian to be as honest. After all, hadn’t
he
demanded honesty from his sub?

Alan pondered for a moment how best to begin. “Right now I’m writing something that’s a new departure for me. It’s a Young Adult novel.”

Dorian arched his eyebrows. “Wow. Yeah, that’s different. You normally write about older guys, don’t you?” When Alan stared at him, the lad gave a sheepish grin. “Oh, come on. I work on your website, remember? I see all your books.”

“True,” Alan conceded with a nod. “Okay, I’m going to publish this one under a different pen name. There are guidelines for writing YA stuff, such as going easy on the sex, for one thing. And if you think about
some
of the scenes Lauren writes, yeah, I wouldn’t want my YA readers to come across
those
books.”

Dorian snickered, and Alan knew in that instant he was recalling the hot sex scene from Alan’s book. “I can understand that.” Then he schooled his facial features. “Go on.” He edged forward on the rug until he was sitting at Alan’s feet, leaning against his leg, regarding him with that same calm expression. Alan stroked his tousled hair, the action soothing and intimate.

“There’s a saying among writers,” Alan began, “that you write what you know. That doesn’t necessarily mean researching a subject so you can write knowledgeably about it. It’s more about drawing on past experiences and relationships, to add depth to your writing.”

“Makes sense.” Dorian was looking up at him, his gaze steady, his body warm against Alan’s leg.