A Warm Heart in Winter(23)

“Let’s hold off,” Blay said reasonably. As he rearranged himself inside his slacks.

“No.” Qhuinn tugged on that shirt again. “Gimme. You promised.”

“I did not.” Blay started to smile in a half-lidded way. “I did no such thing.”

“Fine, the promise was implied. By your erection.” Tug. Tug. Tug. “I locked the door. And no one’s down here.”

“Qhuinn, you can’t even get on your side—”

The gasp that cut off all that being-logical was so damned gratifying. And exactly what Qhuinn had been going for as he’d transferred his hand from the buttons on that fine, pressed dress shirt to a rather tented region south of the waistband of those fine, pressed slacks.

Right onto the hard length of Blay’s arousal, actually.

“I told you before,” Qhuinn murmured as he ran his pierced tongue over his upper lip. “I don’t have to move much. You can do the active part. I’ll just open my mouth.”

“Qhuinn . . .”

Okay, that was a yes. That tone, with its pleading lilt, was a total, fucking, red-hot yes.

“All you have to do is put it in. Then pull it out. After that, you push it in deeper, to the back of my throat. And out again. You do the work. I’ll just suck on you. Lick on you. Make you come in my—”

The groan that Blay let out was so long, so tortured, so hungry that it made Qhuinn’s hips jerk of their own volition.

“That’s right,” he said as he lowered his lids. “Let me see you unzip and take it out.”

Blay looked to the door. “We’re locked in?”

“Absolutely.”

Now, all things considered, Qhuinn had no problem having sex in front of an audience. Then again, when you were good at something, showing off was hardly a character flaw. His lover didn’t feel the same way, though, and Blay’s need for privacy was something that was always respected.

And hey, the truth was, Qhuinn liked the fact that his male only shared that side of himself with the one who loved him most in the world.

“Let me see it,” Qhuinn prompted as Blay stood up from the chair. “I want to see it . . .”

Blay’s hands trembled as they went to the belt, to the button, to the zipper at the front of those slacks. Fumble, fumble . . . then the two halves were yanked wide.

The enormous erection that burst out was exactly what Qhuinn was looking for.

“Commando,” he moaned with approval. “It’s meant to be.”

As his mate’s dagger hand encircled the thick shaft, Qhuinn did some groaning of his own. Except then Blay took a sharp step back.

Cue the sound of a needle scratching over an LP.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Blay asked. “I mean, what if something bursts open and—”

“The only thing bursting is going to be you, lover mine—”

“Qhuinn. I’m serious.”

“So am I.” When Blay stayed where he was—way out of hands-on range, much less tongue-piercing reach—Qhuinn tried to level his stare and pretend he wouldn’t say absolutely anything to get what he wanted. “They weren’t even going to make me take a wheelchair back. I’m allowed to walk on my own. And I already feel soooo much better.”

“You can’t roll onto your side.”

“That’s my hips, not my head. And besides, your pelvis is going to do the work, not mine.”

It was probably unfair to flick his piercing around, but what was that saying? All’s fair in love and blow jobs?

Okay, fine. That wasn’t the saying.

“Please,” he said. “And I promise I’ll tell you if anything hurts.”

There was a pause. And then Blay stroked his cock.

“Good,” Qhuinn said with a smile.

“I haven’t said yes.”

“Yeah, you have. You’re pumping yourself off.”

Blay looked down as if he’d had no clue what his palm was doing. “Traitor,” he muttered.

“Are you talking to your hand right now?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Just give me my medicine, Blay. You’re not going to hurt me.”

Worried blue eyes stared over. “I couldn’t bear that.”

“I know. It’s one of the many reasons I trust you.”

With the decision finally made, there wasn’t any more talking, the blunt head of that arousal coming at Qhuinn’s mouth, just as he’d begged for. And yes, he opened wide and took it all, sucking the length in, savoring the heat, the taste, the guttural sound that his mate made. Lifting his eyes, he had the pleasure of watching Blay’s head fall back and his arm shoot out to steady a rocky balance on the solid wall behind him.

A smacking noise rose up between his face and Blay’s hips, quiet, repetitive, achingly erotic. The rhythm was slow, Blay deliberately taking his time. Which was fine—until it became frustrating, at which point it was even better. Snaking a hand out, Qhuinn grabbed onto the back of his lover’s thigh and opened his throat, taking the full tip to base, everything stretching, his head moving back on the pillow.

Blay gasped and started to pump properly, noises rumbling in his chest, his breath starting to come fast and hard. And yet he was holding back.