If It Drives (Market Garden, #7)(33)

The room was comfortably warm, but the air was cool against the skin James exposed with each obedient motion. Tugging Cal’s shirt free from his waistband. Pushing it over his shoulders. Carefully unbuttoning the cuffs before sliding them over Cal’s hands.

All the while, Cal couldn’t take his eyes off James’s mouth. He loved everything that man’s mouth was capable of, from kissing him to sucking him off, and as he stood still while James slowly undressed him, he wondered what else his mouth could do.

As James drew down Cal’s zip, Cal spoke without even thinking: “Do you like having your neck kissed, James?”

James’s hands froze. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and met Cal’s eyes. “Yes. I do.”

“So do I.”

Their eyes locked. Cal’s heart pounded, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if James’s did as well.

James swallowed. “Do you want . . .?”

Cal couldn’t quite remember how to speak, so he nodded.

James shifted his weight. His fingers left Cal’s zip, the sudden break in contact jarring Cal. Then he reached up, faltering briefly before his hand rested on Cal’s shoulder. As he leaned in, he met Cal’s eyes again, the unspoken question deepening the creases in his forehead.

Cal tilted his head slightly to expose the side of his throat. James hesitated, and then kissed Cal’s neck. Cal bit his lip, closing his eyes as warm, soft lips met his skin. James’s five-o’clock shadow was deliciously abrasive, grazing Cal’s skin and making him shiver. As James explored his neck, kissing up and down from his jaw to his collarbone, Cal fought to keep his wits about him. To remember he was supposed to be in charge. In control. He was not supposed to get completely lost in . . . in . . .

Holy f*ck, James’s lips were amazing.

Cal ran an unsteady hand through James’s hair. He swept his tongue across his lips, and finally managed to whisper, “You’re going to do this while you’re f*cking me.”

“Anything.” James’s voice was nothing but a warm breath against his neck. God, how had he managed to have sex without this?

Just before he lost his patience with still being somewhat dressed, James pulled down Cal’s trousers and his boxers, thankfully both in one go, because Cal felt like he’d have snapped at him if he’d drawn it out any longer.

He stepped out of his clothes and felt those lips return to his neck. He grabbed James’s head and pushed his face harder against his own flesh, and they brushed together, erections hot and hard between them. Cal closed his eyes, relishing in those feelings and the blurring of everything else. Nothing outside existed. It was only them and what they could do to each other.

He barely managed to get his wits about him long enough to move towards the bed, then broke the contact briefly to lie down. He motioned for James to follow, and the man seemed almost spooked to be on top of him. But when Cal bid him to continue, James dove right in again, placing sucking kisses that nearly curled Cal’s toes.

“Condom.” He pushed against James’s shoulder and James sat back, looking somewhat unsteady, but he pulled the strip closer, tore one off and opened the package.

“Look at me.”

James met Cal’s gaze. What Cal saw there was arousal, obedience, a single-minded focus and a softness in James that was terribly attractive, even endearing. James rolled the condom down, not breaking eye contact, and then reached just as blindly for the lube. Cal watched him, idly running his hand over his own cock, impatient to feel more, but fascinated by James being so tentative.

“Get ready.” Cal pulled the pillow closer.

James lubed up, still perfectly obedient, and waited, lips tight.

Cal opened his legs, pushed his knees up, then pulled James on top of him. Before he’d considered it, he kissed him, and again he found it difficult to stop.

James steadied himself, then pushed against him.

Cal nearly lost his breath, and he struggled to concentrate on anything else. He didn’t bottom often, but he was in the mood—normally he preferred f*cking to being f*cked, but so many barriers were down between them. This wasn’t at all about not giving James what he wanted. It wasn’t denial; it was almost a gift, a show of trust, and Cal had wanted to know what it felt like, too. Though in his fantasies, James hadn’t been following orders. He’d have to edit those fantasies, because James breaching him now felt incredible. And his face? The expression on James’s face when he eased his way in against the resistance of Cal’s body. Eyes unfocused and half-closed. Lips apart. Eyebrows knitted together. God, he looked amazing.

“Neck . . .” Cal ordered breathlessly.

James leaned farther forwards. Eyes locked on Cal’s, he rolled his hips, and that sensation almost punched Cal’s air out of his lungs. He grabbed James’s head and pushed it against his neck, maybe to hide how much it was affecting him, maybe because he just couldn’t get enough of it, and he arched again when James thrust deeper, and then more, hilting completely inside. Cal was damn near panting.

“Oh my God, Cal,” James murmured against Cal’s neck. He withdrew a little and thrust back in harder, taking Cal’s breath away. “I don’t . . . I don’t think I’ll last. You feel—”

“You will.” Cal’s voice came out as more of a plea than a command. He dug his fingers into James’s scalp, arching slightly and tilting his head back so James had more skin to kiss and explore. More firmly, he said, “You won’t come, James.”