Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(49)

“Because,” Ashby said as he desperately struggled to remember what words were. “You said you were straight and if that were true I’m definitely not the, uh-” Trent was nibbling on his earlobe “-man to change your mind.”

“Oh,” Trent said into his ear, licking the shell and making Ashby’s whole body tremble. “I’m going to have such fun proving to you just how wrong you really are.”

Ashby whimpered. Fine. If Trent really wanted to do this, Ashby needed to stop fighting it immediately. Otherwise, heaven forbid, Trent might change his mind.

His cock was really starting to strain inside his trousers now. When Ashby was brave enough to look, he realized he wasn’t the only one in a bit of a bother. The bulge between Trent’s legs was getting bigger, and it wasn’t a small length thickening in there from what Ashby could tell.

He was too afraid to tackle that just yet. Instead, he refocused on Trent’s shirt, working his fingers to undo the buttons just like Trent had done for him. Inch by inch, he exposed endless light brown skin covered with the tattoos Ashby had seen in the sauna. Except this time, he was allowed to touch them all he wanted.

“What do they all mean?” he asked.

Trent looked down at himself. “I can tell you sometime,” he said. “But not now.”

“No?” Ashby squeaked. “But, um, I have lots of questions.”

Trent took a step closer. There was hardly any space between them now. Their cocks were so close to brushing together. “I have a lot of questions too,” Trent rumbled. He nuzzled against Ashby’s neck and carded his fingers through his hair. “The first is: what do you like?”

Ashby whimpered again. “Uhh,” he stammered. Nobody ever asked him what he wanted. They generally just went ahead and fucked him however they wanted, and Ashby was happy to go along with it.

“I want to make you feel so good,” Trent said, his voice raspy. Ashby worried he might genuinely come in his briefs before Trent even got a chance to touch his cock. “I could guess, but I’d rather hear you talk dirty.”

“F-fuck,” Ashby moaned.

Trent’s hands were still roaming the naked upper half of his body, his lips ghosting across Ashby’s face and neck, his breath making the hairs on Ashby’s skin stand to attention. His cock throbbed, begging Ashby to allow Trent near it soon, now.

“Ashby?” Trent asked.

Ashby gulped. “I w-want,” he uttered. “For you to, um, to…”

Trent closed the distance between them, hugging Ashby close while looking in his eyes. Ashby gasped at the sudden contact of skin on burning skin. Trent clung to his hair with one hand and splayed the fingers of the other across his lower back. There was no masking their lust when their cocks were rock hard and rubbing against each other.

Trent grunted, several emotions flitting across his face. He’d never felt that sensation before, Ashby surmised. Cock rutting against cock. Ashby felt flushed with pride.

“Fuck, I want you,” Trent said. There was wonder in his voice. Like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “How can I make you scream my name?”

“Oh, Christ,” Ashby sobbed. “I want you to bend me over that desk and fuck me senseless.”

He choked back his own surprise, holding his breath to await Trent’s reaction.

Trent kissed him.

‘Devoured him’ might have been a more accurate description. Their lips crashed together and Trent’s tongue plunged into Ashby’s mouth, seeking out his tongue and demanding it dance with his. He nipped at Ashby’s lips and moaned as their mouths met again and again.

Ashby wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly he was backing up until the backs of his legs met the edge of the mahogany desk he’d been admiring before. Trent reached around and swept the writing paper, pens, room service menus and telephone off, sending it all clattering magnificently to the floor. Ashby gasped for breath between kisses, feeling like he was in danger of passing out at any second.

He never did this. He liked sex in bed, all cuddled up under the blankets. Gordon had rarely had any imagination when it came to fucking, so they’d always done it with Ashby on all fours. So long as they held each other afterwards, Ashby had always told himself it was all right.

But right now he couldn’t think clearly at all. All he wanted was to be ravaged within an inch of his life.

Trent grabbed him by the hips and sat him on the desk. He looked feral as he grinned at Ashby and attacked his belt buckle. “Like this?” he rasped, pressing their foreheads together as he whipped the belt free and flung it across the room. “Is this what you want, gorgeous?”

“Jesus, fuck, yes,” Ashby cried.

He scrambled at Trent’s belt, but his hands were shaking too much. So Trent batted them away, stepping back to shove trousers, boxers and belt down to his ankles in one swift motion. “Fucking hell,” Ashby whispered. His eyes were glued to Trent’s large cock, jutting thick and proud from a nest of dark curls. The tip was cut, like Ashby had heard most Americans were, and was a darker brown than the rest of his skin. It was already glistening with precum.

“I hate to alarm you,” Ashby said. Trent was yanking off his shoes and kicking away the rest of his clothes to leave him gloriously naked. He was grinning so hard he was almost laughing. His delight was infectious and Ashby giggled too. “But I really don’t know if that will fit.”