“See, that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
He wasn’t sure if Gibson understood what he wanted. On the way down the trail, Zach had fallen behind a few feet and watched Gibson’s body flow as he walked. They’d been talking about stupid things, like the best toy they’d ever found in a box of cereal, when Zach was struck with a teeth-aching need to have Gibson make love to him. There was something about the day, maybe it was the promise of a full moon that night if the clouds would cooperate, but his want for his slightly sarcastic, usually rumpled, sexy romance writer left him breathless and needing more than a simple kiss.
“We’re not talking about food anymore, are we?” Gibson’s half-full glass joined Zach’s on the table. “You’re talking about me possibly taking off my clothes and doing those unspeakable things I’ve always wanted to do to you, right?”
“Well, or I could take them off of you. I just think maybe we should stop playing house.” He let out a short yelp when Gibson pushed him down onto the couch. “Or should that be stop playing cabin, and find out what each other likes.”
Zach’s elbow got caught on his sweatshirt, and Gibson nearly kneed him trying to get his pants down. One of their plates landed on the floor, either hit by Gibson’s foot or possibly Zach’s underwear when it flew off of Gibson’s finger as he twirled it around. There was a brief scramble toward the fireplace, as it appeared one of the couch’s throw pillows was headed straight for the flames when thrown off to make room, but a quick lunge and slap-away worthy of an all-star soccer player prevented its unfortunate demise. Breathless with laughter and left with nothing else to discard, their mirth eased away, leaving room for their desire to grow.
“I’ve never been very good at this,” Zach confessed. “I mean, I get the mechanics of it but have never really—”
“You made dinner,” Gibson said, crawling over Zach’s body to straddle his hips. “How about if you let me take care of this? Don’t worry. I am going to make you feel so good.”
There had been promises about what Gibson would do to him with his fingers, and they were not overblown boasts. Gibson had been prepared for whenever they got around to an evening of wine and love, so maybe the suggestion of the bottle with the eggs hadn’t been so much chance as it was seduction. The lube left a sweet perfume in the air, the slightest hint of strawberries and cream, but the heat Zach felt along the bottom of his cock surprised him more than anything.
Well, except for the sensual ripple of pleasure left by Gibson’s tongue when it swept over the soft head of Zach’s dick.
“That’s what I want to do to you,” he gasped. “You don’t have any… idea of how much I want to… find out how you taste.”
“Maybe….” Gibson took another lick, then raked his teeth over the sensitive slit in Zach’s skin. “We can do that the next time.”
“So long as the next time—oh God,” Zach ground out, caught in the maelstrom of pleasure wrapping around him, “is as soon as I catch my breath.”
The flames burning in the cabin’s fireplace seemed to have found Zach’s skin, or at least their heat did. The tingle began in his belly, then stretched out over every inch of him, a growing galaxy of pleasure points as bright as stars. His hands couldn’t seem to find satisfaction in caressing only a few inches of Gibson’s body at a single time. He craved to be closer, to somehow plunge himself through Gibson’s flesh and live for even a brief sliver of time as one.
When Gibson swallowed him down into his throat, Zach lost his mind, enveloped by the unexpected velvety warmth. That simmering sensation continued farther, down his taint, then into the dips of his ass, laving at the entrance he needed Gibson to fill. There were desires his body seemed to instinctively know, hungers he couldn’t identify until Gibson’s fingers and then his mouth ghosted over his skin, teasing at the spots until Zach’s yearning grew too much to take.
He dug his fingers through Gibson’s dark hair, fighting not to yank too hard when he pulled his lover up. Gibson’s stormy pupils held bits of sunset gold around the edges, bleeding in from the ebony ring surrounding the gray, and Zach’s breath caught in his throat, trapped by the intensity in Gibson’s eyes.
“The wolf—your wolf….” There was always a wildness to Gibson’s spirit, a thread of something primitive and exciting roiling beneath who he was. Still, it was a surprise to see that presence surface, and Zach stared into the unplumbed depths of the man he’d fallen in love with. “Your eyes. I can see him in you.”
“There is no him. Only me.” Gibson captured Zach’s mouth with his. There was something darker than the wine on his tongue, something headier and more intoxicating than anything Zach had ever tasted. When Gibson finally let up, he murmured, “I am as much wolf as I’m human, but with you, that part of me is drawn out. So close to the surface, because all of my passions, all of my instincts, are carried by that blood. This isn’t the first time you’ve drawn together the separate parts of my soul, of my heart. I’m just surprised that this is the first time you’ve seen how much you complete me.”
The uncertainty in Zach’s belly wasn’t fear. No, it was… anticipation mingled with wonder. His lover’s touch at his entrance begged Zach to lift his legs, part his knees, and let Gibson fulfill the promise he made only a few minutes before.
“That’s it, babe,” Gibson purred at him, delving into his depths with a gentle touch. “Let me find the wolf you have hidden inside of you.”
Zach wanted to say something funny, maybe a quick rejoinder of how the only wolf ever to be found inside of him would be Gibson, but when his lover pressed into him, Zach could no longer stitch two thoughts together, much less tease. If there was magic in the world, even just a little bit, it lay in Gibson’s touch. The man found every thread of rapture woven into Zach, and when he slid his oiled fingers from Zach’s body, he almost wept from the loss.
“Hold on to me.” Gibson’s baritone played with Zach’s senses, rolling over him in redolent waves. “I want to feel your fingers digging into me, your mouth on me. I want you to leave as much of a mark on me as I intend to leave on you.”
The push into his flesh was slow, a tightness on the brink of pain with flashes of heat, followed by a silvery brightness almost too sharp to bear but too delicious to deny. Gibson seemed to go on forever, or at least it was an eternity that Zach was more than willing to spend the rest of his life in. His breath hitched at a point, and Gibson stopped, giving Zach time to breathe through the moment.