by BA Tortuga
“Uhn….” He reached out, fingers tugging on Max’s nipples.
Max jerked, moaned. Oh, those little nipples were as sensitive without rings as his were with. He really did wonder what they’d be like pierced. Max pushed, and they staggered back into the room, Max groping for the bed and holding him close. So they tripped over their jeans.
They started falling, both stumbling, shouting as they fell, him landing right on top of Max.
The breath whooshed right out of Max; he felt it hit his cheek, heard the oophf. Then Max was laughing, hands on his back, searching, testing his thighs and knees. “You’re not hurt are you, sugar?”
“Nope. You broke my fall.” He leaned down, in perfect position to suck one nipple, maybe nip it—just a little.
For good measure.
That got him a gasp, Max’s fingers going from searching to finding sensitive spots and teasing them. “Oh. Damn.”
“Uh-huh.” He nipped again, rolling the tight nipple between his teeth.
“Oh God. Morgan. Please.” Max was just burning up, twisting under him, skin damp. “So good.”
Morgan moaned, hand reaching down to pump Max’s cock.
“Yeah.” Max spread under him, gave him plenty of room to move. Wet, so thick, Max’s cock fit right into his hand like it was meant to be there. The nipple under his lips was hard, deep red, begging for it.
He whimpered, sucking hard enough to bruise, to make Max feel it tomorrow. His own cock was aching.
Shifting, hips rolling, Max pulled him up for a kiss, lips mashing his back against his teeth, hard and urgent.
He straddled Max, hips rocking, crying out as the ring behind his balls dragged along Max’s shaft.
Max hollered too, cock pressing up, hands digging right into his skin. His lower lip got a hard bite, and he could feel it swelling right up.
He bucked, hands on Max’s shoulders, holding tight, the room spinning. “Yes. Yes. Oh fuck.”
“Can’t wait, sugar.” God. Max had already come once, out in the alley, but Morgan could feel it coming, could feel it in the way Max’s muscles went rock hard, in the way that prick jerked under his ass. Someone was so hungry. So hungry.
His thumb rubbed hard over that red, hot nipple, demanding. “Come on. Come on, need to see it.”
“Oh! Oh, Morgan!” That face went hard and set, a deep grimace of pleasure showing for him. Max’s cock jerked against his ass, come spraying against him.
Morgan panted, watching through the whole thing. “Beautiful. So beautiful.”
“Sugar. Damn.” Max reached, sliding a hand down his chest to clumsily fist his cock.
“Uh-huh. Damn.” He nodded, face hidden in Max’s throat as he humped Max’s hand.
“Hot. So hard.” Squeezing, Max encouraged him, Max’s other hand dropping to squeeze his balls lightly.
“For. For you. Cowboy. Oh.” He spread, jerked, come pouring from him.
The next kiss took what was left of his breath, Max moaning into his mouth. Just loving on him.
He nuzzled in, breathing hard, just melted bone-deep. “Damn.”
“Yeah. Oh yeah. That was one hell of a dessert.”
“Mmm… yes. Better than cheesecake.”
Maybe even chocolate.
“Nothing like your skin.” Max laughed. “Though, we might try the bed next time.”
“Okay. I’ll put it on our list.” He winked, nose sliding along Max’s skin.
“Oh, good. Breakfast in bed. With sex.”
“Sex in bed with breakfast.”
Max smacked his butt and nodded, rolling them up to sit, then standing. “I do like a man with priorities.”
“Mmm-hmm. You. Me. Naked. Bed. Food. Perhaps even lube.”
“Maybe.” Max guided him toward the bed. “Definitely fucking.”
“Mmm-hmm. Hard and deep.” Oh, he did love this man.
“And more finger food.” They flopped together, nuzzling right up close, Max smiling, looking so happy.
“And Irish coffee.” He settled, blinking slowly.
“Yeah.” They sank into the covers, Max’s eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. “Love….”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded. So much.
“We’ll have more dessert in a bit, yeah?”
“Yeah. Nap.” The wine and sex and warmth were making him blinky.
“Mmm-hmm.” Max’s breathing evened out, deep and slow against his chest and rib cage, telling him Max was right there with him, already dropping off.
He nodded, smiled, fingers moving slowly. No one did naps like Max.
GOD, MAX loved playing with Morgan. He was grateful, more and more recently, that he had the money and the time to do it. He’d worked hard over the years, and it was like he’d met Morgan just at the right time. Like a reward.
They’d spent the day wandering around Seville, seeing the cathedral, buying trinkets, watching street performers. He’d bought something kinda special for Morgan at one of the jewelers while Morgan was chattering with some old woman who was set up telling fortunes, stroking Morgan’s palm. He wasn’t sure Morgan even understood it, but he had smiled and laughed and finally talked her out of one of her rings for a few euros.
Now they were having dinner at a little bistro, and Morgan was drinking wine and bouncing and recounting their day, and Max was waiting for his other surprise. One of his favorite things about Spain. Just about the time they got their almond-flour cake and coffee, it was announced too. They were gonna get to watch a flamenco show.
“Oooh!” Morgan’s eyes were bottle-green today, the white linen outfit casual and classy all at once. “Too terribly cool!”
“You sure? We don’t have to, but it’s something you should see once, at least.” He was grinning, pleased as punch.
“Absolutely.” Morgan was all smiles, hand on his thigh, pale skin gone a sweet, healthy gold.
“Good.” He reached down, played with Morgan’s fingers as the music started, thrumming through his very veins. He loved flamenco, loved the energy of it, the sensuality. And God knew he loved the idea of watching Morgan watch it. He’d bet his hedonist would love it.
Morgan watched every second of the dance, eating up the moving feet, the swinging skirts, breathing with the music, fingers squeezing him. “Oh. Oh, cowboy. Look.”
There was one pair, a striking, hawk-faced woman and her handsome partner, that just made him catch his breath, made him shift in his seat, closer to Morgan. “Yeah. Amazing, huh, sugar?”
“Uh-huh….” Morgan was flushed, teeth sunk into that sweet bottom lip. “Oh wow.”
“Yeah.” The small cabaret smelled of smoke and sweat, the heat and the wine he’d had at dinner making him feel almost feverish. Morgan was just as fiery beside him, like a little furnace, and the suggestive movements of the dance were making him damned hard.
The passion was palpable in the air, the emotion in the dance fiery, and Morgan’s tongue shot out, wetting those pretty lips, tongue stud catching the light.
Max wanted. Like suddenly. Deeply. Fuck, his cock was just throbbing. His hand tightened so hard over Morgan’s that he was afraid he’d hurt the man.
“Cowboy.” Morgan was vibrating beside him, and he wanted to see those dark eyes, wanted to feel that mouth on him.
He didn’t know if he could talk without his voice cracking, so he just watched as the dance came to a stunning, breathtaking conclusion, the music ending, the crowd erupting into applause.
Morgan clapped too, but his lover was watching him.
Max leaned close, whispered, “I want to take you back to the hotel and ruin you for life, sugar.”
“Promise?” Morgan’s throat worked; he could see the vein throbbing in the thin skin.
“Yeah. That… I… I have a present for you.” Well, yeah. He just needed to blurt shit out like that, like he was some sort of spaz.
“Yeah? What?” Morgan’s hips shifted, hand dropping to adjust his erection.
“Something special.�
�� He hoped to God Morgan liked the thin gold chain with the clasps on both ends. He figured he sure as hell would. “You’ll see when we get there.”
“Oh.” He got a slow, burning grin, Morgan’s thigh pressing against his. “Can we go now?”
“Uh-huh. The show’s over for an hour, so we might as well.” Might as well. Max chuckled, the sound deep and rough to his own ears. If they didn’t go soon he’d be on the floor sucking Morgan like a lollypop. “Come on, sugar.”
Morgan shivered, stood, hand held out. “Yes.”
Max took that hand and stood, adjusting himself a little too so he could walk. He walked close to Morgan, hips bumping.
“You keep doing that and we’ll end up in an alley again.” Oh, he loved that laughter.
“Well, it wouldn’t be even the second or third time we had a little too public encounter.” His cheeks heated just thinking about Machu Picchu and the lounge chair on the boat and… man, that zipper thing hurt right now. “But I want you naked. You’re so pretty.”
Morgan pinked, fingers squeezing his hand. “Naked is good. I’m a big fan.”
“I know. And it’s a damned good look for you.” He winked, stroking Morgan’s palm suggestively, feeling daring as anything.
“Flattery will get you anything you ask for.”
“Good to know.” Luckily, the cabaret wasn’t far from their hotel, and Max hurried Morgan right up to their room, ignoring a few knowing grins. He just wanted so bad he didn’t care a bit what folks thought.
Morgan was bouncing, eager and hot at his side.
The key didn’t want to work, and he was cursing old-fashioned keys and wishing for key cards when he finally got it, yanking Morgan inside for a deep, hard kiss.
Morgan started rubbing against him right off, hands holding him tight.
“Mmm.” Max lifted until he and Morgan were damned well aligned, rocking right into Morgan’s body.
Morgan wrapped around him, low cries pushing into his lips.
They moved together hard and fast, flashpoint coming up pretty damned quick, they were so hot.
Morgan sucked his tongue, pulling hard, eyes rolling.
Max just lost it, hollering into Morgan’s kiss, hips snapping. Fuck if he hadn’t come in his pants more since he met Morgan than he had in his whole life.
Of course, it was a matter of pride that Morgan came too, bucking right on into him.
Damn. “I think you like flamenco, sugar.”
“I do. I like you more, but that was beautiful.”
“My thoughts exactly. Let’s get naked and cleaned up and then you can have your present.” He grinned, pecking a kiss on Morgan’s nose.
“Naked is good. You first.” Morgan tugged his shirt open, kissed his chest.
Chuckling, Max let Morgan strip him down, grimacing at his wet pants. Then he went for Morgan’s clothes, getting that sweet body all bare, stroking the soft skin.
Morgan looked better every day, the exercise and sunshine and laughter making him shine.
Max petted, hands moving over Morgan’s chest, fingers finding those sweet nipples that fascinated him so damned much and pinching, pulling.
“Oh.” Green eyes went wide, Morgan’s cock jerking, starting to fill.
“Mmmm, yeah. I think we should go to bed, sugar.” Max grabbed his pants, got the little package out of them, and led Morgan to the bed. They stretched out and he kissed Morgan deep, teasing that cock with his thigh, pressing those nipples again, getting them good and hard.
Morgan rocked beneath him, moaning for him, hands roaming over his body.
So fucking good. Max had never felt like this in his whole life. Never, until Morgan. “Gonna make me forget your present, sugar. Here, open it.”
Morgan’s fingers were a little clumsy but managed to get the pretty little chain out. “Oh. Oh, how pretty. How fine.”
Max waited, hoping Morgan would figure out what it was for without him having to say. His cheeks flushed just looking at the damned chain, and his hips pushed forward without any conscious thought on his part, his cock growing against Morgan’s hip.
Of course, he shouldn’t have worried, Morgan draping the chain across those sweet pierced nipples. “You’re going to put it on me, right?”
“Yeah.” Uhn. Yeah. His hands shook just a little bit as he took it, opened one clasp, then the other, and attached the chain to Morgan’s nipple rings.
Morgan flat-out purred, stretching up and letting him look his fill.
His cock? Was just gonna explode. Max tugged it, just a little, watching Morgan’s face.
Morgan arched, lips parting on a moan. So fucking responsive. “Yes….”
“Oh, sugar. You make me ache.” The gold glinted, and Max knew it was fine enough he needed to be careful, but he tugged one more time, just a little harder. He needed to see the blood fill those little bits of flesh, needed to hear Morgan gasp.
“Love that. Love that you’re not scared to touch….” Morgan shivered, nipples hard as little stones.
“I love how you look, how they feel. Love this one too.” He spread Morgan out and touched the guiche, playing with it.
“Yeah? Good. Don’t stop, cowboy. Make me fly.”
He wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon, that was for sure. The chain slid on Morgan’s chest as Max pulled at the little ring he held, and he bent to kiss the spot it had just bared.
Morgan made a sweet, soft sound, one that settled in his balls, in his soul.
“Pretty, sugar. So damned pretty.” He just. He had no words for it. None.
The bright green eyes rolled, those long fingers tangling in his hair. “Love how you see me, cowboy. I do.”
“Morgan.” God, yeah. He just… it was like a feast. Or like the little tapas dishes they’d eaten. Something for every part of his palate. Morgan’s nipples tasted like salt and sherry, his belly like musk, the tip of his cock like nothing Max had ever thought he could have.
“My sensual cowboy….” Morgan twisted, pushing into his lips, his touch.
“You get me going, sugar. You know that.” Even his old buddy Poe had never got him this way. Max bent, sucked Morgan in hard, tongue riding along the underside.
Morgan groaned, rolled and shifted until that hungry little mouth surrounded his cock, nipple rings sliding on his belly.
“Yeah, sugar.” Fuck, yes, he could handle that. Mouths on cocks, hands on each other’s legs and asses, they just made a circle of pleasure.
Morgan fed on him, head bobbing, happy, little cries filling the air as they bucked and thrust, loving on each other.
Max groped, hands looking for his little gift, looking for that chain, tugging at it as he sucked just as hard as Morgan. Goddamn, it was good. So hot. So… oh. Damn.
Morgan cried out, heat pouring into his lips, hips rolling.
Max just closed his eyes and sucked, pulling Morgan into him even as he shot so hard he saw stars behind his eyelids. God, what this man did to him. It was… unbelievable.
They settled together, nuzzling and sucking, humming at each other.
Grinning, Max wiggled around, getting Morgan in his arms and kissing him nice and deep, hand tugging at the chain. “So you like my present, sugar?”
“Uh… uh-huh.” Morgan grinned, moving toward him. “It’s something else, cowboy.”
“Good. I like it on you.” Lord, Lord, it was pretty. Max blinked. “I want to see your eyes, though.”
Those thin cheeks went pink, but the smile was pleased, and it didn’t take a minute before the green was gone. Those dark eyes stared at him, bright, happy, so fucking good.
Max laughed right out loud and kissed Morgan quick and hard. “That’s better. Much better. Now you look like mine.”
God, he could see everything in those dark eyes. They didn’t hide a thing—pride, pleasure, desire. Love.
He probably looked just as sappy. It was a damned fine thing. Max kissed Morgan again, hard, settling in for the night.
“So, you
like flamenco and nipple chains,” he said. “How do you feel about cathedrals and modern art?”
“I’m a fan, cowboy. Let’s go play.” Morgan hummed, wrapped around him. “Tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sugar. Yeah. Tomorrow.” Tonight? They’d just take some time for them. And play a whole different way.
SUGARED NUTS. An odd little doll in a flamenco dress. Two hippo teeth from Africa.
God, Morgan did love el mercado.
He followed Max idly, buying a bottle of brandy here, a jingly bracelet there, filling his little bag.
“Come on, sugar.” Max turned, walking backward, teasing him with a string of shells of some sort. “You’re gonna miss out.”
“I’d hate that….” He chuckled, following the shiny shells. “Those would look great wrapped around your cock, cowboy.”
“Oh.” Max’s cheeks went bright pink, so damned cute on such a big, manly guy. “Okay.” Max pulled out a few euros to pay for the shells.
“Mmm-hmm.” Morgan nodded, eyes caught by a shiny black robe. Oh, that would look fabulous.
“Hey, do you think….” Max’s voice seemed farther away, far enough to make him look up.
“Huh?” He looked around, someone slamming hard against his back and making him stumble. “Hey! Careful!”
Hands wrapped around his shoulders, digging in. “Yes, Mr. Bowen. We will.”
Oh. Oh fuck him. “Max!”
“Morgan? What is it, sugar?” Max came, slowly wending his way through the crowd. He could see Max’s hat. Then he could hear Max start to shout. “Hey! You let him go.”
“Don’t do this, guys. Come on. Whatever my father’s paying you, I’ll double it.” He started struggling, pulling harder as he saw the syringe. “Max! Max, please.”
“Morgan!”
God, how many guys had his father sent? It was like a swarm, and he could hear Max hollering for him, the dull sounds of flesh striking flesh telling him Max was trying, was fighting for him. His Max. It didn’t make a bit of difference either. They kept moving. He leaned over, bit the arm of one of the guys good and hard. That earned him a sharp blow to the cheek, his head slamming back. Fuck.
