by Jet Mykles
Brent swallowed, trying once more to regain some sanity. “Hell, we shouldn’t do this.”
“Oh, yes. We should.”
Brent shook his head. “The band.”
Hell stepped into his body, pressing Brent against the back wall. “You already slept with one other member of the band.” He pressed his other palm over Brent’s heart, the earpiece of the sunglasses still between his lips. Dark amethyst eyes met his. “What’s one more?”
Brent couldn’t take his eyes off that part of his sunglasses, disappearing in and out of Hell’s lips. That pink tongue came out to caress the plastic, and Brent had to wet his own lips at the sight.
Hell leaned in, tilting up toward his mouth. “I want you so much.” Lips hovered beneath Brent’s, the plastic of the glasses an odd hardness at the corner of their mouths “Please don’t say I can’t have you.”
The elevator doors hissed open.
Hell stepped back.
Brent stumbled forward, leaning into the kiss that Hell now backed away from.
Hell grabbed the front of Brent’s shirt and led the way out of the elevator. “Come.”
Mistake! Brent’s brain screamed. Yet here he was, following the cherub like a stunned puppy.
Hell perched Brent’s glasses up on top of his own head to free his hand to dig in the waistband of his pants. Brent wasn’t sure where he’d tucked it, but Hell produced his key card just as they reached the door to his suite.
Brent cast a glance toward his own door, not twenty feet away. He should go there. He should yank away, grab his glasses, and lock himself safely away until these aching tremors passed.
Too late. Hell’s door clicked open, and the hand in his shirt yanked. Brent stumbled forward into Hell’s room.
Chapter Seven
Hell didn’t release Brent’s shirt, forcing the taller man to spin around to face him as they cleared the doorway. The door shut as Hell reached over to the touchpad that activated soft lighting around the suite.
Brent’s eyes widened when Hell’s gaze met his, and he couldn’t look away as Hell again walked him backward. The cherub kept hold of his shirt, leading him around furniture.
“Hell, this isn’t ...”
“Isn’t what?”
He shook his head, stumbled a bit, but Hell’s hold kept him balanced. “We shouldn’t ...”
“Mmm, Brent, you should try and finish your sentences.”
Words failed him. There were reasons he shouldn’t do this. Sound reasons. But they melted away in the heat of Hell’s stare. Brent could see the lust in that stare and quailed at the realization that it was all focused on him. His heart thrummed so loudly he was sure Hell could hear it.
They reached the entrance to the bedroom. Hell pushed, releasing his shirt.
Brent stumbled backward and fell onto the rough cream silk of the duvet on the neatly turned-down bed.
Hell chuckled, climbing on top of him, ended up straddling his waist. “Don’t be afraid, Süsser,” he crooned, fingers trailing down Brent’s chest to his buttons. “I won’t hurt you.” Brent had never found German to be a particularly sexy-sounding language, but his opinion had taken an abrupt one-eighty.
“It’s not that ...”
Hell made short work of the buttons and pushed open Brent’s shirt, exposing his chest and belly. Hell’s happy little purr closed Brent’s eyes in pleasure. “Don’t you like me?” Lips, now devoid of gloss, brushed Brent’s collarbone.
Brent swallowed. “Well, yeah.”
Warm chuckle. Palms and fingers spread out over his chest, pressing the aching points of his nipples. “Don’t worry, Süsser. I understand this is just sex. No harm, no foul.” The cliché sounded weird with the accent, but Brent couldn’t dwell on that. Hell paused, poised over him. The shades he’d nabbed from Brent perched on top of his head, holding back most of the errant bangs that usually dropped forward over his eyes. Hell smiled. “I will not hold it against you in the morning.” He bent his head and uncovered one nipple so he could circle it with his tongue. “I only wish to taste you tonight.”
One night can’t hurt. Brent tried to decide if he sounded convincing in his head. It was hard to wonder anything, though, when Hell’s talented teeth and tongue were tormenting his nipple. The keyboardist’s hand plucked the other nipple, and his groin pressed down on Brent’s. The lace of his cuffs tickled Brent’s skin.
Brent brought his hand up to slide his fingers down the soft, silky lavender hair at the back of Hell’s skull. For whatever reason he didn’t care to name, he left the sunglasses, kind of enjoying the look of them there. He slid his hand down the back of Hell’s head, finding the braid that started at the nape of his neck. He lifted it, watching with half-focused eyes as it slithered like a snake through his loose hold to coil on Hell’s back, some of it draping over his side He held on to the flashy band at the end and idly brushed the fluffy tail of the braid against the exposed skin of Hell’s back between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants.
Hell purred, squirming deliciously as he kissed his way across Brent’s chest to the other nipple.
Brent slid his hand down Hell’s back as far as he could reach, curving around at the waist. He trailed his fingers down the laced sides of Hell’s legs, fascinated by the feel of warm, smooth skin underneath tight bindings.
“Hell.”
“Mmm?”
“Clothes.”
“Mmm.”
“Off.”
Hell paused, and Brent felt a smile against his skin. Then the cherub surged up so that the tip of his pert, upturned nose hovered over Brent’s. “Mine or yours?”
Brent purposely lost himself in violet depths. He was committed now. No turning back. He glanced down and brought up a finger to hook in the V opening of Hell’s shirt. “Both.”
“There’s a button at the top,” Hell told him, remaining poised over Brent.
Brent smiled. He found the button, freed it, then took hold of the zipper and pulled it down. A slight tug at the end opened the two sides of the filmy white material, exposing the creamy, toned expanse of Hell’s chest.
Hell pushed up to his knees. He kept his eyes on Brent’s face as he rolled his shoulders, letting his sleeves slip down his arms to his elbows. So sexy! Brent thought, reaching up to slide a hand over the completely hairless skin. Hell was far more toned than it seemed he should be, nowhere near bulky but certainly not as waifish as he could appear when fully clothed. Brent paused at one small pink nipple and pinched. Hell’s eyes fluttered closed, an appreciative smirk on those perfect lips. Brent did it again, then drifted his fingers down the middle of Hell’s chest, belly, down over his navel, until his fingers reached the leather of Hell’s pants. He fingered the bulge beneath, wondering what could possibly have Hell’s cock confined beneath the pants. It didn’t seem like he could have on anything underneath, but something was straining that erection.
“How the heck are you going to get out of those?” he mused.
Hell’s eyes opened. He grinned. “Watch.” He practically jumped backward off the bed, landing catlike on his feet.
Amused, Brent pushed up onto his elbows to watch.
Hell let the filmy white of his shirt slide the rest of the way down his arms, turning to face away from Brent. It afforded a very nice view of Hell’s sleek back, the muscles rolling smoothly and the dark purple braid swaying as he tossed the shirt aside. Casually, he placed a hand on the dresser for balance and raised one booted foot behind him. One-handed, he opened the short zipper on the side and pulled off the boot. He did the same with the other, and then the socks came off. He turned profile, gazing at Brent from under lowered lashes. Long fingers went to the lacing at the top of his left hip, and he deftly untied it. Fingers then flipped under a band of stiff fabric beneath the tie and unfastened it. The leather immediately snapped open, tugging at the ties that still bound it. Smiling, Hell loosened the laces to just below his hip, then turned to repeat the performance at the other si
de. He then faced away from Brent again and, hands at the waistband, proceeded to shimmy out of the clinging garment with a lot of flexing and rolling for his appreciative audience. Hell bent over, and Brent could see the thin white straps of a thong across the top of his ass and down through the crack. He did a slow bump and grind as he turned to face Brent once more. The thong had to be leather, the pouch sturdy enough to contain the erection that challenged it.
Brent smiled, letting his appreciation show. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Heavily made-up eyes fluttered. “Thank you.”
“You gonna take the thong off?”
Hell hooked two thumbs in the straps, just next to the pouch. Bright hope sparkled in his huge eyes. “Do you want me to?”
Brent couldn’t help but smile. How Hell managed to mix cute and sexy he didn’t know. “Yeah.”
“Then yes.” He carefully pulled the thin bands of the thong out to clear his dick, then bent to slide them down his long, bare legs.
Brent’s mouth went dry at his first eyeful of Hell’s gorgeous, uncut cock. It was -- oh, God! -- flushed almost purple and bigger than Brent had expected for Hell’s size.
Hell straightened and shot a hip out, posing for him. Brent was now achingly aware that the only thing Hell wore besides jewelry was the shades still perched on his head. Long fingers wrapped around the shaft of his cock and pulled, pinching his foreskin over the tip and rolling it.
“Come here,” Brent heard his own voice rasp.
Hell’s grin was worthy of his name, but he held up one slim finger and headed for a luggage rack beside the nightstand.
“Hey, where are you going?” Brent protested.
“Patience, Süsser.” He took Brent’s sunglasses off and set them on the nightstand before he bent to rummage through his suitcase.
Brent was kind of sorry to see the glasses leave his head, but wasn’t going to say anything for fear of sounding silly. “What’s it mean, ‘Süsser’?” he asked as he scooted higher onto the bed.
“It’s an endearment.” Hell rummaged in the bottom of the case, grinning. “It is like calling someone ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey.’”
“Oh.” He set his head back in the soft pillows, waiting. Unable to resist, he reached down to cup himself through his slacks, teasing himself while he waited for Hell’s warm body to return.
It really wasn’t that long before Hell produced a bottle of lube and two condoms from the bag. Brent brightened at seeing two. The night was looking up..
“As far as I know, I am clean,” Hell told him, tossing the condoms and bottle onto the bed beside Brent. “I am always careful, and I have been tested.”
Brent nodded, watching Hell as he crawled up over the foot of the bed. “Me, too.”
Hell smiled, bracing his slim, pale body over Brent’s, pressing a brief kiss on his mouth. “Good.”
They kissed again, languid and slow, learning the taste of each other. Brent slid his hands up and down the smooth skin of Hell’s sides, enjoying the near complete lack of hair. He finally gave in to temptation and brought his hand around to grip Hell’s cock. The keyboardist groaned around his tongue. Brent pulled it hard and played the tip with his thumb, loving the way the foreskin felt. He was circumcised himself, so an uncut cock always fascinated him.
“Hey.” He slapped one side of Hell’s butt lightly. “Bring that up here.” He smiled at those violet eyes. “I want to taste.”
Hell grinned, bit Brent’s lip, then crawled higher on the bed as Brent eased further down on his back. With Hell’s knees tucked up under his armpits, Brent adjusted his hold on the silken heat of the imp’s cock and urged the smooth head to his lips.
The headboard clattered against the wall as Hell grabbed hold of it, moaning.
Brent spared him a brief glance, but returned his full attention to the thing of beauty in his mouth. Warm, fragrant, and tasty. And shaved!
He slid his hand to the base, and his fist brushed the bare, slightly stubbly skin of Hell’s groin. Brent laved the head of Hell’s cock with his tongue, tickling the spot just underneath the head. Keeping his mouth wet, he slid his lips and tongue down the shaft, urging Hell’s hips closer to his mouth by squeezing a firm butt cheek with his other hand.
“Ah,” Hell moaned, his hips rolling easily under Brent’s guidance.
Brent loved this. It was his second favorite part about sex with a guy He’d learned and perfected the fine art of sucking cock and put his skills to use, fully intending to drive the cherub out of his freaking purple mind. He lapped at his palm, then closed it and his fingers over the head of Hell’s cock, holding it up so he could nuzzle the hairless balls beneath. He ran his wet tongue over the wrinkled skin, sucking one then the other sac into his mouth.
He nearly lost it when he realized that underneath the dark, musky smell of the man was the unmistakable trace of lavender. He even smelled like lavender here?
Brent moaned and urged Hell up higher with another squeeze to his ass. They shifted so Brent could get his arm under Hell’s leg and Hell could bend his knee, allowing Brent to duck his head and lap at the sensitive skin behind Hell’s balls.
“Brent,” Hell moaned, shaking the headboard again.
Yeah. He lapped and pressed at the sensitive spot, briefly tonguing Hell’s back entrance before roughly dragging his tongue all the way back over perineum, balls, and shaft before he sank the head of Hell’s cock into his mouth all the way to his throat.
A string of words spilled from Hell’s mouth, none of them English. The tone, however, sounded like cursing. So Brent figured by that, and by the way Hell’s hips kept rolling for him, that he was doing all right. A glance up showed the cherub’s eyes screwed shut and that pretty mouth twisted in a promising snarl.
Brent hummed and wetly sucked his way back to the tip. He decided to stop teasing. He himself was hard as a rock and could probably come from just sucking Hell off. He’d save his special, drawn-out blowjob for later. So he set to sucking, up and down, slurping, letting Hell hear it, letting his tongue rasp the sensitive skin. He cupped his free hand around those hairless balls and rolled them, pulled them, experimenting gently to see just how much Hell liked. Hell seemed to like it all. The German cursing continued, and his hips started to snap, groin pressing against the hand Brent had clasped around the base of his cock.
“Oh, Gott, Süsser, going to ...”
Brent growled, loving the low rasp in Hell’s normally lyrical voice. He spat on his hand and jerked Hell’s throbbing cock, ducking his face under to lap again at Hell’s anus. That was it. Hell cried out, hips twitching violently. Everything squeezed, and warm cum spilled over Brent’s hand, oozing onto the pillow beside his head. Brent bitterly lamented that he couldn’t taste it, but no matter what had been said, one didn’t swallow on the first date.
Hell hissed, and Brent released him, letting his wet hand rest on the pillow for the moment as he grinned up at the cherub. Hmm, no, not cherub. He was having trouble making that moniker fit anymore. Imp. Yeah, that was more like it.
Hell lowered himself to lie on Brent’s chest, sinking fingers into Brent’s hair to pull his head up for a long, lazy kiss. He pulled his head up and smiled down at Brent. “That was wonderful.”
“My pleasure.”
Hell brushed his lips over Brent’s again, then backed down. He stopped when his hands got to Brent’s waist. “Are these still on?” he asked playfully, tugging the waistband of Brent’s pants.
“How’d that happen?”
“I don’t know.” Clever fingers made quick work of the belt, button, and zipper. “But that will never do.” Those same fingers wrapped over the waistband of Brent’s pants and underwear and drew them down his thighs He stopped when Brent’s cock was fully exposed, humming happily. “You are beautiful,” he assured Brent, dropping a quick kiss to the shaft before backing off the bed with Brent’s pants. He muttered. He scowled adorably as he had to switch to Brent’s feet to get his Nikes off, but soon enoug
h he had Brent naked from the waist down. The shirt that was open but still on Brent’s shoulders he ignored.
It dawned on Brent: he’d probably have to be the top. Not that he minded so much. He’d topped before. But he actually preferred being the bottom. Sucking cock was his second favorite part of sex with a man. Getting fucked was his first. Oh, well, he mused as Hell knelt on the bed beside him. The idea of sinking into Hell’s sweet little ass wasn’t unappealing. Maybe he’d get lucky and Hell would want to ride him. He seemed to like calling the shots anyway.
Hell sped away to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth. He tossed and Brent caught it, using it to wipe up his hand.
Brent glanced at the pillow beside his head. “I think the pillow’s toast.” He grinned.
Hell matched the grin, kneeling on the foot of the bed. “There are plenty in the closet.”
Brent tossed the cloth to the floor, pitching the pillow after it. He pulled one of the remaining pillows to fill the gap and lay back, folding his hands behind his head.
The little devil was poised over Brent’s twitching, aching cock, looking at it like a kid would look at a plate of cookies. He even licked his lips. “I have neglected you,” Hell murmured, easing down onto his elbows between Brent’s bent knees. “Allow me to make it up to you.” Brent’s cock jumped at the proximity of that adorable mouth.
“You’re doing grand,” Brent groaned as Hell lowered his head and nuzzled the bend between thigh and groin. “But don’t let that stop you.”
“Mmm.” Hell slid his hands up the backs of Brent’s thighs to his knees, then back down and around until both palms spread across Brent’s belly, his arms wrapped around Brent’s thighs. He nipped at the hair that guarded Brent’s balls, not quite touching, but his breath was tangible, a warm caress across sensitive skin.
“God,” Brent moaned, watching his cock jump and drip pre-cum. Thoughts and concerns that didn’t involve sinking his dick into some orifice of Hell’s body flew from his brain.
Violet eyes met his over his cock. He saw Hell’s mouth open wide and groaned loudly when he felt that tongue lapping at his balls.
