by C. B. Lewis
Philip groped for the faucet, turning the water off. “You’re sure?”
Sam’s mouth felt dry, but God, he wanted to have Philip’s mouth on his again. For real this time. Not just a brush of lips. “Yeah. They can wait.” He shifted one hand, running his fingers up the front of Philip’s throat, the stubble coarse against his skin. He felt Philip’s throat bob as he swallowed, felt the rush of his breath.
Philip wasn’t exactly a big guy, but now he seemed so much smaller. “Fun?” he suggested in a hoarse voice as he tilted his head back, rubbing his throat against Sam’s fingers.
“If you want.”
Philip turned on the spot, looking up at him. His smile flashed across his face, bright as lightning. “Well, I would hate to lie to my friends about what I’ve been doing.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed as Philip pressed one hand to his chest. “It’d be wrong. Lying.”
He didn’t know which of them moved first. Either way, he went down and Philip surged up, and they met in the middle, mouths clashing. Philip wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders, pulling himself up onto his toes, and if that wasn’t an invitation, Sam didn’t know what was. He slid his hands over Philip’s hips and under his ass, hitching him right up off the floor.
Philip laughed against his lips, wrapping his legs around Sam’s waist, his fingers biting hard into Sam’s shoulder through his sweater. “Prime,” he panted breathlessly between kisses, then groaned as he rubbed himself against Sam’s belly.
Sam felt light-headed. A lot of guys didn’t like being manhandled, but Philip was rocking in the right way, and his mouth was hot and wet and demanding. Sam staggered a step, pressing Philip up against the wall with enough force to drive the air out of Philip’s lungs. Philip moaned like he was dying, tilting his head back and baring his throat, and Jesus, Sam couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and started biting and sucking his way to the gaping collar of the oversized sweater.
“Fuck,” Philip gasped, sinking his fingers into Sam’s hair when Sam bit hard enough to leave a mark. His legs were tight around Sam’s waist and his fingers were pulling, his hips rocking in sharp jerks. “Jesus fucking Christ!”
There were clothes in the way, Sam thought. Too many clothes. He slid one hand the length of Philip’s back, pushing up the sweater, and shifted his weight. “Off,” he growled against Philip’s throat, drawing the other man away from the wall long enough for Philip to pull the damn thing over his head along with the T-shirt. Philip shivered as the cooler air hit him, and again when Sam splayed his hand across the middle of Philip’s back.
Philip caught his shoulders again, pulling himself up, flush against him, until they were eye to eye. He was red in the face, his eyes gleaming. “Your turn,” he panted, reaching down and grabbing Sam’s sweater. And Christ, the man had thighs like steel, holding himself exactly where he was as he forced Sam’s arms up and pulled his sweater over his head.
Sam wrapped his hands back under Philip’s ass, and he saw the way Philip looked him up and down. His tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip.
“My word,” he breathed. “Well put together indeed….”
Their mouths met again, Philip writhing between the wall and the press of Sam’s body. His fingers were skittering and scratching at Sam’s back, and every breath was getting more ragged. Sam tore his mouth from Philip’s, burying his face in the younger man’s throat, his hips grinding up against Philip’s ass through his pants. Still too many clothes. He dragged Philip’s pants down over his ass, pushing up over his thighs, and heard Philip gasp hot and sharp in his ear as Philip rubbed against Sam’s bare belly.
Teeth were at his throat, breath hot between them. “Fuck me,” Philip panted.
Sam faltered. “Shit. Rubbers.”
Philip groaned impatiently. “Got any?”
“Bathroom.”
Fingers sank into his shoulders. “Now.”
Sam wrapped an arm around Philip’s waist, staggering toward the door. Philip wasn’t making it simple, his mouth latched onto Sam’s throat and one hand running over his chest, raking through the hair and tweaking at his nipples.
If the den was cool, the bathroom was worse, and Philip yelped in indignation as he was set on the edge of the sink. “Cold!”
“Just a second….” Sam reached around him into the bathroom cabinet, hands clumsy with urgency. He pulled out a handful of condoms, the lube slipping and clattering into the sink under Philip. Philip grabbed at one of the condoms and pushed Sam back a step, reaching down for his belt.
Sam’s pants were around his ankles in seconds, and he had to brace his hands on the wall on either side of Philip, his head spinning, as Philip made light work of the packet and squeezed lube into his palm. His eyes were gleaming as he tossed the tube and packet aside, then grabbed Sam by the shoulders again.
“Where were we?”
Sam dragged Philip’s pants off, dropping them to the floor, then stepped between his legs again. He didn’t say a word, just holding Philip’s gaze, and lifted Philip up from the sink. Lean legs coiled around his waist again. Philip was breathing as hard as he was. They didn’t kiss. They didn’t move closer. Sam turned and pushed him up against the back of the bathroom door, lifting him just enough, enough to rock up against him, enough to hold him there, to take a second, take a breath, feel his heart pounding faster than it had in months.
As Sam pushed against him, Philip keened sharply, his fingers sinking into the meat of Sam’s shoulders, his legs tightening, and Sam had to force himself to remember how to breathe. Jesus, it had been too long between fucks.
When they started moving, every thrust made Philip gasp, driving him up against the door. He sank a hand into Sam’s hair, pulling Sam’s mouth back against his, and they were holding each other hard, tight enough to leave marks, grinding against each other, panting and shaking. Sam shifted his grip, sliding his arms under Philip’s thighs, dragging him up higher, pushing deeper, making him cry out and pull at Sam’s hair and pound at his shoulders.
“Okay?” Sam panted against his lips.
Philip only nodded, knocking his head back against the door, his movements reduced to tight jerks of his hips, his jaw slack. His eyes were closed, cheeks flushed, and Jesus, if that wasn’t the hottest thing Sam had seen in months. He moved harder, faster, and Philip was making small, urgent noises low in his throat. He tensed suddenly, arching and moaning.
Sam caught a breath, and it only took him a few more strokes to catch up. Philip was leaning back against the door, limp, smiling, and breathless.
Somehow, Sam managed to get them both from upright to the floor. His legs were aching. Arms too, but in a good way. Philip untangled his legs, and they sprawled out as much as they could on the tiles, both gleaming with sweat and flushed.
Sam blew out a breath, closing his eyes. “Mm.”
“Mm.” Philip agreed, dragging himself over Sam. He lowered his head, and Sam shivered pleasantly as Philip lapped at his throat, catching the salt of sweat. He didn’t stop there. He took his time moving lower, over his collarbone, down Sam’s chest, until he was licking up all traces of himself from Sam’s belly.
Sam swallowed hard. Philip’s tongue was teasing along his navel, teeth catching the softer part of his belly, nipping at his hips, even down onto the top of his thighs. His pants were pushed off his ankles in a heap.
“Don’t I get a break?” he asked hoarsely, as the used condom was tossed in the trash.
Philip nuzzled the inside of his thigh. “Just committing you to memory.” His tongue swiped close to the crease of hip and thigh, and Sam jolted as heat surged through him. “Every inch.”
Sam couldn’t help asking, “You’re sniffing my balls, aren’t you? Just couldn’t help yourself.”
Philip’s face was so close to Sam’s skin that he felt the snort of laughter. “What can I say?” he said, lifting his head with a dirty leer. “Animal instincts.”
Sam reached up and buried his fingers in Phil
ip’s hair, drawing him up to kiss him again. He tasted of salt and sex, and that definitely wasn’t a bad thing. “Full of shit,” he declared.
Philip’s eyes danced. “Only a little.” He braced a hand on Sam’s chest and pushed himself up onto his knees. “D’you mind if we relocate? As tasty as you are, it’s a bit nippy in here and I’d hate to give you a disappointing impression of my downstairs.”
Sam burst out laughing. “Your ‘downstairs’?” He sat up as Philip scrambled to his feet and reached for the washcloth in the sink. It put Sam right on eye-level with that very area. He glanced up at Philip, one side of his mouth twitching, as Philip wiped himself down. “I’ve seen worse.”
Philip poked him with a foot. “Oh, shut up,” he said happily. He spun around and headed out the room, giving Sam a great view of his back. There were visible handprints on his ass and thighs, and the skin of his back was red from pressure.
Sam couldn’t help smiling. It was always good to have some pretty awesome sex with someone who could have a laugh about it afterward. He got up and gave himself a quick wipe down with a washcloth, pulled his boxers back on, then headed back through to the den.
Philip was already working on stoking the fire, a blanket around his shoulders. He shot a grin over his shoulder. “My thighs are going to be killing me for days. I hope you’re happy.”
Sam leaned against the doorframe. “Can’t say you didn’t ask for it.”
Philip patted the floor beside him. “Can’t grope you like a dirty great pervert if you’re standing all the way over there.”
Sam’s lips twitched as he crossed the floor. “So that’s the plan for tonight, huh? You jump my bones every chance you get?”
Blue eyes went wide and round. “You know what they say about dogs and bones.”
“They bury them in holes?” Sam replied just as innocently.
They both managed to hold it for less than ten seconds before they dissolved into helpless mirth.
“Okay, you win that round,” Philip said, shaking his head. “That was awful.”
“I try.” Sam settled down on one of the cushions on the floor and leaned forward to toss a few more pieces of wood into the flames. He turned one over in his hands. “You sure you’re okay? I… forget how strong my grip can be.”
Philip leaned closer to him. “All the better to keep me three feet off the ground, instead of concussed on the floor.” His smirk was filthy. “I bet I could take your fingerprints from my arse. A unique souvenir of Colorado.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help feeling better. “Not exactly something you can show everyone when you get home.”
Philip flashed his teeth. “Want to bet?”
“You wouldn’t—” Sam cut himself off, shaking his head. “No. I’m not taking that bet. I get the feeling you would do it just to prove me wrong.”
Philip leaned over and propped his chin on Sam’s shoulder. He almost looked angelic with the mess of curls and the innocent blue eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Sam eyed him dubiously. “Sure you don’t.”
Philip tilted his head and nipped Sam’s shoulder. “I’m charming.”
“Mm-hm.”
Philip slid closer, his mouth moving toward Sam’s throat. “I’m delightful.”
“And full of—”
“Impeccable manners.”
“Ha!” It was meant to come out sharply, but was breathy instead, as teeth closed lightly on his windpipe. Philip braced a hand on Sam’s thigh and squeezed with his teeth, and that made Sam’s heart jolt. Philip released his throat at once, replacing his teeth with his tongue, lapping in long strokes, then nuzzling slowly up to Sam’s jaw.
He was scenting Sam, like a dog would have, but he sure as hell wasn’t a dog right now. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, even as he rubbed his cheek close to Sam’s, his breath hot on Sam’s ear.
Sam slipped one hand under the blanket Philip was wearing and ran his palm the length of Philip’s back. It made the younger man shiver, arching into his touch, and they both turned their heads enough for their lips to collide.
The fire was forgotten as Philip straddled Sam’s thighs, the blanket falling from his shoulders. Sam spread his hands on Philip’s back, drawing him closer, as Philip’s hands wandered down over his arms, shoulders, sides, chest. Their mouths were moving against one another, and he felt Philip’s chuff of laughter against his lips when he tweaked both Sam’s nipples and made Sam jump like he’d grabbed a live wire.
It wasn’t like the first time. There was no rushing or staggering to another room. Philip had said he wanted to memorize every inch of Sam, and now, he was doing a pretty good job of fulfilling that wish. Where his hands went, his lips followed. He pressed both palms to Sam’s chest, nudging him to lie back on the pile of cushions and blankets, then sprawled down over him, nibbling, licking, kissing, and teasing his way down the length of Sam’s body. His shorts were tossed aside again.
Every time Sam suggested Philip could head back up, Philip just showed all his teeth, and slowed right the hell down. The bastard, Sam decided, was trying to drive him insane.
Sam liked to think he was pretty good at controlling himself, but Jesus, when even the curve of his calf and the back of his knees were getting attention, it was making him light-headed, his heart pounding so fast it felt like it was buzzing. He groped behind his head, sinking his fingers into one of the cushions.
When Philip finally showed him some mercy, it was only because he had actually whimpered, his whole body wound up so tight it felt like he was going to explode.
Philip laughed, crawling back up to straddle his thighs again. He must have grabbed the lube and condoms from the bathroom before they came through, Sam thought hazily, as Philip sheathed him and lubed him up. He could have helped, if his fingers weren’t still clenched in the pillows.
“You’re an ass,” he said hoarsely.
Philip smirked at him. “You enjoyed it,” he said, and then slid up a little farther, bracing one hand on Sam’s chest. He reached back with the other, guiding Sam against him, then sank down. His eyes fell shut, and he groaned with satisfaction. “Ah. Yes.”
When he started moving, Sam’s senses were already on fire, and having a hot piece of ass bouncing on him made things so much worse. He wasn’t going to last long. Philip knew it too, his teeth bared, eyes dancing, as he moved harder and faster, one hand on Sam’s chest, the other down to his cock.
Sam was done first, sudden and strong enough that he could swear he saw stars. He sagged back on the blankets, panting hard, his vision blurred around the edges. Philip kept moving, body and hand, stuttering, gasping, and then he fell forward, sprawling on Sam’s chest, breathing just as hard as Sam was.
With effort, Sam managed to pull one hand up and run it down Philip’s back. He was slick with sweat, the valley of his spine smooth under Sam’s fingertips.
Philip darted his tongue along Sam’s shoulder again, small, gentle licks. “Thank you,” he murmured, nuzzling at Sam’s shoulder.
“F’what?” Sam asked. He felt pleasantly exhausted and sated, his fingertips trailing patterns on Philip’s back.
“Letting me.”
“Mm?”
Philip pushed himself up, crossing his arms on Sam’s chest. “You could have stopped me any time you wanted.” He smiled tentatively. “Normally, I don’t get more than two minutes.”
Sam gazed at him drowsily. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself. Yeah, you went a long way to driving me crazy, but in a good way.”
Philip propped his chin on his crossed wrists. “You were right,” he murmured, “about the sense of smell. It’s not just smell. It’s taste too.” He butted the tip of his nose against Sam’s chin. “I wanted to see what you were like all over. I got… rather caught up in it.” He licked at the hollow of Sam’s throat, a quick dab of his tongue. “You taste good when you’re up for it.”
Sam peered at him through half-clos
ed lashes. “Okay. Kinda weird, but okay.”
Philip ducked his head, hiding a smile. “Kinda weird. I think you may be understating slightly.”
Sam ran his fingers up between Philip’s shoulders and toyed with the end of his curls. “Maybe a little,” he agreed, “but if I try and concentrate on it, it’s a hell of a thing to think about.” He threaded his fingers through Philip’s hair. “Fun, though. And nobody gets hurt.”
Philip lifted his head to look at him. “Definitely,” he said and leaned down to kiss Sam again.
They didn’t get much further for the rest of the afternoon. Some of it they spent sprawled in front of the fire. Sam drifted to sleep, sated and drowsy, and was woken by the smell of food. Philip—cloaked in a blanket again—was at the stove, humming to himself.
“Feeding me?” Sam murmured, rolling onto his side to peer up at the other man.
“Exactly.” Philip poured some water into one of the pans. “You clearly need to keep up your strength, if you end up falling asleep on me like that.”
Sam sat up, yawning and stretching. “Don’t blame me. Blame the guy who exhausted me to the point of passing out.”
The look Philip shot back at him was lecherous. “I was rather good, wasn’t I?” He stirred one of the pots, the spoon clattering on the sides. “We need you to get your strength back up.”
Sam raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Again? Really?”
Philip tested the contents of the pan, darting his tongue against the spoon. “Well, I do have to go back to civilization come morning, so I would rather like to take advantage of you while I can.” He tilted his head, his eyes a slash of blue between his dark curls. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
Sam leaned back on his hands. “Oh no,” he said wryly. “A cute guy who knows his way around a cock wants me to screw him senseless.” He raised his eyebrows as Philip broke into a grin. “Help, help, I’m being oppressed!”
Philip started laughing. “You really ought not to be so good at that.”
