Heilyn’s cheek, his jaw, and his mouth, where he lingered
tenderly. Heilyn closed his eyes, letting the imagined picture
slide away, and felt the kiss instead, letting it shiver through
him until his toes curled.
“Come into the house
with me,” Emyr murmured warmly against his mouth. “Please.”
Chapter
7
HEILYN WASN'T going to
wait for a second invitation. Seizing Emyr’s hand, he took the lead
this time, tugging him through the woods and across the garden. The
moment the kitchen door swung shut behind them, closing out the
cold, Emyr pressed against him again. He slipped his hands under
Heilyn’s jacket, tugging at the buttons on his shirt, and Heilyn
yelped and squirmed.
“You’re cold!”
“Sorry.” Emyr pulled
his hands back, and Heilyn reacted with thinking, pressing his own
hands over them.
“I didn’t say stop.” It
came out breathy and rough, and Emyr’s eyes widened. He kissed
Heilyn again, his hands busy, and within moments Heilyn’s jacket
was gone, and then his shirt and vest, and it was his bare back
that was pressing against the polished wood of the door. He yelped
at the cold again, lunging forward to wrap himself around Emyr’s
warm body, and Emyr chuckled into his ear, and ran a gentle hand
down his spine.
“Sorry.”
“Take me to bed,”
Heilyn demanded. He’d wanted it to sound like a mock order, but
instead it came out needy and desperate. He had been longing for
Emyr’s touch so long that every part of him was alive to it, the
hairs raised on his arms and his pulse beating hot and hard.
“You know the way.”
Emyr pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and another to the side of
his neck before he stepped back, his hand lingering on Heilyn’s
hip. “Go on, before I convince myself that the table is warm
enough.”
“Oh,” Heilyn said
happily, “we can do that later.” Then he made for the stairs. He’d
gone three steps before Emyr’s hands were curving across his ass
and he was stopped for another lingering kiss.
Emyr’s shirt fell in
the kitchen doorway, and Heilyn’s belt hit the floor halfway down
the hall. His trousers went sliding between the banisters halfway
up the stairs, and he had to cling to the rail and gulp when Emyr
kissed his way down his chest, teasing his nipples to peaks with
slow licks and nibbles and then sliding to his knees on the stairs.
He rubbed his cheek against the soft cloth of Heilyn’s braies, and
Heilyn’s cock leapt at the touch. He was so hard, his balls tight
and his breath coming faster and faster with every press of Emyr’s
hands (hands which were inside his braies now, kneading his ass and
sliding tentatively down his crack).
“Heilyn,” Emyr sighed,
kissing him softly through his braies.
“Uh-uh.” He was
trembling, shaking in anticipation from his lips to his toes. He’d
never trembled for a man before.
“If you want to do this
in a bed…”
“Uh.”
“..run,” Emyr finished
softly, sliding apart the knot that closed Heilyn’s braies.
He ran, the last of his
clothes falling off him as he moved. By the time he made it across
the threshold of Emyr’s room, he was naked, and Emyr’s arm was
closing around his waist, and he was being tossed down onto Emyr’s
crumpled sheets. Emyr’s mouth descended on his, and Emyr’s body
pressed him down, and Heilyn simply wound his arms around Emyr’s
neck and groaned into his mouth. He needed this, needed so much to
be touched–touched by Emyr, beautiful, sad Emyr with his lonely
eyes and, oh, wicked hands. He rocked his hips up hard, rubbing his
cock against Emyr’s lean thigh in relief that he could finally let
the pleasure build and build towards a hot—
“Oh, no,” Emyr gasped,
and rolled off him. “Not so fast.”
Heilyn let out a
wordless protest and lunged after him, but Emyr pressed him back
against the pillows, his hands firm on Heilyn’s shoulders.
“Emyr!”
Emyr kissed him, slow
and hungry, his hand stroking down Heilyn’s body,
tenderly. Heilyn closed his eyes, letting the imagined picture
slide away, and felt the kiss instead, letting it shiver through
him until his toes curled.
“Come into the house
with me,” Emyr murmured warmly against his mouth. “Please.”
Chapter
7
HEILYN WASN'T going to
wait for a second invitation. Seizing Emyr’s hand, he took the lead
this time, tugging him through the woods and across the garden. The
moment the kitchen door swung shut behind them, closing out the
cold, Emyr pressed against him again. He slipped his hands under
Heilyn’s jacket, tugging at the buttons on his shirt, and Heilyn
yelped and squirmed.
“You’re cold!”
“Sorry.” Emyr pulled
his hands back, and Heilyn reacted with thinking, pressing his own
hands over them.
“I didn’t say stop.” It
came out breathy and rough, and Emyr’s eyes widened. He kissed
Heilyn again, his hands busy, and within moments Heilyn’s jacket
was gone, and then his shirt and vest, and it was his bare back
that was pressing against the polished wood of the door. He yelped
at the cold again, lunging forward to wrap himself around Emyr’s
warm body, and Emyr chuckled into his ear, and ran a gentle hand
down his spine.
“Sorry.”
“Take me to bed,”
Heilyn demanded. He’d wanted it to sound like a mock order, but
instead it came out needy and desperate. He had been longing for
Emyr’s touch so long that every part of him was alive to it, the
hairs raised on his arms and his pulse beating hot and hard.
“You know the way.”
Emyr pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and another to the side of
his neck before he stepped back, his hand lingering on Heilyn’s
hip. “Go on, before I convince myself that the table is warm
enough.”
“Oh,” Heilyn said
happily, “we can do that later.” Then he made for the stairs. He’d
gone three steps before Emyr’s hands were curving across his ass
and he was stopped for another lingering kiss.
Emyr’s shirt fell in
the kitchen doorway, and Heilyn’s belt hit the floor halfway down
the hall. His trousers went sliding between the banisters halfway
up the stairs, and he had to cling to the rail and gulp when Emyr
kissed his way down his chest, teasing his nipples to peaks with
slow licks and nibbles and then sliding to his knees on the stairs.
He rubbed his cheek against the soft cloth of Heilyn’s braies, and
Heilyn’s cock leapt at the touch. He was so hard, his balls tight
and his breath coming faster and faster with every press of Emyr’s
hands (hands which were inside his braies now, kneading his ass and
sliding tentatively down his crack).
“Heilyn,” Emyr sighed,
kissing him softly through his braies.
“Uh-uh.” He was
trembling, shaking in anticipation from his lips to his toes. He’d
never trembled for a man before.
“If you want to do this
in a bed…”
“Uh.”
“..run,” Emyr finished
softly, sliding apart the knot that closed Heilyn’s braies.
He ran, the last of his
clothes falling off him as he moved. By the time he made it across
the threshold of Emyr’s room, he was naked, and Emyr’s arm was
closing around his waist, and he was being tossed down onto Emyr’s
crumpled sheets. Emyr’s mouth descended on his, and Emyr’s body
pressed him down, and Heilyn simply wound his arms around Emyr’s
neck and groaned into his mouth. He needed this, needed so much to
be touched–touched by Emyr, beautiful, sad Emyr with his lonely
eyes and, oh, wicked hands. He rocked his hips up hard, rubbing his
cock against Emyr’s lean thigh in relief that he could finally let
the pleasure build and build towards a hot—
“Oh, no,” Emyr gasped,
and rolled off him. “Not so fast.”
Heilyn let out a
wordless protest and lunged after him, but Emyr pressed him back
against the pillows, his hands firm on Heilyn’s shoulders.
“Emyr!”
Emyr kissed him, slow
and hungry, his hand stroking down Heilyn’s body,
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