Black Dagger Brotherhood 11 - Lover at Last (44 page)

And he would be able to claim not only his own mate…but the throne.

FORTY

Qhuinn knew he’d put Blay in a totally unfair position.

Talk about pity fucks. But oh, God…looking into those blue eyes, those goddamn

bottomless blue eyes that were open to him in the way they’d once been…it was all he could

think about. And yeah, technically it was sex in terms of where he wanted his various body

parts—well, one specifically. There was so much more to it than that, though.

He couldn’t put it into words; he just wasn’t that good working with syllables. But his desire for

the connection was why he’d gone in for the kiss. He’d wanted to show Blay what he meant, what he

needed, why this was important: His whole world felt like it was crashing and burning, and the loss that was happening just one door down the hall was going to hurt for a very long time.

Yet being with Blay, feeling the heat, making that contact, was like a promise of healing. Even if it lasted only as long as they were in this room together, he would take it, and hold it dear…and relive the memory when he needed to.

“Please,” he whispered.

Except he didn’t give the guy a chance to reply. His tongue snaked out and licked at that mouth,

slipping inside, taking over.

And Blay’s answer was in the way he allowed himself to get pushed back into the cushions of the

couch.

Qhuinn had two vague thoughts: One, the door was only closed, not locked—and he took care of

that by willing the brass bolt into place. His second oh-hey-now was that they couldn’t trash the

place. Going H-bomb all over his bedroom was one thing. This sitting room was public property, and

done up all nice, with silk throw pillows and fancy-dancy drapes, and a whole lot of stuff that looked easily rippable, crushable, and, God forbid, stainable.

Besides, he had already wrecked his Hummer, torn up the garden, and then blendered his

bedroom. So his Destructor quota had been waaaaaay reached for this calendar year…

Naturally, the most reasonable solution to not giving Fritz more to worry about was a quick trip

down the hall to his own place, but as Blay’s talented hands shot around to the front of Qhuinn’s hips and started working his fly, he tossed that bright idea right into the shitter.

“Oh, God, touch me,” he groaned, thrusting his pelvis forward.

He was just going to have to be neat and tidy about this.

Assuming that was possible.

When Blay’s palm shoved into his leathers, Qhuinn’s body went into an arch, his torso bowing

back as he started to get worked. The angle was kind of wrong, so there wasn’t a lot of friction, and his balls were getting pinched to fuck in the crotch of his pants, but holy hell, he didn’t care. The fact that it was Blay was enough for him.

Man, after how many years of blow jobs, hand jobs, and jerking off, this felt like the first time

anyone had ever touched him.

He needed to return the favor.

Snapping into action, he threw his chest forward, bringing their faces close. Man, he loved the

look in those blue eyes as Blay stared up at him, hot, wild, glowing.

Willing.

Qhuinn grabbed on hard and brought their mouths together, grinding against those lips, shooting

his tongue out, taking like a crazy—

“Wait, wait.” Blay yanked back. “We’re going to break the couch.”

“Wha…?” The guy was apparently talking English, but damned if he could translate. “Couch?”

And then he realized that he’d pushed Blay so far back into the arm, the thing was starting to bend out. Which was what more than five hundred pounds of sex would do to a piece of furniture.

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

He was starting to retreat when Blay took control—and Qhuinn abruptly found himself off the sofa

and onto the floor on his back, his legs shoved together, his leathers being yanked down to his ankles.

Perfect. Fucking. Idea.

Thanks to the fact that he went commando, his cock was all about the airtime, thick and straining

as it popped out and lay, aching and swollen, upon his belly. Reaching down, he gave it a couple of strokes as Blay ripped off the shitkickers that blocked the way and tossed them aside. Pants were the next good-bye, and as God was his witness, Qhuinn had never been so glad to see a pair of leathers

flying over a shoulder in his life.

And then Blay got to work.

Qhuinn had to shut his eyes as he felt his thighs get parted and a pair of fighter’s hands drag up the inside of his legs. He immediately let go of his erection—after all, why have his palm in the way

when Blay’s could—

It wasn’t the guy’s hands that gripped him.

It was the warm, wet mouth Qhuinn had just kissed the hell out of.

For a split second, as the suction grabbed onto his head and shaft, he had a ball-shrinking thought that Saxton had taught Blay how to do this—his fucking cousin had done this to the guy, and had this done to him—

Stop it, he told himself. Whatever the history or the lessons learned, his erection was the one

getting the attention at the moment. So fuck that shit.

To make sure that was clear, he forced his lids open. Fucking…hell…

Blay’s head was going up and down over his hips, his fist holding the base of Qhuinn’s cock, his

other hand working his balls. But then, like he’d been waiting for eye contact, the guy pulled up to the top, popped the head free, and licked his lips.

“Wouldn’t want you making a mess in this nice room,” Blay drawled.

And then he extended the tip of his tongue to flick Qhuinn’s PA, the pink flesh teasing at the

gunmetal gray hoop and ball—

“Fuck, I’m coming right now,” Qhuinn barked, a tremendous release boiling up. “I’m—”

He was powerless to stop things, any more than someone who’d jumped off a cliff could decide,

like ten yards into the free fall, to pull back.

Except he didn’t want to put the brakes on.

And he didn’t.

With a mighty roar—that most certainly was heard elsewhere—Qhuinn’s spine jacked off the

floor, his ass going tight, his balls exploding, his arousal kicking hard in Blay’s mouth. And it wasn’t just his sex that was affected. The release coursed throughout his whole body, shimmering energy

surging through him as he dug his fingers into the rug he was on, and gritted his teeth…and came like a wild animal.

Fortunately, Blay was more than capable at cleanup—and didn’t that just make him orgasm even

more. Also gave him plenty to watch: For the rest of his days, Qhuinn was never going to forget the sight of the male’s mouth wrapped around him, cheeks sucking in as he drew out the release and took it all. Over and over and over again.

Usually Qhuinn was ready to go immediately afterward, but when the rolling waves finally

stopped crashing into him, he went utterly limp, arms falling flat to the floor, knees going lax, head lolling.

All things considered, that had probably been the best orgasm of his life. Second only to the ones

he’d had earlier in the day with the guy.

“I can’t move,” he mumbled.

Blay’s laugh was deep and sexy. “You look a little wrung-out.”

“Can I return the favor?”

“Can you lift your head?”

“Is it still attached to my body?”

“From what I can see, yes.”

As Blay chuckled again, Qhuinn knew what he wanted to do—and was kind of surprised at

himself. In all his sexual exploits, he’d never allowed himself to get fucked. That just wasn’t part of the way things went. He was the conqueror, the taker, the one who established control and retained

that superiority.

Bottoming just wasn’t anything he’d been interested in.

Now he wanted it.

The only problem was, he literally couldn’t move. And, well, there was something else—how

could he tell Blay that he was a virgin?

Because he wanted to. If they ever went there, he wanted Blay to know. For some reason that was

important.

Abruptly, Blay’s face came into his line of vision, and God, the fighter was beautiful, his cheeks

flushed, his eyes gleaming, those big shoulders blocking out everything.

And, oh, yeah, that smile was sexy as hell, so self-satisfied and self-confident—as if the fact that Blay had given such pleasure to someone else was enough to make him not even need a release of his

own.

But that wasn’t fair, was it.

“I don’t think you’re moving anytime soon,” Blay said.

“Maybe. But I can open my mouth,” Qhuinn replied darkly. “Almost as wide as you can.”

Right, okay, the idea that he’d given Qhuinn an orgasm like that was so goddamned affirming, Blay

had forgotten all about his own body.

The thing was, after so many years of getting shut down, it was a total rush to feel powerful

against the guy, to be the one who set the pace…to be the person who took Qhuinn to an erotic,

vulnerable place that was so much more intense than any other he’d been to. And that was what had

happened. He knew exactly what Qhuinn looked and sounded like when he came, and Blay could say,

without any equivocation, that he’d never seen his buddy undone like that, sprawled out on a rug, neck muscles straining, abs seized up, hips pumping hard.

Qhuinn had literally come for about twenty minutes straight.

And now, in the aftermath, a strange revelation: Until just this moment, Blay had never recognized

the cynicism that Qhuinn carried in his face at all times…the furrowed brow, the perpetual snarking turn on one side of that mouth, the jaw that never, ever loosened up.

It was as if all the nastiness his family had done to him had permanently warped the features.

But that wasn’t true, was it. During that orgasm, and now, as things calmed down, none of the

tension was anywhere to be found. Qhuinn’s face was…wiped clean of all reserve, appearing so

much younger, Blay had to wonder why he’d never noticed the age before.

“So will you give me something to suck on as I recover?” Qhuinn asked.

“Wha…?”

“I said I’m thirsty. And I need something to suck on.” At this, Qhuinn bit his lower lip, his bright white fangs sinking into the flesh. “Will you help me?”

Blay’s eyes rolled back into his head. “Yeah…I can do that.”

“Then let me see you take your pants off.”

Blay’s legs popped him up from the floor so fast, he had fresh insights into the laws of physics,

and while he kicked off his loafers, his hands shook to get his trousers unbuttoned. Things went

quickly from there. And the whole time he was stripping, he was preternaturally aware of everything in the room—especially Qhuinn. The male was getting hard again, his sex thickening in spite of

everything it had just been through…those heavy thighs clenching and that pelvis rolling…the lower

belly so lean that every minute shift of the torso was reflected under taut, tan skin.

“Oh, yeah…” Qhuinn hissed, his fangs extending from his upper jaw, his hand seeking out his sex

and stroking long and slow. “There it is.”

Blay’s breath started to pump, his heart rate going through the roof as Qhuinn’s mismatched eyes

latched onto his sex.

“That’s what I want,” the male growled, letting go of himself and reaching up with both hands.

For a split second, Blay wasn’t sure how the body parts were going to work. Qhuinn was in front

of the sofa, running parallel to the thing, so there wasn’t a lot of room—

A subtle pumping growl percolated through the air as Qhuinn flexed his fingers—like he couldn’t

wait to get hold of what he wanted.

Fuck the advance planning.

Blay’s knees obeyed the call, hinging forward, bringing his weight down to the floor by Qhuinn’s

head.

Qhuinn took over from there. His palms snaked out and grabbed on, drawing Blay in so that

before he knew it, he had one knee behind the guy’s head and the other leg thrown out to the side, all the way down by Qhuinn’s hip.

“Oh…fuck…” Blay groaned as he felt his sex go in between Qhuinn’s lips.

His body listed forward until his torso ended up sprawled on the couch cushions—and that was

when he unexpectedly found himself with a boatload of leverage. Bracing his arms on the sofa, he

distributed his weight among his knees, his feet, and palms…and then proceded to fuck the ever-

loving shit out of Qhuinn’s mouth.

The guy took it all, even as Blay unhinged his hips and thrust with everything he had.

With Qhuinn’s fingers biting into his ass, and that incredible suction, and…Christ, that tongue

piercing, the ball of which dug into his shaft with every stroke…Blay started to gear up for exactly the kind of orgasm Qhuinn had just had.

And yet, in the back of his mind, he wondered whether he was hurting the guy. At this point, he

was going to come into his friend’s stomach, for godsakes—

Too late to worry about that.