We barely made it inside before he pushed me against the door and cupped my face for a kiss that went on and on and grew deeper and more powerful as he held me there, pinned by his hips.
My cock was a rigid ache against the zipper of my jeans. He pressed his thigh between my legs, and I rode it like some shameless high school kid. He dug his fingers into my hair and stroked my temples with his thumbs. He dipped his mouth lower, kissing my jaw, my Adam’s apple, down the column of my throat.
“Tug,” I whispered.
“Call me Thuong.” He nipped at my Adam’s apple. “I want to be Thuong for you.”
“Oh God.” I whispered as I pressed my lips to his hair. “Yes. God yes. You’re my Thuong.”
“I am.” He shyly lifted his glassy eyes to mine and repeated, “I’m your Thuong.”
After that, he opened the buttons on my shirt and mouthed each inch of me he uncovered. He found my sensitive nipples with his fingers first, then grazed them with his tongue and teeth. He snuffled into my armpits to make me squirm. I gave up a chortle and tried to touch him wherever he’d let me, wherever I could reach.
He found my ticklish places and the ones that made me gasp audibly, until my shirt was open and he was sliding it off my shoulders and kissing his way down my arm.
In the haze of raw need, I didn’t even question whether Tug’s seduction was organic or artful. He conquered each part of my body—piece by piece—because it felt natural to want this, to be his, whether it was real or an illusion.
My shirt whispered to the floor.
The only light came from the crack between the blackout drapes, but Tug didn’t seem to need it. He dropped to his knees with his hands still splayed over my chest and mouthed me through the thick denim of my jeans.
“Okay?” he asked breathlessly. “Okay if I suck you?”
“Yes.” I combed my fingers through his hair and cupped his jaw. “Only if… if you want.”
The leather of my belt whapped, and the buckle clanked when he opened it to reach my fly. One button. One zipper. My whole world narrowed to Tug’s mouth and what lay beneath his questing fingers.
Hot steamy breath seared me through a layer of cotton.
God, if I’d thought about this at all, I’d have worn something a little bit edgier than white briefs. Tug didn’t seem to mind nosing into the fabric, all mumbled words and muted sensation that turned my fluttering stomach butterflies into a hornets’ nest of piercing greedy need.
“Please.” I let my head fall back against the door. “Thuong, please.”
“Like this?” He gripped the elastic and moved the fabric until my dampened dick and balls met cooling air.
“Yes.” I tightened my fingers in his hair.
God, he was beautiful. Eyes closed, cheeks flushed. Full lips slick with spit and dark as wine from our kisses, he nuzzled me, breathing in audibly.
He nosed into my balls, the space between my thighs. “Thuong.”
I watched his expression go from soft and almost reverent to determined and a little bit smug. A knowing smile crested his lips. I was too far gone to guess whether this was what he really wanted or if it was something he wanted to give me because I meant something to him. I was too deeply into the way he opened his mouth and lowered it over my cock—too utterly selfish—to ask.
His first lick, the suction, the dreamy expression that came over his face nearly sealed the deal for me right then. My thigh muscles quivered violently. Thuong glanced up again before taking my hips in an almost punishing grip as he lowered his mouth to take me deep.
My knees buckled. I would have fallen if not for the door at my back.
Thuong’s mouth slid down my length twice before pulling off. “Okay?”
“God yes.” I folded in half to kiss the top of his head. He tilted his face back to brush his cheek against mine.
“Up,” he commanded.
I straightened and spread my legs farther apart. “I’ll let you know before—”
“Do it.” He gave my hips an extra squeeze. “Come in my mouth. I want you to.”
“Thuong—” I stiffened. We hadn’t had this conversation. We hadn’t even talked around the subject. He should know that his partners were negative. He should ask and not assume.
He sighed. “You know I’ve been tested recently. I’m negative. What about you?”
“Negative. There hasn’t been anyone in—” I closed my eyes because I couldn’t math. “I’m negative. Two different tests, six months apart. There’s been nobody since.”
The wet, slick heat of his mouth washed over both my dick and my brain, and after that, he sucked me with sex sounds and gasps and—once—a choking cough when I got so enthusiastic I fought against the tight fingers on my hips and thrust too deeply.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” I stroked his hair. “Sorry. Okay?”
“Mm. God yeah. Take my mouth, Luke. Steal my breath. Take what you want. Let me be your boy tonight.”
My throat burned with pity and something that felt a little too close to love. And wonder. I was so in awe of this Thuong—my sweet, feral, broken boy—that tears stung my eyes.
He slid his lips down my cock again, moaning as he did it. That started a belly-tingling cascade of sensations as I hit the point of no return. My legs shook so hard I could barely stand, and my hips seemed to stutter. I cupped the sides of Thuong’s lovely face and took, and took, and took, and took.
When the storm of my orgasm faded, I wiped the jizz leaking from the corner of his mouth with my thumb. He released my cock with a soft sigh.
Limp with completion, I slid down the slickly painted door and landed between his knees. He pulled me to him. I rested my head on his shoulder.
I had taken my satisfaction from him, and now I demanded comfort too, burying my face in his neck, nudging my arms around his waist.
Dimly, I heard him whisper, “Shh, shh. It’s all right.”
He pushed me back and swiped the dampness from my cheeks with his thumbs.
“You’re okay,” he said softly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
He let me curl close. I wanted to crawl inside him. How had we gone from me being the one to rescue him, to him knowing exactly what I needed now.
I took a few deep breaths. “What about you? My God, are you all right?”
I’d been rough with him and he’d allowed it. Now I felt ashamed.
“I’m fine.” He rocked me gently.
He took his time, placing kiss after kiss on my forehead as I wound down.
“Come on.” He used the doorknob to help himself up and then drew me with him.
Awkwardly, I held the waistband of my jeans so I could walk. He stripped back the coverlet and helped me onto the bed where he tapped on my shoes.
“Let’s get these off, okay?”
I toed out of my shoes and pulled off my socks. He pulled my jeans the rest of the way off. Turnabout was fair play, for real. Hadn’t I done all this for him?
“Scoot over.” I did as he asked. “Looks like you need a hug.”
He wrapped both arms around me from behind.
I turned my head to see him. “What do you need?”
He sighed. “I’m fine just like this.”