Suddenly, I wanted Blake badly. I didn’t look my best, I knew, and we would definitely need to clean up first. Perhaps we could shower together. We didn’t do that last time. Then Arne might have made something good in the kitchen tonight, and Blake could join me for a meal. A few beers, watch a movie, fuck some more. Chat, laugh, snuggle.
What the hell was going on in my head right now?
“The first time we talked,” Blake was saying, unaware of the way my mind was racing. “You said how much you liked sex. And money, of course.”
“Blake?” I said abruptly, my lips so close to him I could breathe into his mouth. “I like sex with you.”
It seemed as if he held his breath. His pupils dilated. I hadn’t known exactly what I meant to say when the words spilled out—nor what he’d hear in them—but it had been the pure truth.
“Lead the way,” he said softly.
TEN
The shower in Room 4 was embarrassingly small, barely enough room for me, let alone both of us. But we found a way to take turns, one under the showerhead, the other leaning on the screen door and fucking him against the tiles. It satisfied us both. Very much. Blake may have been fifteen or so years older than me, but he matched me in appetite and stamina.
Shit, but he was sexy. And fun, and generous with his kisses, and with his fucking. Harsh when it suited us both, but tender when needed, like when I banged my weak knee on the sink and my leg collapsed under me. I slumped awkwardly, had a brief moment of panic as a deluge of water poured into my throat, and I stupidly reacted like one of Tom’s melodramas. But Blake supported me out of the shower with no fuss. He indulged me.
We moved back into the bedroom, laughing, teasing. I was still towelling my hair dry, and Blake hadn’t bothered keeping a towel on at all. His naked body was a real treat of a view. Thick legs, stocky body, ramrod-straight back—except when he’d been bent over the taps in the shower, rocking under me as I thrust.
“Sit,” he ordered, and I did, though the pain in my knee was easing. Luckily, I knew all kinds of physical angles I could use in bed that would allow me to rest it, yet Blake would get his money’s worth… though, thinking more clearly, I wasn’t sure he had paid at all this evening. And, thinking even less clearly, I wasn’t sure I cared.
“Do you pay for an escort often?” I asked.
“No. Never.”
“Really?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t I say honesty is all-important to me? It’s not because of the money. I’m well paid as a junior partner in the Edinburgh firm, and I’ve earned it. I’m proud of my position. Proud to follow in my father’s footsteps.”
There was steel in his expression. I suspected Blake Jr. would far outstrip Sr. one day.
“I just never met a man I wanted as much as you, Dante. And however that happens, I’ll take it. Unless…”
“Unless?”
“Unless you don’t want me in return.”
My pulse hammered painfully in my throat. “I’m an escort Blake. You pay, I give it up.”
He winced. “Yes, I understand the bloody business principles. But the Haven is a little different, in that you all have a choice, don’t you?”
I didn’t know what to say. I knew I’d wanted him as much as he seemed to want me, from the first moment he appeared in the lobby, snow-damp hair and bright, shrewd eyes, expensive suit and that stupidly sexy, luscious, blue necktie. Confidence and control personified.
“Answer me,” he said, too gently.
“Yes,” I said. My voice sounded hoarse. “We can accept or refuse a client.”
“Then, you accept me?”
What did he want to hear? Obviously I did, then and now. “Yes.” Oh god. It felt like I was admitting a lot more.
“Good. That’s a start.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His cock hung heavily on top of his balls. He didn’t shave down there, and now it stirred on its bed of dark, wiry curls. My mouth grew dry as he stepped up close to me, parting my thighs to stand at my groin, hands on my shoulders. It didn’t take a push from him to make me lay back willingly. Even then, he took his time, running his hands along the insides of my thighs, weighing my balls in his palm, stroking a couple of fingers back along my taint, until I was as hard again as he was. I watched as he opened another condom and rolled it on. I couldn’t have looked away if my life depended on it.
I swallowed to clear my throat. “Hands and knees again?”
He shook his head. “No. I want to watch your face.”
“That’s what it’s about, Blake. Whatever you want,” I said, and pulled my legs farther apart, my feet planted on the mattress. When he leaned over me, pupils blown wide, I reached for him. I wanted another kiss, to feel his chest rubbing on mine, his hot breath on my throat. But instead, he took hold of my hands in one of his and pressed them to the pillow above my head.
I wasn’t scared. But I suspected I wasn’t in charge any more, either.
“So, you like the domination thing?” My voice sounded weird.
“I told you, I like you, Dante,” he said, barely above a whisper. “And I want you to just lie there and take it. Take what I want to give you.”
Then he dropped his head the last few inches and kissed me. At the same time, he slid his free hand under his cock and guided it into me. I was still lubed from our session in the shower, but even so, he felt larger and tighter inside me this time. He let go of my hands, but something made me keep them clasped above my head as he started to move inside me.
“Tell me. Show me,” he said softly.
I couldn’t stop the groans as he pegged my prostate every time; as he slicked my cock in rhythm with his thrusts. “So good,” I moaned, increasingly breathless, and I meant every damn word. “Don’t stop. Do it, Blake. Fuck. Do it.”
He watched me all the way. It took me only a few minutes to realise this wasn’t a power game to him. He wasn’t trying to master me, to bully me, like other clients did. It wasn’t his fantasy happening here, although there was no doubt he was getting off on it. He grunted with every push, his eyes shone with tears of effort, his belly muscles were tight, and a sheen of sweat had sprung up on his forehead. But his gaze was almost… protective.
He wanted to make it good for me.
“You close?” he asked, voice ragged.
I never got the chance to answer—my climax thundered its approach, shaking my limbs, the sparks coursing through me like the lightning a storm would bring. I arched under him, mouth wide in a soundless yell, my cum spitting over my belly.
I fell back with an embarrassing whimper, chest heaving, and hands curled into painful fists. As Blake’s climax followed mine, his breath stuttering, his hips sticky with sweat against my inner thighs, I was startled when he cupped my face with his hand and stroked a stray tear from my cheek.
ELEVEN
We lay back on the bed, side by side, our breath steadying. It was a while since I’d felt so used—since I’d enjoyed sex so much.
“You wanted to know my story?” I said. My voice seemed to echo in the quiet room. Blake didn’t reply but I felt him go still. “I was training in one of the big London accounting firms. But there was a partner who knew I was gay. He wanted me. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”