When I get outside, Macsen is across the narrow street leaning against a wall, his head tilted towards the sky, eyes closed.
Like a creeper, I take a moment to stare at him.
From his dark hair, sharp cheekbones and firm lips, to the long column of his neck. He swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple sending a bolt of need straight to my cock.
It’s time to get out of here.
Before I lift one foot to step off the kerb, his head straightens, his eyes open and lock directly on mine like a heat-seeking missile.
He knew I was there all along. He likes my eyes on him as much as I like his on me, especially in those instances where he thinks I can’t feel him watching me.
“Jozef says you must introduce yourself when you dine here next, and Eleri told me to tell you that you’re pretty cool for a brandy drinker.”
I feign a casual air when I feel anything but, my emotions and feelings on a continuous rollercoaster around him.
I want to fuck him. I want to kiss him. I want to sit and talk to him for hours. I want to make him laugh. I want to find out what makes him tick. I want to discover the softest areas of skin on his body, and I want to taste them all. I want to drive him mad with desire and see what sounds I can extract from his lips. I want to scent him and mark him with mine.
I want him.
Full stop.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he questions, brow cocked, hand casually in his pocket, trying too hard to seem unaffected by my sudden nearness.
“Like what? Like I want to strip you bare and lick you all over?”
“Yes.” His answer is a mere breath on the air between us.
“Because that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
He clears his throat, shifts his stance, and I don’t miss the hand in his pocket subtly rearranging things that I imagine are starting to… throb.
“Then, let me rephrase. Why are you looking at me like that in public, when we’re a ten-minute walk away from somewhere private where you can make good on that intention?”
I smirk. His attempt at cockiness and turning the tables is about to get him in trouble.
“You forget,”—I let my eyes slowly trail over him— “that this is my stomping ground.” I carefully reach out, hook a finger in his belt loop and tug him off the wall. “I know every inch of this little town. Every alley, every nook, and every place a person can hide from prying eyes.”
He swallows thickly, but I see the heat in his stare. He’d let me take him anywhere right now. Let me do whatever I wanted to his body.
And that trust is headier than a quick fumble in a dark corner.
“But not tonight. Tonight, I’m having you in my bed. Now,”—I give one sharp tug and pull him flush against me— “Follow me, Mr Evans. I have dessert with your name on it.”
Chapter 15
Macsen
Ellis leads me back to Safe Harbour at a pace that feels more like a jog than a brisk walk. We don’t go through the main doors. We take the alley to the side entrance dodging anyone in our path, Ellis throwing brusque ‘Hellos’ and ‘Goodbyes’ at those oblivious enough to try to delay our mission for dessert.
He digs in his pocket for his key as we come around the corner. The door is opened less than a second later, I’m hauled through it, and the world is locked out again before I can splutter a breathless laugh.
“Wh—”
My words are silenced with a bruising kiss, my back hitting the closed door hard enough to rattle it on its hinges, and Ellis is on me like a man deprived.
His hard body presses into mine in all the right places, his kiss borderline aggressive, and his roaming hands unrestrained as they tug and rub and pull and squeeze.
“I know you’re inexperienced. I know I should go slow,” he pants between nips of teeth and thrusts of tongue. “But I don’t think I can hold back.”
I tear my mouth away, dragging in oxygen and promising him I can take it, that there’s no need for him to restrain himself.
“This body might be untouched, but you and me, we’ve come together a thousand times, Ell. I’ve craved this as much as you.” My lips find the shell of his ear. “I need this as much as you.” He shivers, and it emboldens me. “Don’t go slow, take what you need. Give me what I’ve waited for, for so many years. So many fucking years.”
His responding growl rumbles through my skin as he nips at my neck. The rolling of his hips becomes firmer and more directed, and the hand clamped on my waist is sure to leave a perfect mark.
“Upstairs now.”
He spins me, his body crowding against my back and all but pushing me up each step, all while his hands seek and grope and touch and caress.
“The door to my place is never locked. Go straight in.” His demand vibrates across the sensitive skin at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. The feel of his mouth there has an adverse effect on my ability to put one foot in front of the other.
“My room is closer,” I manage to pant, reaching down to give my cock a warning squeeze as it fights to break free from my trousers.
“No.” His harsh refusal is a maddening rumble of sound that pulsates through my skin, heating my blood from simmer to boil. “I need you in my bed.”
And, I have no argument for that. Because, right now, his bed is the only place I want to be.
With seeking hands, and jelly limbs—he’s seeking, I’m like jelly—we stumble through his front door, and he directs me to turn right, avoiding the living areas, down a short hallway straight to his room.
I can’t tell you the colour of the walls, or if his bed is made. I couldn’t say if the place is a messy pigsty and he’s lazy, or if it’s barren and he’s a clean freak. I can’t tell you any of that because before I take one step over the threshold, he’s spinning me around again, dragging my body to his, and destroying my senses when his mouth takes mine.
One hand grips my hip, his other hot palm wraps around my nape, and his mouth—fuck, his mouth—attacks mine with even more fervour.
My back finds a wall, my fingers digging into the cotton of his shirt, and just at the right time because Ellis’s body pushes hard into mine, and I swear the wall and his presence are the only things keeping me upright.
“Fuck,” spills from my lips on a shaky exhale when his mouth leaves mine, but his devout attention never stops as he nips and bites his way to my neck. My hips punch forward needing more—more friction, more touch, more Ellis.
And he gives it to me.
His hand at my waist slides over my hip and down to my arse, his fingers grabbing hold of the plump flesh and squeezing. The move has me clenching, my body taut and ready to snap as we become even more impossibly connected. Every inch of my clothed skin touches his. The hard ridge of his cock rubs up along mine and sends me out of my bloody mind.
I spread my legs, needing to relieve the tightness there and—yes—wanting him to slide even closer still. His firm thigh presses deliciously against the intense ache that screams for release, and the obscene moan that falls from my lips only spurs Ellis on.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t get enough. Can’t get close enough. Need more, Macs.” His words are thick and hoarsely whispered through juddering breaths as he tears his mouth away.