"I… um… yes."
I squeezed his hand encouragingly. "There are several reasons why we should keep our relationship professional."
Shiloh tried to tug away after that, but I held on tightly.
"But for as many reasons as I can conjure, I can think of a hundred more reasons why I don't want to. I know it is your birthday today, Shiloh, but you are still young and—"
He shocked me, lunging forward to press his soft lips against mine. I'd wanted to kiss the man from nearly the first time I met him. I didn't know what he truly looked like—I had a picture in my mind, but that wasn't the point—but I understood how my body reacted to him. My inner beast, normally so placid and carefree, kept constant tabs on him, making sure that if I wasn't in Shiloh's immediate presence that I at least knew where he was. His scent was intoxicating, and from what I'd felt of his body, I knew I'd never be able to touch him enough once the clothes started coming off.
The feel of his mouth moving beneath my own unlocked a dam. I cupped his nape with my free hand, pushing my fingers up the back of his head, where I could grip his hair and hold him in place. He must have set his coffee down as well because his body crushed against my front, allowing me to feel the persistent nudging from between his legs. He was hard for me.
I growled, sliding my tongue between his lips. My erection stiffened to the point of pain. It strained beneath the unforgiving fabric of my slacks. He tasted the same way he smelled: alluring, sexy, and mine. I continued to kiss him, letting my free hand roam over his clothed body. He whimpered under my touch, and when my palm grazed between his legs, he attempted to thrust into my hand. I growled and gripped him over his pants.
"Beckett," he moaned. "I need…" His voice rode on the edge of desperation.
For weeks we'd both been pretending that this wasn't between us. But we'd been lying.
I stood and spun his chair around so that he faced out. This way, nothing blocked me from kissing his neck, mentally mapping the peaks and valleys that met my lips. The pulse at his throat fluttered beneath my tongue, and I sucked hard, drawing a long groan from his lips. His muscles quivered under my touch, and while I knew he was enjoying himself, I wanted to hear it. "Shiloh." I murmured his name without stopping what I was doing. "I've spent so many nights imagining the way your body would feel."
He whimpered but stayed silent, leading me to make assumptions on his experience. I didn't mind if he wasn't well versed sexually. I understood that he was shy as well. That would just make coaxing words from his lips that much sweeter. "You turn me on, Shiloh. These days have been torture not touching you." I sucked his bottom lip before licking the reddened flesh.
"I think about you too," he confessed softly.
I smiled. He hadn't said much, but his soft, sweet words meant the world to me. "What do you think about?" I asked, fully aware of how much I was playing with fire. There were things about me that Shiloh didn't know, things that might make him change his mind when it came to us, but his actions up to this point led me to believe otherwise.
"You," he grunted softly. "Touching me, like you are now. This morning, when you were standing behind me as I locked my front door, I thought about pushing my bottom b-back." He inhaled a sharp breath. "I pictured you bending me over right there."
I recalled the moment, remembering I'd had a similar thought. My cock, already hard, stiffened further at the memory. "Is that what you want?" I asked hotly against his ear. When he didn't immediately respond, I grinned. "Are you nodding again?"
"Yes," he said, his skin heating. He bent forward almost like he was folding into me and pressed his face against my chest. "I keep doing that, I'm sorry."
The feeling of his head nestled over my heart was one I wasn't ready for, nor was I ready for how my body would feel. My arms wrapped around him as if by reflex. "Have you experienced this before?"
He responded quickly, and though his voice was breathy, his words were confident. "Nothing has ever felt like this."
My growl tore through my chest, and I sunk down, fumbling for the button at the front of his pants. "We aren't having intercourse right now," I told him.
He whined softly.
"We need to have a few more discussions before we do that, but if I don't get you in my mouth, I might explode."
"I—I wouldn't want you to explode," he said sweetly. Innocently.
I'd lived my life feeling as though I was above my baser urges. I didn't indulge in anything. I almost never drank, ate a balanced diet, and tried to get an appropriate amount of sleep, even if I sometimes had to play catchup. It hadn't been all that difficult to ignore temptations. I'd been led into believing I simply wasn't the type to become twisted with desire.
I was wrong.
With Shiloh, it wasn't that I needed his thick dick in my mouth. It was more like if I didn't soon, my animal would burst free and do just as he desired. I couldn't let that happen, but I didn't have to. Shiloh opened his legs in a quiet invitation I accepted.
I pulled his zipper down carefully, lifting his bottom high enough off the chair so I could slide his pants off. His boxers were soft, a cotton blend. There was nothing wrong with them, but I wanted to feel Shiloh in silk or satin. He'd astutely picked up on my fondness for varying textures. I wanted the clothes Shiloh wore to make him feel as cozy and cared for as I wanted to make him.
I rubbed my nose over his boxers along his stiff length. His short gasps were like music, but we were already dancing. His thighs cradled my top half, and his hands held my shoulders with a loose grip. I pressed my nose against his pelvis and inhaled. Twice more, I sucked in every delicious scent, every alluring note. If I was a conductor, Shiloh was my opus.
He jerked forward as his upper half stretched. I realized he'd thrown his head back when he let out a continuous moan that wavered as beautifully as any tenor.
"Your body calls to me, Shiloh."
"What does it say?" he asked.
"Touch me. Protect me. Taste me."
I reached down his boxers and gripped his penis. It was hot in my hand, not too big, but extremely hard. The tip was slick with his precum, and I stuck my tongue out to clean it off.
"Prof—Beckett!"
That he'd nearly called me Professor the moment I got my first taste of his dick shouldn't have turned me on as much as it did. I'd been wrong my entire life, believing I was steady and not easily tempted. I just hadn't encountered the right lure. There was nothing steady about this sexual desire that eclipsed every other want or need.
Shiloh's cock slid in and out of my mouth, my tongue darting out with each withdrawal to taste as much of him as I could. The young man wiggled in my grasp. If I hadn't been holding him, his butt now just perched on the edge of his seat, he likely would've fallen off. And I would've fallen right along with him. I wasn't about to stop now that I'd started.
"Beckett, your mouth feels so good. I'm—I'm worried I'm going to finish too soon!" he gasped, jerking his hips back in an attempt to escape my ministrations.
I cupped his compact balls, massaging them in my hand. "There isn't such a thing as too soon, Shiloh. Finish now. Then again later. And again and again. What you mustn't do is hold back."