Witches of London - Lars by Aleksandr Voinov

Author:Aleksandr Voinov [Voinov, Aleksandr]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 44 Raccoons
Published: 2016-08-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Lars stepped out of the shower, towel around his hips, and saw Rhys standing in the bedroom. He was still wearing the leather suit, though the top part was now undone and hung off his shoulders. Lars paused where he stood, stared at Rhys; his hair was tousled, probably from the helmet, but that grin, that grin went right through him.

Rhys stepped closer, then really close, and that grin never wavered. He placed the tip of his middle finger between Lars’ collarbones, right underneath the Thor’s hammer, then traced it down in a line, his gaze following his finger. When it hooked into Lars’ towel, he glanced up. “I really think you’re overdressed.”

Lars wasn’t sure, but he’d probably gasped. He lifted his hands away, and Rhys pulled on the towel and let it drop to the ground. Another long look from under heavy lids as Rhys regarded him. Lars was getting hard; he’d been waiting for this all day, and seeing Rhys like this—actually seductive, more in control than before, made his skin tingle deliciously.

Rhys’ fingers closed around his cock in a strong, possessive grip. He just held him, and Lars was growing fully hard in moments, enjoying the tension rippling through him, and, if he went by the way Rhys kept his gaze, through Rhys too.

“Help me get undressed.” It could have been a question, a request, maybe the most polite order Lars had ever received.

Lars’ hands went to the leather jacket, and he pushed it off Rhys’ shoulders, then down his arms. Armour plates sewn into the leather; and somehow that seemed very à propos. Lars kissed Rhys’ neck, felt him lean into the caress. Lars’ cock rubbed against the leather of Rhys’ trousers.

“You’ll have to let me go so I can take this off.”

“Shame.” Rhys briefly broke the contact to shed the jacket, and while they were at it, the T-shirt underneath. There was a hint of fresh sweat in Rhys’ scent, but mostly, the smell was male, with an echo of shower gel and shaving foam. And the smell from the leather. Once the shirt was off, Rhys reached for him again, though this time he took Lars’ balls in hand and squeezed them just so that Lars’ knees grew weak.

Rhys chuckled. “You’re in an interesting headspace there, aren’t you?”

“I…think.” Lars found it very hard to think just then.

“What’s going on inside that head of yours, Lars?”

“Just, I was looking forward to this all day.”

“So what were you imagining?”

“I can’t think. Like that.”

Rhys smiled and let him go, then placed a hand against Lars’ chest and pushed, gently, slowly. Lars took a step back towards the bed, then, when Rhys followed, he got onto the bed, shuffled up all the way until he was right in the middle of it.

Rhys shed his boots, socks, and the trousers and dropped them then and there. He then joined Lars on the bed, and kissed him. “I’m just saying, whatever you want me to do, whatever you’re into, we can do it.

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