Down and Dirty by Rhys Ford

Author:Rhys Ford [Ford, Rhys]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2014-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

SINKING INTO Ichi’s tight, velvety heat was an exercise in patience.

There was no question the man’d gotten under Bobby’s skin. Hell, if he could live the rest of his days with Ichiro wrapped around his dick, Bobby would die a happy man.

He’d even be willing to try having Ichi press into him.

The thought of a man other than—Bobby shook his head. The past needed to remain in the shadows, where it could lurk to its heart’s content and not smear its ugly oiliness over the pleasure he’d pulled out of Ichi’s body.

God, when was the last time he’d mourned the man he’d loved enough to break his life apart for? Bobby couldn’t remember—hell, he wasn’t even sure he felt any anguish over what Mark’d done to him after he’d broken his marriage and ruined his family.

He was freer for it—Bobby reminded himself as he drank in the sight and feel of Ichiro’s young, primed body. Loving a man—this man—felt right. More than right. More than good. Running his hands over every inch of Ichi’s body, Bobby wondered what kept him from having Ichiro. Fear of Cole finding out or—something darker and deeper welling up inside of him—a fear of wanting more than Ichiro could give.

Or just fear of wanting Ichiro to stay and rediscovering the pain of not being enough for a man to want in return.

He had to go slowly. Ichi was tight, nearly painfully tight, and no amount of stretching seemed to help. If anything, it drove Ichi into a frenzy, and he clamped down on Bobby, bucking and twisting to get more.

Every skimming touch along Ichi’s skin brought out a growling sound or a slithering purr with Ichi writhing beneath him, begging for—no, demanding—more. Bobby intended to give him more. Give him as much as he could take and maybe even beyond that. The skin at the base of his cock tightened when he thought of how Ichiro’s hole would kiss it, suckling at his cock’s root until they both lost themselves in the fucking they’d danced around in the months since they’d first met.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, tightening his hold on Ichi’s hips. “I just need to hear you scream.”

Ichiro was damned gorgeous. Spread out over Bobby’s bed, he was a sprawl of ivory skin inked to hell and gone with demons, birds, and swirls of color. Stories lay in his skin. A dip of a scar across his shoulder ran white through his faint golden tan. Ichi’s dark eyes gleamed, catching a lamp’s glow as he turned, mink studded with amber flecks, as if their depths hid slivers of a harvest moon. The faint light reflected off a dab of sweat on Ichiro’s jaw, tracing its trail in silver when the drop grew heavy and surrendered itself to the curve of Ichi’s throat.

They both shone with the wet of their efforts, muscles gleaming under a soft sheen as Bobby worked in and out of Ichiro’s grip. His balls slapped and tickled Ichi’s cleft, his cock growing slick with oil with each pound against Ichiro’s hole.

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