Watcher: A MM Romeo and Juliet Retelling (Star-Crossed Celestials Book 1) by A.L. Morrow

Watcher: A MM Romeo and Juliet Retelling (Star-Crossed Celestials Book 1) by A.L. Morrow

Author:A.L. Morrow [Morrow, A.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734505825
Publisher: SourGirl Books
Published: 2022-07-19T16:00:00+00:00


13

JACE

Like the rest of the suite, Cyrus’s bedroom was light and airy, crisp white, and modern. The snowy comforter was practically a fucking cloud, Jace thought as he lowered himself to sit down on the edge of the bed. And in just a few moments, he and Cyrus would make the mattress their own personal heaven.

Unzipping his jeans, Jace slipped his fingers inside the fabric of his boxer-briefs and gave himself a slow, steady stroke as he watched Cyrus cross toward him. The Messenger lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor before running his hands up Jace’s chest and disposing of his the same way.

Then he was on Jace, pushing him back against the mattress and nudging his knees apart to make way for himself between his thighs. Jace’s cock throbbed, his whole body on notice. Deciding he’d rather touch Cyrus than himself, he abandoned his shaft in favor of grasping the Messenger’s hips.

“It’s always the innocent-looking ones,” he teased as Cyrus hovered above him. He moved a hand to the Messenger’s ass, giving each cheek a squeeze before slipping his hand into the back of his jeans. His fingertips grazed along the crevice between those firm, curved globes.

Cyrus paused, blinking, and let out a stunned chuckle. “I’m innocent, you mean?”

Jace nodded. “Looking being the operative word. You left that part out.”

The Messenger let out another half-laugh and leaned forward to kiss him. “And what is it that makes me seem so innocent?” he asked against Jace’s neck as he ran his lips and tongue along the stubble-speckled column.

“You don’t swear much.”

Cyrus gave a small shrug, then began kissing his way down Jace’s chest. “I can’t help that I grew up in Themis, without the range of colorful language the humans created.” He hesitated near Jace’s navel and looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Do you want me to swear more? Talk dirty, maybe? Would that get you hard?”

Jace shook his head and grinned. “I want you to be yourself. That’s what gets me hard.”

Standing again, Cyrus gave Jace’s jeans a firm tug, pulling them and his boxer-briefs free from his body in a single, swift motion. The Messenger eyed Jace’s erection, thick and flushed, as it sprang up against his abs. He licked his lips with want as he palmed over his own cock.

“I see what you mean,” he said. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

For a moment, Jace propped himself up on his elbows, eagerly watching as Cyrus let his own pants drop to the floor. He scooted backward on the bed then to make more room for them both. Immediately, Cyrus was on him again, covering his body with his own: hands and knees, touches and kisses, hair falling over both their foreheads.

“What else?” he asked.

Jace’s hips bucked up, straining for the friction of their bodies pressed together, cocks wedged between them. “Your freckles,” he breathed, barely able to get the words out between kisses.

“I can hardly help those, either, I’m afraid.



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