Because of The Brave - lanyon Josh - Страница 18

“I’ve got it.” Robin crawled to Peter’s feet and undid the laces, pulling each boot and sock off and then tugging on his trousers. Peter unbuckled his belt and unfastened them and soon Robin was sliding them down his legs while he pulled his T-shirt off over his head. Robin was shucking his clothes and it was only moments before he sat before Peter magnificently naked.

“You’re beautiful,” Peter whispered, not taking his eyes off of Robin’s even though he wanted very badly to look at everything at once. He put his hand on Robin’s chest and scraped a nail carefully over a dark nipple.

Robin sucked in a breath and his body responded by tightening as his eyes half closed. He cupped Peter’s cock through his shorts. “You have what I need soldier man?” He placed a kiss on Peter’s lips then, leaving them there for a breath, and Peter felt its tenderness to his toes. “You have what I want?”

“I hope so.” From the rough way they’d tumbled through the door to the sweetness of that kiss Peter knew he was deep into something he didn’t entirely understand. But he wanted more. “How do you want me?” he asked on a hoarse whisper.

Robin’s expression said he liked the question, but that he wasn’t exactly ready to answer it. He rocked his hips suggestively against Peter’s. “I want to see you,” Robin told him. “Us.”

Peter’s grin faded. His mother’s bedroom had full-length mirrored closet doors, and it wasn’t like it would be the first time he’d ever gotten busy in there. But with his mother’s tenuous health, somehow it seemed wrong to him, and he gave the thought a mental shake.

“Bathroom?” he asked. Robin probably knew the house better than he did anymore. He’d know the bedroom was perfect, yet maybe he’d understand why Peter couldn’t go there. “If that’s—”

“Perfect,” Robin stood and helped him up, slipping his hands from Peter’s waist down beneath the fabric of his underwear and sweeping it down to the ground. Peter stepped out of it naked and shy. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he followed Robin into the bathroom. “Let me look at you?”

Peter nodded and Robin turned him toward the mirror. Robin stood behind him, the light from the hall all they had until he switched on the little nightlight that his mother kept in the room so she could find her way in the dark. In that half light Peter’s creamy skin-so much lighter than Robin’s-shone and Robin’s form disappeared behind him. Robin slid his hands around Peter’s ribcage and moved them slowly down and up his abs to his chest, creating dark swaths across the light skin. They looked like a candlelit black and white photograph.

Robin’s lips caressed the skin just below his ear. It made Peter shiver, but he said nothing, content to remain quiet. The thing he liked best about Robin was the stillness he could maintain even in a conversation. Robin listened to silence as well as words.

Robin’s elegant hands smoothed over Peter’s back and shoulders, gently pushing him down, bending him at the waist until he rested on his forearms over the marble countertop. His hands moved down over Peter’s skin, then his mouth, marking a cool, wet path. He kneeled without a word and his tongue began to dance along the curve of Peter’s ass. It dipped into the dimples on either side of his spine and—at last—played in the dark cleft between Peter’s ass cheeks. Robin’s

soft breath cooled the kisses he left on Peter’s skin. His hands kneaded the muscles beneath the flesh that he tasted and bit with his teeth.

Peter melted into those caring hands, giving in, pressing toward the pleasure that Robin kept just out of reach. His dick tightened and bobbed and dripped with each sensation, until at last Robin breached his hole and tongue fucked him, making Peter’s knees grow weak and shaky.

“Shit Robin, I—”

Robin’s hand, slick with spit, found Peter’s hole and he slipped a finger inside, giving Peter something to push back against. Peter gasped in a breath and shuddered when Robin brushed a knuckle across his prostate.

“You come apart in my hands,” Robin remarked into the skin on Peter’s back. He cupped Peter’s cock with his free hand. “I knew you would be like that. That I could play with you and make you beg for me.”

“Oh… oh…” Peter pressed his cheek against the cold tile and just rode the feeling of Robin’s hands stroking him from the inside and the outside. “Uhn.” His hands gripped the edge of the marble where it hung over the cabinet, the cool felt erotic and slightly painful against his skin, but Robin was warmth and breath and life. Even love—maybe from the way Robin touched him—and he gave himself completely into Robin’s hands.

A drawer opened behind him and cold lube dripped down the crack of his ass. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Robin open a condom packet with his teeth, one hand rolling it onto his cock while the other stroked slickly in and out of Peter’s ass.

“Talk for me,” Robin said tightly as he put his hand on Peter’s shoulder to hold him in place. “Tell me what you want.” Robin nudged at his entrance and Peter reached back to pull him forward.

“I want to know why my mom has lube and condoms in the bathroom—”

Robin laughed. “No you don’t.”

“Shit,” Peter turned to look at Robin.

“They’re mine, you idiot, I lived here too.”

“But—”

“Can this wait?” Robin’s brown eyes hid his annoyance.

“Go,” Peter said, but the word caught in his throat when he felt the first push of Robin’s cock and no sound came out.

He turned his head and watched in the mirror as Robin’s face changed. Soft hands smoothed over Peter’s back. From where he rested, Peter could see every nuance of emotion as it came over his lover’s face. He could read the hunger there, the need, and the satisfaction that joining their bodies brought him. He watched as Robin’s hips snapped, hard and fast, saw when he closed his eyes and tilted his head back and fucked him savagely because he lost himself in the act.

Robin’s hips undulated as Peter pressed back, wishing he could tell Robin how good it felt. That this was everything he could want. He wished the man being fucked in the mirror could speak for him, that he didn’t look so fucking surprised, so stupid lying there, taking it and not giving back. Peter pushed his hand between them to signal he needed a time out and lifted his eyes to Robin’s in the mirror. He found tenderness there, as well as concern. Robin leaned over far enough to kiss him on the mouth, gently at first but with all the passion he’d shared earlier, all the sweetness that Peter usually didn’t find in another man’s casual embrace. It was that very thing that made Peter’s freeze up.

Robin gently pulled out and lifted Peter into his arms, cupping his buttocks and parting his ass cheeks even as he pressed Peter into the wall, joining their bodies again and continuing their rhythm standing up. Robin pressed his lips to Peter’s and murmured nonsense and soft words until he was gasping for breath. Peter climaxed from the pressure between their bodies and even as he lost control he wanted to cling to Robin and rock with him for a while.

Robin’s hips snapped when the first splash of cum hit his skin. He growled and pinned Peter so hard his back scraped against wood trim and he knew there’d be bruising.

Peter ran his hands over Robin’s high sharp cheekbones, cupping them and framing his face as he pressed his cheek against the stubble on Robin’s neck. Robin pulled out, his grip on the condom. His softening cock slapped against Peter’s thigh. They stood like that long after their breathing settled back to normal.

Since Robin couldn’t be described as uncharacteristically silent the ride back to Hopewald House went well. Peter glanced over at his profile a couple of times, wondering what he was thinking. He tapped the steering wheel in time to the music on the radio with the hand that wasn’t busy holding a cigarette and realized that he’d well and truly taken up the habit again.