Dash and Dingo (19 page)

Henry nodded but gaped as he yawned again. “I want to, but I can’t seem to keep my eyes open.”

Dingo nodded understandingly. “It’ll keep. We’ve got the whole night.”

Henry shivered at the thought of it. “I want to make love to you,” he said boldly.

“I want that too.”

In the end, they barely managed to make it to the bed, falling onto the mattress together, curling into each other, as if now that they were welcome to touch, they couldn’t bear not to. And then they were asleep.

Henry awoke to find himself wrapped in a warm, masculine embrace.

His few experiences had never ended like this, and he couldn’t quite

116 | Catt Ford and Sean Kennedy

remember where he was. But Dingo’s scent filled his nose, and he burrowed closer, wishing they had taken the time to undress. He wanted skin.

Moving gently, not wanting to wake Dingo until he’d had his sleep out, Henry managed to open his shirt, sliding his hand over the other man’s chest.

The light hair tickled his fingertips; so unlike his own smooth skin, while the solid muscle under his palm thrilled him, the fulfillment of inchoate desires that he never could have confided to anyone.

He felt the lift of Dingo’s chest into his hand and a rumble as the other man spoke. “Should we get undressed this time?”

Henry only realized he was shaking when he heard the tremor in his voice. “Yes, please.” He startled when he felt Dingo’s fingers on his shirt buttons. No one had ever expressed any interest in undressing him before, and while he didn’t know quite what to make of that, he was quite sure he wanted Dingo out of his clothing as quickly as possible.

But Dingo had other ideas, pressing warm lips against Henry’s skin as soon as he exposed a bit of it, making Henry’s stomach flutter with nervous excitement.

Boldly he rolled Dingo onto his back, sitting astride him, lowering himself to kiss him. He felt Dingo impatiently finish opening his shirt and push it off his shoulders, his hands lingering on his bare arms. As soon as his hands were free, Henry finished opening Dingo’s shirt and flung it open with a cry of triumph.

Dingo’s gasp echoed his own as Henry leaned closer for another kiss, and their bare chests brushed together for the first time. Henry could feel the strong thud of Dingo’s heart against his own and felt the victory of another man’s answering desire for him.

“Shoes,” Dingo muttered.

Had they really gone to bed with their shoes on? Apparently they had.

Dingo pushed off him gently and went to work ridding them both of their shoes and socks. Trousers still open, Dingo pushed his down while Henry did the same, sudden urgency robbing him of the desire for the slow exploration of the other man’s body.

They rolled toward each other, coming together with a crash. Dingo’s leg was between his, and Henry humped against it, desperate for friction even with the overload of all his senses. He had never been naked and pressed up against another completely naked person before, and the sensation almost overwhelmed him, but his overriding desire was to be inside the other man, to

Dash and Dingo: In Search of the Tasmanian Tiger | 117

penetrate the mysteries of the beloved and as yet entirely unknown body that writhed beneath him.

“What do I do?” Henry gasped.

Dingo stretched and twisted under him, making him thrill again to the masculine strength of the body so like and yet so unlike his. Henry was filled with a sudden confidence that he would be able to satisfy Dingo, for after all, it was like holding up a mirror. He had explored his own body; he knew of certain secret pleasures that he had never shared with another, and now he burned to give that pleasure to Dingo.

The way the other man spread his legs, making room for Henry between his thighs made him feel that Dingo was as eager for this as he was.

He jumped and moaned as Dingo’s slick fingers found his shaft and slid over his flesh, spreading the necessary lubrication on him.

“Can I—”

In answer, Dingo pressed the small metal tube into his hand; trembling a bit, Henry squeezed some of the lubricant onto his fingers, searching hesitantly between Dingo’s legs, finding the root of his hard cock. He bent to lick at the head, tasting the salty bitter droplets at the tip, sliding his fingers over the rigid proof of Dingo’s equal desire for him. He nuzzled at Dingo’s balls, taking the low moans and sudden jerks of Dingo’s hips as his due, although he knew he must be sadly lacking in experience. The musky scent of the other man nearly drove him wild.

His finger slid lower still, finding the dark valley he sought. One of Dingo’s hands left his body, and Henry felt him spread his cheeks, offering himself, almost like in the dream.

Henry froze, uncertain of what to do, almost relieved when he felt Dingo’s hands pull him up for a kiss.

“There’s no hurry,” Dingo murmured against his throat.

Henry moaned as he was rolled onto his back, lying pliant as Dingo started to kiss his way down his body. While he would have driven immediately into Dingo’s body if he could, Dingo seemed to have all the time in the world.

And then Henry’s brain shut down, and he could only feel as Dingo’s mouth, hot and ardent, closed around one of his nipples and sucked. Never had he felt anything like that. He had never even touched himself there when he pleasured himself, unaware of all the nerve endings that came alive, making him thrash helplessly under the other man’s assault.

118 | Catt Ford and Sean Kennedy

It seemed that no matter where Dingo touched him, he set off a river of fire under his skin, one that roared down his spine and through his groin, making him achingly hard. By this time he was too lost in sensation to take control. Henry had never felt such unabashed desire, and he had no shame for the tiny cries of pleasure that Dingo managed to wring from him as he kissed his way to his groin.

The sweep of the tongue running along the furrow of his loins made Henry’s hips leap into the air as he arched off the bed, feeling Dingo’s hands upon him, moving his body where he wanted it. His own cries echoed loudly in his ears as Dingo’s mouth captured his cock, enclosing him in wet heat.

Henry no longer had words; he had ceased to think altogether as his essence spurted from him and his body convulsed in sinful rapture.

He lay shaking and limp as he heard a low triumphant laugh from the region of his groin.

“Ever had that before, Dash?”

Henry shook his head before he remembered that Dingo couldn’t see him in the dim light, situated where he was. “Not like that,” he said in a thread of a voice.

“Have you ever had a man take you?”

Henry felt the heat of his flush suffuse his body, grateful that at least Dingo couldn’t see
that.
“Never.”

“I’d like to be the first,” Dingo murmured. “I’d like to show you how good it can be.”

“Yes….” Henry breathed.

A sudden click and the light by the bed was turned on, hurting his eyes.

Henry squinted at Dingo and laughed to see him squinting as well. And then he wasn’t laughing when he saw the expression Dingo wore.

“I want to see your face,” Dingo said.

He pushed Henry’s legs back toward his chest, and Henry had never felt so exposed to anyone—and yet at the same time, so safe. The look on Dingo’s face moved him. He knew now that he was not simply another man for Dingo to chalk up on his trophy stick. This meant something to Dingo, and knowing that made it all the more meaningful to Henry.

Fingers sliding in his cleft made his hips jerk when they found his entrance, but Dingo didn’t push inside.

Dash and Dingo: In Search of the Tasmanian Tiger | 119

“I have to open you up to take me,” Dingo said in a low voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Henry nodded, holding onto his thighs to keep himself open. The feeling of Dingo’s fingers massaging the sensitive skin of his opening made him aware of how intimate an act they were sharing already. He couldn’t take his gaze off Dingo’s, and they stared at each other until Henry closed his eyes and groaned at the feeling of being breached, of having some part of another man within him at last.

And yet it hurt. The burning stretch made him conscious again of the burn on his wrist, but he pushed the thought away. He didn’t like to think that Hodges had branded him first with pain when the welcome burn of Dingo entering him was yet to come.
This
would be the real claiming.

“No one can have you unless you give yourself to them,” Henry

muttered, forcing himself to relax around Dingo’s finger.

“And are you? Are you giving yourself to me?”

Henry opened his eyes, feeling unexpectedly tender over the pained anxiety in Dingo’s voice. “Yes.”

He moaned as Dingo withdrew his finger, missing the fullness until two were pushed inside. Dingo worked his fingers in the tight channel gently, twisting them to find the hardness on the anterior wall, sending a ripple of unknown pleasure through Henry.

“My God,” Henry muttered.

Dingo smiled, working his fingers until they slid in and out more easily.

“Are you sure—do you want—”

“Yes!” Henry almost shouted, and then he lowered his voice. “Yes, take me.”

Dingo pulled his fingers out slowly and positioned himself between Henry’s thighs, lining his cock up with one hand, his weight resting on the other.

Henry felt the blunt hardness pushing at his entrance, and he felt afraid.

Dingo felt so big, and he wondered how much it was going to hurt, but he wanted this badly. “Please,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Dingo agreed. He watched Henry’s face carefully as he pressed inside, knowing the head would be the worst part.

120 | Catt Ford and Sean Kennedy

Henry lifted his hips, trying to hasten the penetration, and cried out in surprise as Dingo surged inside. His muscles worked frantically around the intruder; Dingo’s cock felt so unyielding and hard. It burned.

“Take it easy. Relax for me, if you can.” Dingo kissed Henry’s temple, holding himself scrupulously still until he felt the ripple of muscles adjusting to him, welcoming him. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Go on. I want it all,” Henry gasped.

Dingo rocked his hips gently, pressing forward in slow increments until he could feel Henry relax around him and his hips were flush with Henry’s arse. “You’ve taken me all now.”

Henry couldn’t speak. Sweat slid into his hairline as he felt the hardness of Dingo’s manhood inside him. But it wasn’t painful anymore. It was the rarest of pleasures.

Dingo started to move. Somehow Henry could tell how much Dingo wanted to please him; he was being very gentle, looking down at him with a tender, anxious expression. To reassure him, Henry raised his hips to meet each slow thrust, and Dingo fell into the rhythm intuitively known from the beginning of all time.

Henry thrilled to the feeling of Dingo moving inside him. His own cock was hard again and bouncing against his belly with every thrust as Dingo pushed into him. Physically it was the single most profound act Henry had ever shared with another person, but emotionally it just felt so right to have their bodies joined as one.

“Stroke yourself for me,” Dingo ordered.

Henry reached for his cock, still slick with the lube that Dingo had applied, not regretting for an instant that it had turned out this way. The way it felt when Dingo brushed against that spot deep inside him was incredible. In all his imaginings, he had never dreamed it could feel like this.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, and Henry arched up frantically under Dingo, wrapping his legs around the other man as if trying to draw him in deeper and closer.

He looked up, watching as Dingo’s face contorted in ecstasy, and felt him thrust deeper, pushing hard inside him until Henry felt the sudden rush of hot liquid. Dingo froze in place for a long moment before he lowered himself onto Henry’s quiescent body, gasping and sweating.

Dash and Dingo: In Search of the Tasmanian Tiger | 121

Henry wrapped his arms around Dingo, kissing his shoulder as the only spot he could reach, wondering if this was to be their only night. Perhaps Dingo had used that animal magnetism on
him,
to get what he wanted—

“Next time it’s your turn,” Dingo panted. He turned his face to kiss Henry.

Henry could have kicked himself, but he couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “So this wasn’t just a one-time thing?”

Dingo laughed wearily, and his voice was hoarse as he said, “I can’t get enough of you, Dash. You’re… intoxicating.”

Henry smiled against Dingo’s shoulder. “I hope not like that foul stuff you made me drink in Bangkok.”

“No hangover, but a craving for more, yes,” Dingo said as Henry felt him slip out of the haven of his body. “Let’s get some rest. You’re going to need it.”

“Why am I going to need it particularly?” Henry asked on a yawn.

“If you’re going to satisfy my unnatural lusts, you’ll have to be well rested.”

Dingo’s voice sounded very far away, and Henry wondered just how tired he was. He wrapped his arms around the other man and snuggled closer, their legs falling naturally between each other, groins pressed together.

Dingo stirred and found Henry’s mouth against his nipple.

“Dash,” he groaned. “You’re insatiable.”

The darkness and the naked intimacy with Dingo gave Henry a bravery and a vulnerability he had never been able to expose of himself before. “I’ve never had it like this before, Dingo.”

Dingo’s hand strayed upward to stroke Henry’s hair gently. “What way?”

“Well, the obvious,” Henry admitted. “But before, it never got to this stage. Where we lay together afterwards, where I could wake up with the other person.”

“It was always wham bam, now piss off?”

122 | Catt Ford and Sean Kennedy

Henry turned his attention to the other nipple, and Dingo groaned again.

Henry lifted his head, absorbed in the way the nipple had hardened beneath his tongue, becoming a stiff peak begging to be tasted again. This time he used his teeth gently and felt Dingo’s cock jab against his hip insistently. He wondered if there was a nerve that ran directly between the cock and the nipple, for Dingo certainly seemed to like it when he touched him there.