Finding Eden (9 page)

“Are you hard?” Danny asked curiously. “Does being scared get you off?”

Paul nodded, lifting his eyes to Danny hesitantly. “Very much.”

“Come on.” Danny tilted his head toward the house. He didn’t feel like standing outside anymore. He wanted Paul inside his house, naked, sweaty, begging him for what he had to offer, but all he said was, “You can crash here tonight.”

Either Paul didn’t notice Danny’s offer was dangerous, casual in his attempt to lure Paul into his lair to seduce him, or he just didn’t care as he sighed in a soft, breathy voice, “Okay.”

* * * * *

Danny was aware of how incomplete his house was, how barren of life. The stark walls. The floor that was nonexistent through much of the house. Paul hung out there more than at his dorm, and before now it had never bothered him to have Paul seeing the ugly part of his soul that refused to fix this house just because it’d be doing what he was told.

He knew Paul didn’t care, probably liked it dirty and gritty, lacking any sort of softness and romance, but it bothered Danny. He wanted the beauty, the soft bed, the flickers of candlelight against beautiful, tan skin instead of the harsh florescent light of his bathroom. If it wasn’t quite so bright, the blood wouldn’t be so vibrantly red against the broken tiles in his shower, marrying with the steaming water and blending to pink as it swirled down the drain.

With such ugliness surrounding him, it was little wonder Danny gravitated to Paul like a moth to a flame. He wrapped his arm around him from behind, pulling his broad, muscular body tightly against his, uncaring about the wounds on his back caused by a vicious woman who didn’t understand the beauty she was destroying by cutting into Paul like she did.

Danny buried his face into the curve of his neck, lapping at the salty taste of adrenaline that was bleeding from Paul’s pores. He felt drunk from just that taste, dizzy with desire as the steam billowed up around them, blurring the edges of reality to the point Danny didn’t care about the ugliness or the blood or anything but Paul. He became addicted to the feel of Paul’s slick skin under his fingers as he trailed his hands over the lines of his abdominal muscles. Danny bit him hard, marking him on purpose, staking a primal claim of ownership he never wanted to give up.

Paul moaned, his back arching, his head falling against Danny’s shoulder. He reached over, his large palm spreading over Danny’s, holding his hand against his stomach. There was something so very intimate about the touch and Danny needed it desperately.

“Do I have to hurt you?”

“Nope. All you gotta do is aftercare.”

“What’s that?” Danny asked, whispering the words into Paul’s wet hair as he breathed him in.

“Take care of me,” Paul sighed in a completely open and trusting voice. “Hold me, touch me, fuck me… You get it.”

“Yeah,” Danny rasped, sucker-punched by the lust that crashed over him when he realized this was really happening. “I can do that.”

Instead of hating that bitch who hurt the man he loved, Danny found himself wanting to kiss her feet for gifting him with this moment as he turned Paul around. He looked into eyes that were clouded with desire, stormy in hue due to the pain that had left them dilated and exposed.

Paul’s moan was muffled against Danny’s lips when he leaned down and kissed him, caressing his cheek, feeling the first signs of stubble under his thumb. Then he was falling, his mind shutting down from the pleasure of Paul’s feverish response. It went from sweet to desperate, from one raspy breath to the next. Paul’s fingers tangled in Danny’s hair while he stood on his toes, bringing their cocks into contact. Danny’s knees jerked in response, his hand sliding to Paul’s gorgeous ass to pull him tighter against him.

This wasn’t going to last very long, not with them dry fucking each other, the hot water making the slide of cock against cock slick and decadent. Shimmers of pleasure danced over his skin as low moans of desperation Danny barely recognized as his own burst out of him.

Unwilling to wait another moment, he fisted a hand tightly in Paul’s hair, forcing him to his knees, being vicious and impatient in his desperation. “Suck me.”

Blinking against the spray, Danny saw Paul’s eyes grow wide and glassy. He glanced up at Danny, appearing stunned by how quickly he had ended up kneeling in servitude. Then he licked lips that were parted in stunned awe and looked back to Danny’s cock. Danny thrust his hips forward, fisting his hair tighter when he realized it was raw, unrestrained lust that was making Paul waver where he knelt in front of him.

Wanting to fuel the fire of Paul’s passions, Danny demanded in a dark voice, “Open your mouth and suck it. I wanna feel it and you’re gonna give it to me.”

Paul’s eyes rolled back as he took a sharp gasp and leaned closer. He wrapped one strong arm around Danny’s back as he took his cock in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the tip. Danny’s eyes drifted closed from the warmth of it, loving the seductive pleasure of gentle exploration.

Knowing Paul had never sucked cock, he didn’t mind the teasing that came from a lover trying to become accustomed to the invasion, testing the weight of a large cock between his lips. He was getting into it when Paul shocked him by pulling him closer with a hard jerk of his forearm. Danny gasped, his entire body becoming languid, his vise grip on Paul’s hair becoming a lifeline as the tidal wave of pleasure crashed over him.

“Fuck!” Danny’s other arm flew against the tiles, his fingers clawing for leverage to keep him from falling to his knees. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he chanted, trying to find a way to make it last a little longer.

He’d just never had anyone blow him like that, sucking hard and fast, taking him deep, over and over. He’d always been too big for that. If he’d known this was one of the fringe benefits of mouth-fucking a masochist, he would have been looking for blowjobs at Arty’s parties a lot sooner. The fact it was Paul giving him the best blowjob of his life shattered Danny’s control completely.

With a harsh thrust of his hips and a twist of Paul’s wet hair, forcing his cock deeper into his hot mouth, he came violently.

The pleasure was a burst of white-hot fire that raced through his bloodstream to the pulse of his heartbeat that was thrashing the hell out of his ribs. The flood of it was so all-encompassing, a red cloud tinged his vision. He slid down the tiles weakly when Paul released him because staying on his feet was impossible.

“Did I do it right? I wanna do it right,” Paul whispered, his voice lower than Danny had ever heard it. “Tell me what you like and I’ll—”

Too breathless to speak, he cut Paul off by cupping his face in both hands and tugging him forward. He claimed his lips, kissing him with every ounce of longing he’d harbored since he was old enough to understand what desire was. Finding an addiction he knew there was no cure for, Danny drowned himself in Paul, in the taste of his cum on his tongue and the feel of his body, all hard angles and slick skin pressed against his. Lost in the aftermath of his orgasm, his movements were lazy. His touch became tinged with worship as he tried to memorize every nuance of Paul’s skin under his fingers, the way his muscles shifted, the goose bumps that danced over his arms in perfect synchronicity to the low groans that rumbled from the center of his chest.

It wasn’t until he reached down to stroke Paul, wanting to savor the feeling of that thick, hard cock against his palm, that Danny pulled away. He frowned down at the cock in his hand. Then he lifted his gaze curiously.

Paul’s cheeks colored and he looked away rather than meet his eyes as he whispered, “I came too.”

Danny sucked in a sharp breath, staring at Paul in shock. He would have thought it was impossible for him to get hard that quickly after such a mind-blowing orgasm, but he was wrong. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

Paul’s laugh was muffled against Danny’s lips as he kissed him harshly, biting at his bottom lip. When Paul opened to him, Danny’s tongue forced entrance, drinking in the taste of sex and Paul once more.

Paul was hesitant for only a second before he touched back. His hands ran over Danny’s back and through his hair, his tongue finally venturing into his mouth. There was a wild desperation to get closer, as if the floodgates had opened and Paul was as weak to the stunning hunger as Danny.

He was heedless of the tile leaving deep, painful impressions in his knees because Danny found heaven on the floor of that shower. He could have kneeled there with his best friend forever, loving a man who usually flinched away from even the most casual of kind touches.

How could Danny have thought anything about this was less than fiercely beautiful?

It was finally Paul who broke the seductive trance to turn around, falling to his hands and knees, blinding Danny with a fresh wave of ravenous hunger. The blowjob forgotten, all gentleness was obliterated when Danny saw the opportunity to actually fuck Paul. This was what he really craved, making Paul his in a way no one else, not even Eve, could. It didn’t enter his mind that Paul may need something a bit gentler than the harshness of being fucked on his hands and knees beneath a shower spray that was going from scalding to lukewarm.

They both gasped when Danny draped himself over Paul’s strong back, licking at the nape of his neck. Paul’s head hung low in a show of submissiveness that made lust claw at Danny’s insides, blocking out all thought but having him. Danny’s wild desire was mirrored by Paul’s, whose cock was as rock hard as his, making him wish the two of them could be young forever.

He never fucked without a condom that always had a little lube to pave the way in emergencies like this, but the two of them were industrious in their franticness. Paul grabbed a bottle of conditioner from the corner of the shower and handed it to him.

Fighting for clarity, Danny whispered, “This’ll burn like a motherfucker.”

“Awesome,” Paul panted, leaning low, resting his forehead on his folded arms as his entire body shook in anticipation. “Hurt me, Danny Boy. I feel like I’m going fucking crazy. Own me, hurt me, fuck me. Please!”

That worked for Danny. He sliced the pad of his thump on the cap of the conditioner bottle in his desperation to get it open. Barely noticing, he poured it into his hand, knowing from that moment forward the scent of cheap coconut conditioner was going to smell like sex to him. Danny’s head rolled back as he stroked himself several times before the siren call of Paul had him falling forward. His brain was scorched with the memory of Paul’s back cut up and bleeding, rivers of crimson rolling down his sides as Danny gripped his shoulder and guided himself into him.

That first hot feel of Paul as his cock slid past the ring of muscle had Danny groaning out loud. It was everything he had ever wanted, every guilty fantasy since he first started jerking off. Now it was right here kneeling in front of him. Danny pulled up to watch his cock sliding in, seeing Paul’s ass stretch to accommodate the girth of it. The image was magnificent and it made him desperate to see Paul take all of him. His hips thrust forward, his grip on Paul’s shoulder tightening as he became greedy, jerking Paul to him in a hard, primitive display of desire.

“Holy shit!” Paul gasped, his entire body tensing when Danny took him with one unforgiving thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

“I’m sorry,” Danny choked, panicking when a sliver of clarity found its way through the raging pleasure. Danny was practically dry fucking him without preparation. Paul had never been with a man before, and Danny knew he was supposed to go slow, to make the pleasure burn for a long time before they got to this part. The fucking should have been gentle to block the shock of being invaded so intimately. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Paul growled, his voice low and hoarse with pleasure, easily dragging Danny down to a dark place with him. “Fuck me, do it hard, make it hurt. Please.”

If he hadn’t been out of his mind, Danny might have been insulted Paul was enjoying the pain of being brutally fucked rather than the connection of the two of them coming together for the first time. As it was, Danny gathered enough of his senses to have a little finesse. He used his grip on Paul’s shoulder to pull him back once more, moving his hips slowly this time, searching for the right angle to hit his sweet spot. He knew when he hit it, feeling the electric pulse of pleasure sweep through Paul’s body.

“Fuck.” Paul groaned, shock tangling with the gravelly lust in his voice. “What the—” His body jerked violently when Danny slid into him again, hitting his prostate a second time. “Christ, Danny Boy, that feels fucking good.”

“Yeah, that’s the point, sweetheart,” Danny purred, leaning over him to lick his neck once more. “I want you to come again without touching yourself. Only the feel of my cock’s gonna get you off.”

“No problem,” Paul said with another low groan of pleasure. “Anything you want. I’ll do anything you want.”

Youth may have made their recovery time impressive, but their staying power left something to be desired when they were fucking like they were, hard and animalistic, with love and friendship blurring the lines of pleasure and pain.

Paul begged for it harder.

Danny gave it to him.

Low groans and the slap of skin against skin sounded over the thrum of water hitting tile. As the pleasure built, raging into something that humbled both of them, it made them more frenzied and desperate for release. When Paul tensed, Danny followed him into a black oblivion as if they were designed to be partners. They came with shouts of ecstasy, neither of them quiet or reserved. The pleasure was too all-consuming to even attempt a dignified climax.

The crash was hard, jerking Danny from a fantastically euphoric thrill of bliss to the cold reality of icy water beating against his back and tiles carving their impressions so deeply into his knees he wouldn’t be surprised if they were bleeding.

“Am I heavy?” Danny whispered softly, stroking the soft hairs on the nape of Paul’s neck as he lay sprawled over him, forcing Paul to bear most of his weight. “I can get off.”

“Can you?” Paul chuckled, his breath still raspy.