Brooklyn Sinners 3 -A Sinner Born (12 page)

Syren swallowed. “O-okay.” He already hovered on the verge of combustion, would he survive the slow and steady? He lifted his hand and traced a finger over Kane’s bottom lip. “Thank you.” His own lip trembled so he caught it between his teeth. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For this.” Syren nodded between them. “For giving me a chance. For making me feel wanted.”
Kane blushed. “I think I should thank you,” he said. “For making me feel again. For making me want again.”
Syren smiled up at him. “I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to help me build some memories?”
A wide grin split Kane’s face. “I’d be honored.” Syren’s stomach rumbled and he laughed. “Let’s get you fed then we can start on those memories.”
Syren didn’t bother getting dressed. They both stayed in the kitchen, leaning over the counter eating the meal Kane prepared. A meal Syren was sure tasted delicious but he couldn’t vouch for it. His mind wasn’t on what they did then but what they’d be doing soon. Kane tried engaging him in trivial conversation, but Syren couldn’t concentrate.
His heart remained lodged somewhere between his throat and windpipe. Taking a solid breath was a chore. If asked he had no clue as to what he felt.
Fear. Anticipation. Dread.
Mostly fear and anticipation, but he crossed his fingers around the iced tea Kane served him to be on the safe side. He’d tried having sex once. He ended up a sniveling mess underneath a stranger’s bed, convinced the man was intent on taking him by force.
How did he control himself with Kane? How did he make sure nothing like that happened now, that his demons didn’t rain on his happy fucking parade once again? He didn’t sit and dwell on his past and he didn’t talk about it. He’d locked those memories up, but he’d been the one to set them free. To be true to Kane. Now he’d be the one to blame if they destroyed any chance at moving beyond the kissing and heated touches.
He loved those kisses.
Syren stared at Kane’s mouth over the rim of his glass. He loved Kane’s taste and his expert tongue that knew where to lick and suck, but he wanted more. He wanted all. He’d waited for so long for this moment. A moment he’d been convinced would never ever come. Not for someone like him. Not for someone so irrevocably destroyed.
He had a chance now. A shot. If he could keep the darkness at bay.
He inhaled at the thought.
“Hey.”
He looked up. Kane stood next to him, banked heat in his blue gaze.
“Come.”
Syren stared at the outstretched hand Kane offered. The significance of taking his hand, of following where Kane led, weighed heavily on his chest, on his heart. An image flashed in his mind, of him staring at a picture of Kane and his brother. A long time ago, but he remembered stroking Kane’s face with the barest tips of his finger, wishing he could do that in real life.
Knowing he couldn’t. Yet there he sat now.
Life was funny that way. Laughably funny and funny strange that the darkness he’d been gifted with at age ten would bring him to this point, to this happiness, to this man.
He slid his hand in Kane’s and straightened. The fires in Kane’s gaze burned brighter, hotter. He circled Syren’s wrist, enough pressure to tug him along as he walked through the kitchen, but not too much to keep him from breaking away if he wanted. Syren walked with him through the house, past the living room with the pictures of a life Kane no longer had and the weird chair that didn’t fit with the rest.
Sweat trickled down Syren’s naked back and dipped into his crack. Anticipation and fear, all twisted up in each other, tingled his skin and hollowed his stomach. He climbed the stairs behind Kane, barely noticing the classily decorated space as they went. Finally they reached the second floor and Kane led him down a dark-carpeted hallway filled with even more photographs, past closed doors—one of which Kane hesitated in front of before moving on and entering the one room with its doors flung open.
A bedroom styled simply; white walls, blue-and-white drapes, bedding on the kingsized bed, and shiny wood floors. Syren stared at the bed then pivoted to face Kane who’d shut the door and now leaned against it.
“Um.” Syren rubbed his upper arms to ward off the sudden chill. “I’m out of my element.” He licked his lips. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Kane smiled and pushed away from the door. “That’s the beauty of this,” he said softly. “Both of us are in uncharted waters.” He cupped Syren’s cheek. “I won’t hurt you.”
Syren released the breath he held. Words burned the tip of his tongue, words to promise in kind, promise Kane he wouldn’t hurt him either, but he knew himself too well. He circled Kane’s waist and buried his face in the other man’s chest, inhaling the fragrance of fabric softener and Kane’s heated skin. Kane’s hand slid up and down his back, carefully, reverently over the scars and they stood like that until Kane’s erection poked Syren’s middle.
Syren backed up and sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re still fully dressed, Marshal.”
The right side of Kane’s mouth curved and he stared Syren down as he walked over and stood between his parted knees. “Do something then. Undress me.”
Syren did as ordered, albeit with shaky fingers. He undid the button and zipper then tugged the jeans down until the other man’s erection greeted him, thick and flushed, the flared head purple-red and wet. Kane kicked his pants away, but the act barely registered. Syren’s entire body froze as he eyed Kane’s cock. His mouth watered and his lips parted.
His own cock pulsed, his balls heavy and achy.
He wanted to taste the translucent liquid beading out of the tiny slit, bend his head and flick his tongue and lap at it until he’d had his fill. It hit him then, what he’d been missing. What he’d been denied.
Without looking up at Kane, he tapped the crown with his index, capturing the moisture that he then brought to his mouth. The sweetness hit his taste buds, igniting his appetite for more. Syren moaned and bent, but a yank on his hair kept him upright.
He growled.
”Easy.”
He glared up at Kane who only grinned.
“We’re going to take this slow.” Kane pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing gloriously tanned skin, and dropped it on the floor. “As slow as it takes and you sucking on me will not result in slow, trust me.”
Despite the urge to smooth his palms over Kane’s muscular and slightly furry chest, Syren scowled. “We don’t need slow.” He didn’t want to think. Slow would give him time to think, time for the memories to intrude. He placed both hands on Kane’s hips and dragged his tongue over a hipbone.
Kane shuddered. His fingers in Syren’s hair tightened.
“You need this.” Kane pulled him away and stood back. His eyes were serious even with his cock jutting out between the two men, bobbing an invite to the suddenly ravenous Syren. “It’s been forever for you, right?” Syren nodded and Kane continued. “I have to make sure you’re adequately prepared.”
Forever for Kane as well. Even though he didn’t say it, Syren knew the other man hadn’t been with anyone since his partner died. It was a big deal for Syren, but it was also big for Kane. Maybe they both needed this, slow and steady.
“Okay,” Syren conceded. “First your way then mine.”
Kane grinned and motioned with his hand. “Lie back.”
Syren did, gaze straying and staying on the ceiling as Kane walked over to one of the night tables. The butterflies remained in his stomach, but the uneasiness had eased up some. Nerves still gave him goose bumps, but they were the good kind. Anticipation, waiting for Kane to make his move.
A rough finger dipped into the hollow at his throat then slid down, tracing a straight line to his bellybutton. Syren squirmed. Kane leaned over him, lips pulled back in a grin.
“You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen in a very long while.” He dipped his head, slick tongue retracing the steps of his finger.
Syren inhaled and gripped Kane’s biceps. Muscles flexed under his fingertips. Kane shifted away from his hold, kissing his way down Syren’s body while his fingers skirted over his sides. Syren lifted his hips off the bed, moving into Kane’s touch when he dipped his tongue into his navel.
“Umm.” Kane sucked on him there, a hint of teeth coming through to tease Syren. “You taste good, salt and sweet and fucking hot.” He moved lower, nuzzling Syren through his panties.
Syren whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his fingers around the sheets. The ache was like nothing he’d ever experienced, nothing he’d ever imagined. Lower half rising off the bed, he arched into Kane’s face, pushing himself closer.
Warm breath teased at him through the material of his panties then wet joined in. Syren bucked. Kane made a sound and Syren looked down. Kane was sucking him through the panties, hungry moans falling from him.
“Oh God.” Syren drew his knees up. “Kane.”
Sharp nails dug into his hips then quickly released as Kane peeled his underwear off. Syren lifted his ass off the mattress to help, eyes rolling back to the ceiling when Kane nuzzled his balls.
“Jesus!” He reached down, blindly grabbing Kane’s hair. Confident fingers circled his erection, gripped him tight. Syren groaned. “God. Kane.”
Kane sucked one of his balls into his mouth.
Syren cried out then bit his fist to mute the sounds. He couldn’t make himself look down, see what Kane was doing to him, but he felt it, the warm, wet mouth sucking his balls deep, the tongue dipping lower to tease and retreat.
He shook on the bed, the tremors taking over, sweat beading on his forehead and trickling down to the mattress. Kane used his lips and his fingers, tugging on Syren’s balls, a finger tracing the length of his shaft, dipping into his slit, teasing. Syren simply held on, fist stifling the cries as Kane worked to help him create new memories.
Hot breath cascaded over the head of his cock. Syren damn near leapt off the bed. A chuckle drifted up from the man between his legs.
“Kane, I want—” He swallowed then tried again to voice his wants. “I want to touch you too.”
Kane shook his head, the movement causing his chin to bump against Syren’s sensitive cock head. Breath stuttered in Syren’s lungs. Kane took him inside and all thought fled.
“Ugh.” He arched, the movement sending him deeper in that wet cavern. “Kane. Fuck. Please.”
All motion from Kane ceased and Syren glanced down to find eyes trained on him. As he watched, Kane slid both of his palms over each of Syren’s thighs, caressing as their gazes held. His cock slid out of Kane, but the other man didn’t appear to notice.
“You’re so smooth all over.” One of his hands left Syren’s thigh to fist his cock and tug. “So smooth.”
“I— I wax.”
A lazy smile curved Kane’s swollen lips. “Yeah?” He dipped his head and bumped his nose against Syren’s crown. “Fuck my mouth.” He parted his lips and waited.
Syren blinked down at him. “I don’t think—”
“Don’t think,” Kane said. “Let me help you. Sit up and use me, use my mouth. I want you to,” he added.
Syren bit his lip and hesitated, despite the ache in his groin. Could he do that? Use Kane for his own selfish pleasures? No, it wouldn’t be selfish. Kane wanted it. They both did.
He levered himself upright and sat. Kane moved back on his haunches and waited.
“T-take me in your mouth.”
Kane did, without a hint of doubt or hesitation. His warmth closed around Syren, who couldn’t help a groan as the sweetest pleasure dragged from the deepest part of him. He bucked up.
“Ah God!” He held Kane by the nape, a light touch, and pushed up into his mouth again and again. Kane moaned, the sound traveling up Syren’s length, tightening his balls even more and settling in his lower belly. He watched from under his lashes as Kane took him deep, a sensuous advance and retreat as Syren slid in and Kane pulled off, the shine of Kane’s spit on his cock a surprising turn-on.
Kane held his gaze through it all, cheeks hollowed, eyes promising more where the blowjob came from. Syren grabbed the hairs at the back of Kane’s head and forced him forward when he would’ve retreated, jamming himself deeper down his throat until Kane swallowed around him.
“Oh fuck.” Syren lost control of his hips then, slamming forward, burying himself deeper. Orgasm reared its sweet head, the familiar heat clawing at his spine. “Oh fuck.” He pushed forward and Kane twisted away and off, squeezing the base of Syren’s shaft with two fingers.
“Damn it, Kane!”
Laughter danced in Kane’s eyes and he smacked his lips. “Love the way you taste.”
“Really? Wouldn’t have guessed the way you totally just fucking blocked me from shooting down your throat.” From shooting period. Then Syren realized what he’d said. He looked up to find Kane staring down at him, head cocked to the side.
“That’s what you want?” Kane asked. “To shoot down my throat?”
“Well.” Syren shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind it.”
Using his palms flat on Syren’s thighs to hold his weight, Kane bent and brushed his lips over Syren’s. ”Maybe I’ll let you, if you play your cards right.” He kissed Syren again, thrusting inside to flick his tongue over his teeth and gums.
Syren hung on to him, chasing the hint of himself he tasted on Kane, but too soon the other man broke the kiss and stepped back.
“Lie on your stomach.”
“I had no idea this was a card game,” Syren grumbled, but he did what Kane asked, mostly because he was too far gone to turn back. The man was a freaking tease.
Cock tease.
“I’m no tease,” Kane whispered at his ear. “I give it up.” He sucked Syren’s earlobe and Syren was too busy humping the mattress to be embarrassed that he’d spoken out loud.
“Let me kiss you.” Kane kissed his ear and his neck then dropped one on his shoulder as he moved over Syren. “All over.”
Syren stiffened at the first drag of Kane’s lips over his scarred back. “No. Don’t.” He lifted his head, but Kane held him fast with another kiss and another.
“Shh.” Kane’s breath heated the raised flesh, some areas more sensitive than others. “I want to.”
Syren buried his face in a pillow. Why? Why did Kane want to touch him there, let alone kiss him? His back was a patchwork of raised scars crisscrossing each other, branding him as the property of someone else. “No.”
Kane paid no attention to him. He continued kissing his way down Syren’s back, pausing every now and then to trail a finger over a particular scar or trace it with his tongue.
“You’re beautiful,” Kane whispered.
His lips skated over Syren’s lower back, over the rather nasty scar he’d gotten where Delatorre’s belt buckle had cut him. “You’re perfect.”
He didn’t stop kissing the stupid scar and the tenderness was too much. Syren squeezed his eyes tight but hot tears escaped somehow, soaking into the pillow. Kane didn’t notice, he finally moved from Syren’s back to his ass and palmed him, kneading gently.