Making Promises (35 page)

“Oh geez, Mickey, I really wish you would.”

Mikhail’s look under his brows went sideways and sly. “Has anyone told you that your cock is enormous?” he asked with a little bit of wonder.

He wrapped his hand around Shane and showed that his fingers did not touch his thumb. “This is asking something from someone who has not done this in nearly six months.”

Shane gave a laugh that was almost hysterical and tilted his head back. Mikhail kept that warm, strong grip on his dumb-stick and pretty much steered him backward until he was leaning against the other wall, and still stroking, went down on his knees in the carpeted hallway.

Shane looked down at him. Mikhail held his cock straight out and, meeting Shane’s eyes, extended that wicked tongue and swiped upward from the slit to the edge of the mushroom head, and Shane closed his eyes Making Promises

and groaned. “Just remember I haven’t done this in nearly two years,” he hissed. “That there is a loaded weapon in your hand.” Mikhail opened his mouth and hollowed his cheeks, engulfing the head and nothing else, then allowed his lips to close and glide over Shane’s most sensitive skin. He pulled back with an audible smack and said, “Then maybe I should clean it before it goes off, hmm?” His mouth was warm and moist and very skilled. He moved his lips to the base of Shane’s cock and then swallowed, taking Shane all in, and the sensation of his throat working on the wide, flat cockhead almost made Shane come right there. Shane made an unintelligible noise and tangled his hand in Mikhail’s wildly curly hair, and Mikhail continued to do exactly what he wanted, and what he wanted was to blow Shane’s mind.

He pulled back and swirled his tongue around the head and then grabbed the whole of the heavy flesh and, using spit and pre-come as lube, pumped Shane slowly with his hand while his tongue and tiny grazes with his teeth performed miracles at the crown.

And then he moved his other hand up to Shane’s ass, and Shane had to work hard to keep his knees from buckling. Mikhail’s fingers tickled the edge of Shane’s cleft, and Shane adjusted his legs and bent his knees, because he was completely shameless about wanting those tickling fingers to explore even deeper.

Mikhail was shameless about wanting to drive Shane crazy before he did.

First he moved his hand again, taking advantage of Shane’s spread legs to insinuate between them and stroke the tender flesh between Shane’s entrance and his scrotum and then to gently cup the tenderness of Shane’s balls.

And he never stopped the pumping of his other hand or the playing of his tongue and teeth on the head of Shane’s straining cock.

When a spit-slick finger toyed with Shane’s entrance, Shane threw his head back against the wall hard enough to see stars and tried to form real words. “Gonna come….”

Mikhail looked up from his position on the floor with wicked, avid eyes. “So? You are clean—all those hospital tests, don’t tell me you are not…”

Shane choked back a strained laugh. “Wanna fuck!” he practically whined.

Mikhail wrapped his lips around Shane’s rampant cock again and thrust forward quickly and then pulled back, while the finger in Shane’s ass did the same thing. Shane closed his eyes and tried to count the dots behind them until he felt air on his cock, teasing him still, and he looked down at his lover, the man he’d been trying to seduce since October.

When Mikhail looked up again to speak this time, his face was shiny with spit and pre-come. “Silly man,” he said, his eyes heavy lidded and playful. “If you think, after all this time, you will only come once tonight, you have not been paying attention.”

And with that he thrust Shane’s cock practically down his throat and added another finger into Shane’s ass, and Shane pumped come until his knees buckled, and Mikhail had to let go of him so he could slide down the wall.

When his vision cleared, Mikhail had leaned forward to put his head on Shane’s shoulder, and he was absorbed in the task of stroking Shane’s chest hair. Shane blushed and caught his hand.

“I like,” Mikhail murmured softly. “Let me touch.”

“Okay. You win. Anyone who can make me come that hard that fast, I guess he gets a few liberties with my body.” Shane blinked again, hard, and then realized that he had a bare-chested armful of gay Russian and he wasn’t doing anything about it. He brought his hand up to the back of Mikhail’s head and buried his fingers in the springy curls to massage Mikhail’s scalp. Mickey shivered sensuously and leaned into his touch like a cat.

“You liked?” Mikhail asked, and Shane had to look at his expression to see if he was serious. He was peering at Shane with a surprising shyness—and a true willingness to please.

“Oooooohhh yeah,” Shane answered, and then he lowered his face to kiss that shy smile. Mikhail responded and rolled over, taking advantage of Shane’s wide chest to sprawl on top of him, grinding his groin up against Shane’s thigh. Shane felt his own cock twitch and pulled away from the kiss for long enough to say, “Mickey, any chance we can do this on the bed? I’m getting a bruise on my shoulders from the baseboard.” Making Promises

Mikhail laughed wickedly and popped up off of him with the quickness of the young before extending a hand. Shane ignored it and clambered after him, feeling old and clumsy.

Mikhail rolled his eyes. “I held out a hand—you could not take it?”

“I’m not that decrepit!” Shane protested, bending down to get the clothes he’d kicked his way out of. He figured his shirt and sweater would just stay on the floor of the living room, but a man never knew when he might need his pants.

“You are proud, that’s what you are,” Mikhail accused, taking the hand that didn’t hold the clothes. There was affection in his voice so Shane figured he was kidding. Since their hands were linked anyway, Mikhail started leading them down the hall and into his bedroom.

“I have no pride whatsoever,” Shane protested mildly, and Mikhail grunted.

“That is a lie. You have no vanity, that is true, but you have pride.” He turned on the light in his room and managed to look self-conscious.

“And here you have it. The room of a man who still lives with his mother.”

Shane laughed and dumped his clothes on the dresser, next to the treasure box. “You’re dating a man who has more cats than most grandmothers. I think we’re both safely out of the realm of the cool and popular.” He swung around to Mikhail then and pulled the guy into his arms for a kiss. “At least you’re pretty and can dance—that puts you at least five steps up on the coolness ladder.”

Mikhail peered at him thoughtfully. “Is that why you want me?” he asked, without a trace of playfulness. “Because I am pretty and can dance?”

Shane smiled, remembering the first time he’d seen Mikhail, moving sinuously under the gold October sun. “That’s who I wanted when I first saw you,” he said now. “And then you grabbed my hand and talked, and…

damn. The whole rest of the package… it was like a really pretty Macy’s wrapping job on what you wanted most for Christmas as a kid. And you wanted me too.” Shane shrugged and blushed and looked away, pretty sure he was never going to get across what that meant to him, that Mikhail had wanted him too.

Mikhail was looking up at him with something like wonder. He didn’t answer but pushed himself up on his toes and met Shane’s mouth, pulling him down and into the kiss with shaking hands and desperation.

Shane answered him back, just as hard and just as wanting. Shane took over this time, turning Mikhail around and steering him toward the bed.

His hand spanned Mikhail’s neck, his shoulders, his chest. For a moment he let himself play with the small patch of gold chest hair in the center, before he spread his hands and rubbed until he felt tiny nipples pebbling in his palms.

Mikhail grunted when he backed up against the bed—it was the kind with a pedestal and drawers underneath for his clothes, so it didn’t move at all—and then pulled away from Shane and tried to turn around.

Shane grunted and caught him by the shoulders and sat him down, then pushed him backward until he was lying down.

“What are we doing?” Mikhail asked, narrowing his eyes with a little bit of irritation, and Shane flopped down on the bed next to him, planting little nibbles on his abdomen and enjoying the hissing sounds Mikhail made as he squirmed beneath Shane’s mouth.

“Exploring,” Shane said, sticking out his own tongue and teasing a little divot of a navel.

“Exploring?” Mikhail tried to push himself onto his elbows, and Shane stopped him with a flattened palm in the center of his chest. “I don’t want to go… ahhh… ahhhh… ahhh…”— because Shane was kissing down his happy trail of golden fur to the elastic on his boxers—

“
exploring
,” he finally hissed.

“No?” Shane teased, palming Mickey’s erection through his boxers.

“No exploring?”

“No, you stupid man!” Mikhail arched against his hand in hunger. “I don’t want you to go
exploring,
I want you to go
spelunking
!” Shane had to stop for a minute to giggle into the soft skin of the smaller man’s hard abdomen. “Spelunking? Is that what we’re doing?” It was hard for Mikhail to keep his moue of irritation when he was fighting a battle with his own laughter. “No, it is
not
what we’re doing,” he said, giggling back. “It is what I’m
waiting
for you to do!” Making Promises

Shane’s giggles died down and he rested his cheek on Mikhail’s stomach and looked soberly up his body. “Don’t worry, Mickey. I’ll make this good for you. I promise.”

Mikhail’s hand came out and stroked his dark hair away from his eyes. There was something indefinable, something vulnerable, in the other man’s face.

“You’ve already kept that promise about a hundred times over,” he said musingly. “I don’t see how it can be any better.” Shane grinned evilly, and the moment lightened. He shucked Mickey’s boxers down his legs and took that slender cock into his hot mouth. Mikhail gasped, and the moment burned passionate just that quickly.

He tasted so good. A little like soap and a lot like clean skin—spice, sweetness, soft skin, hard strength. Shane tightened his lips against Mikhail’s base and sucked hard, loving the surprised gasp he brought out.

With some wiggling, he managed to put himself right between Mikhail’s legs, and his hands weren’t soft or tender as he shoved at the back of Mickey’s thighs until his knees were bent and his body, all of it, was splayed out to look at—and to play with.

Mikhail gasped again and came a little. Shane let it trickle out of his mouth and down the crease of the other man’s thigh. He skated his fingers on it, rubbing it into the space between the back of the blond, furry testicles and the smooth pucker of his anus, and when Mikhail whimpered and gasped and thrust into his mouth, he knew he was doing it right.

“Please…,” Mikhail begged, and if Shane could have grinned, he would have. Mickey wouldn’t beg if it wasn’t urgent. Gently he thrust one finger in and stretched, and then two. Mikhail sighed and pushed down, begging for more, and Shane’s cock perked up under his belly, and he thought he might be able to give just that.

“Mickey, you got something in your drawer for me?”

“Use spit….”

“I’m not fucking you with a fingerful of spit for lube!”

“Fine!” What came next sounded like the sort of Russian that wouldn’t be found in any textbooks, and Mikhail wriggled across the bed on his back to root around in the drawer that pulled out under the bed.

Shane followed him and kept sucking and kept his fingers right where they 216

had been, and the small bottle of lubricant that hit him on the forehead was thrown with unnecessary force.

“Hey!” Shane protested, even as he took the bottle and snicked the lid, adding a dollop to his fingers and greasing Mikhail’s entrance up right.

“I will be nicer to you when
you are fucking me, dammit
!”
Mikhail growled back, and Shane laughed sincerely before moving up the bed, dragging his body up Mikhail’s, and stopping, finally, when they were face to face. Shane moved his hand and positioned himself right where he needed to be and pushed just enough to let Mikhail know he was serious.

Mikhail took a deep breath and stilled the thrashing of his wiry, athletic body to look up and meet Shane’s eyes.

“You don’t need to worry,” Mikhail murmured, answering something in Shane’s expression that he hadn’t voiced. “I know this means something.”

“Yeah,” Shane sighed, and he thrust home.

The tight ring of muscle was relaxed, and Mikhail had enough control not to tighten up, so he slid in so slick it was like he belonged there. Mikhail gasped and arched beneath him, and together they began to move. Shane’s body wasn’t fully healed, so he had to work hard to not move like he hurt, and that was okay. Mikhail managed “tender speed” for an admirable length of time, with much touching of Shane’s face and nuzzling of his neck, and every touch and kiss and stroke sent Shane higher, there was no doubt about that. About the time Shane was as high as he could get and the pain in his side was far less important than the pleasure underneath him, Mikhail started fucking him back. Shane’s cock swelled even more, and his hips thrust and pumped, and the man beneath him, the man who fascinated him and set his skin blazing and made everything from his dick to his heart ache and throb with wanting, looked intensely back at him and begged him for more.