Melbourne Heat (4 page)

“Okay,” Spencer said.

Charles smiled then closed the distance between them. Angling Spencer’s face up, he bent down and kissed the man slowly. They pressed their lips together and all the oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the car. Charles’ heart sped up, pounding hard. Spencer moaned and opened his lips. Charles didn’t need any further invitation.

He thrust his tongue inside, plundering Spencer’s mouth.

They tangled together, each moving closer. Spencer tasted hot and sweet, the faint hint of smoky barbecue sauce from his sandwich lingering and adding depth to his natural flavor. In the intimacy of the car, Charles couldn’t help but scent Spencer, and it all added up to one factor—he wanted this man. Badly.

Spencer’s taste, his essence, even the softness of his personality, his hand gestures and pleasure in the natural world around him, altogether it intoxicated Charles. He had no doubt Spencer was his mate, and he longed to claim him as such. But reality was different. Charles knew he needed to ease Spencer along, introduce him slowly to the full depth of his character and secrets.

You couldn’t simply say to a bloke you’d just met, ‘Hi there, you’re my mate and I shift regularly into a wolf. Let me bite you, mark you, brand you as mine and hey, can we indulge in some kinky sex afterward? I’d love to tie you up while I bend you over and fuck you blind.’

Even the strongest of men would quiver at such an information overload.

So slow and steady it would be.

When Spencer moved closer, his bag squished between them. The confines of the front seat were restrictive. It took every iota of control Charles had to pull away from the drugging intensity of that kiss. Need, heat and desire pulsed between them, utterly undeniable.

“Let’s go inside,” Charles panted.

Spencer made a noise of assent and they left the car. Charles led the way into his small home. When he’d shut and locked the door behind them, he pressed Spencer’s back into the wood. Kissing him ravenously, Charles began to undress him. Holding his own, Spencer got his hands busy, too.

Bags dropped unheeded to the floor, belts were untied and shirts unbuttoned in a flurry of motion. All the while, Charles continued to kiss and lick at Spencer’s mouth, unwilling to have even a moment go by without that contact. Charles nibbled down the long line of Spencer’s neck—relishing the tender flesh there. The wolf in him finally sat up and took notice. The tender juncture between neck and shoulder called to him. He longed to bite into that soft flesh, to suck and mark the spot, to claim Spencer as his.

Mates were a funny business, something even after all these years Charles didn’t fully understand. Near as he could tell, a viable mate was similar to true love for humans. Some people had two—or very rarely three—in their lives. Most people had one mate and if they could recognize them when they met and if the circumstances were right, they could live the so-called traditional ‘happily ever after’. And sometimes, for a variety of reasons, you just didn’t cross paths with anyone suitable.

Again, much like human love, it wasn’t a formula or a movie where there was a set time and guaranteed ending.

So the urge to throw caution to the wind, say fuck anyone else’s thoughts and just stake his claim was strong. Incredibly tempting, because Charles knew this might be his one shot for lasting happiness. But he held himself in check. The look in Spencer’s eyes when he’d so hesitatingly said,
“…it didn’t turn me on like I thought it would. The situation didn’t work for me”
. The way his gaze had skittered away, how Spencer had barely been able to look in his eyes. It all added up to something significant in his past.

Much as he wanted to storm ahead, to break down those barriers and lay claim to this man, Charles equally wanted Spencer to relish every moment. Charles wanted to hear those sensual cries, to have his partner arched deliciously and screaming for more.

Charles didn’t think of himself as a selfish lover, but neither was he usually one to deny himself. This time, something was different. He
wanted
to make this perfect for Spencer, wanted him pleading to do it again, to push harder, to go further.

Then, with cheerful abandon, Charles would fulfill his every desire. And more.

“Heaven knows this isn’t the time where I want a deep and meaningful conversation,” Charles said after he’d lifted his head. “But I need you to tell me just a few of the things from that past experience you can’t or won’t do.”

Spencer froze, his body becoming rigid. Wanting to break that tension as fast as possible, but still get a few hard rules set between them before they began, Charles did the first thing that came to mind. He knelt on the floor, putting himself in what would appear to be a subservient position. Spencer couldn’t possibly know just yet of his extraordinary speed and strength. It would be a genuine challenge for him to win any physical contest between the two of them. The illusion of control was the best Charles could do just now.

Spencer did have power, and plenty of it. It was he who could put the brakes on this blossoming relationship, he who could stomp out any chance Charles could see for a happy ending for himself. A willing Spencer was the only chance Charles had for a lasting, permanent, satisfying relationship with another man. But Charles doubted Spencer could see that, or would even believe it yet.

With his head down, Charles reached out to Spencer’s leather shoes and began untying the laces.

“I’m not asking for every detail, thought and emotion,” he said. “I just want a snapshot of what really turned you off, of what you feel are hard and fast things you refuse to do. If I can get an idea of where your lines are, things that will ruin the mood, then I can get an idea of where your boundaries are. Just a quick one, though. I don’t know about you, but I have limited patience right now.”

Charles removed Spencer’s shoes and set to work on his socks. He glanced up, to gauge where Spencer’s mind was at.

Spencer’s light brown hair had fallen forward while the man looked down at him. In that nervous gesture Charles had recognized earlier, Spencer pulled the strands back and tucked them behind his ear. His eyes were large, his pupils dilated. Charles was pleased that regardless of the topic, it seemed as if Spencer was at least still turned on.

“I won’t be humiliated,” Spencer said, his voice thick. “And for now, let’s say anything that really pushes the envelope is probably off limits. At the club I saw these people strapped to some devices, like crosses, getting whipped. That’s way too far for me. And by humiliation, there was this woman who had to crouch on the floor, holding her pussy open with her own hands so everyone could see her cream while she literally begged to lick her Dom’s boots. I don’t mind being uncomfortable, but the thought of being pushed over that line makes me angry, and I can’t say I’d stand for it. And like you said, it would totally ruin the mood for me.”

Charles knelt up so he was level with Spencer’s waist. He reached to unbutton Spencer’s pants and pushed them to the floor. Brightly patterned boxers were revealed, a colorful, vibrant splash that was as cheerful as Spencer’s soul itself. Charles nodded. The underwear matched its owner perfectly.

“Let me be honest. While I’d love to have you worked up, insensate and begging for my cock and possession in your every orifice, I’m not interested in doing it in public,” he said. “I don’t need to show you off. I have no desire to bandy about the privacy of our bedroom for others to see and be seduced by it. And while one day—way in the future—I might want to discuss openly with you some more exotic forms of kink, it will never be while we’re both raring to go, without discussion. Is that acceptable to you?”

“I can live with that,” Spencer said. He took Charles by surprise and knelt, straddling his thighs. “You have far too many clothes on. If you were a rough man, a hard, unfeeling one, you’d have just taken me by now and to hell with my baggage or feelings. I’m here and I trust you. So get moving.”

Charles chuckled and kissed him hard.

“One day I will just take you,” he promised darkly. “Rough and hard, to hell with your feelings. I’ll fuck you into the wall or floor—wherever the mood strikes me. But this time, I’d like to start in my bed.”

Spencer stood up and Charles followed him. Leading the way to his bedroom, Charles had to hide his smile as Spencer looked around, seeming interested in his home. It was nothing much, a fairly standard bachelor pad, albeit a clean one. Charles had never been one to live in squalor, but as he got older he found he appreciated clean surfaces and neatness more than his average friend did. There was a large couch, a TV and decent-sized entertainment unit.

There were two bookshelves crammed with an assortment of books, everything from biographies to fiction, Australian history and travel. A sharp eye might notice a larger than usual collection of werewolf and shifter literature. Charles could never help himself, he was always intrigued as to what the newest theories on such matters were.

They went down the hall and Charles paused outside his bedroom. He nodded to the next door.

“That’s the bathroom if you need it,” he offered. When Spencer shook his head, Charles stepped aside and let him enter first. Bending down, Charles removed his surplus army boots and socks. He quickly shed his pants and boxer briefs, naked in a few seconds.

He followed Spencer into the room. Charles cast a quick look about, glancing with fresh eyes. Grateful that he was neat by nature, he didn’t see anything to be embarrassed by. The enormous bed took up most of the space, with a bedside table on each end. The closet was built in to the wall and a window looked out onto his postage stamp-sized back yard. Apart from a glass of water, a box of tissues and a few scattered personal items, the room was spartan but lived in.

For a moment, Charles imagined the room with Spencer living with him. There’d be more color, he decided, and probably some framed photos on the surfaces and walls to cheer things up. Charles had never considered his place austere or grim, but now that he’d met Spencer he saw there was little vibrancy, no real splashes of color or heart to it. He hoped soon his partner would be comfortable enough to bring such things into his life.

Charles pulled the covers back and climbed onto the bed. He shifted the pillows so they wouldn’t get in the way, but could still be on hand. For the first time Spencer seemed to show indecision. He remained standing just inside the doorway. Charles patted the bed next to him.

“I’m not going to chain you here,” he said. “But it will be difficult for me to do anything when you’re so far over there.”

As Spencer came forward and climbed onto the mattress. Charles appreciated the long, slim lines of the man’s body. There was no boniness, but it was clear he could stand to gain a few kilos. Still, Charles had been right in his earlier assessment. Spencer had broad shoulders and slender but still muscled pecs and arms. He was all man, and Charles couldn’t wait to get a taste of him.

His inner beast paced and wanted to roar. Charles had no doubt this was the man for him, there was no question that Spencer could satisfy him better than any other, but still Charles reminded himself, he was a man first, not some ravaging monster. He refused to take, he hadn’t lied earlier.

Tempted as he was to remove all the control out of Spencer’s hands, he wanted to prove himself more. Giving Spencer as much dominance as he could bear, Charles reached out and grabbed his partner’s shoulders. Dipping his head, he kissed Spencer, stole both their breath away.

Turning them, Charles drew Spencer with him as he lay on his back. Spencer was dragged onto him. Charles spread out his legs. Spencer got his balance and pressed their chests together and rested on top of him in a position of power. Kissing him hungrily, Charles meandered his hands, learning the angles and planes of his partner’s body.

Spencer eagerly kissed him back, but still Charles could feel the hesitation in him. His partner might have been confused and didn’t seem quite on board yet. Charles’ inner wolf snapped and snarled, but he held the beast firmly in control. Pulling his head back, Charles took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Suck me,” he commanded.

Spencer blinked and opened his eyes. Charles noted his pupils were huge, making his gaze appear almost black. Despite the reticence he still sensed, Charles was pleased Spencer was evidently attracted to him, as lost in passion as he.

When Spencer started to scoot down the bed, Charles reached out and held his arm.

“No, turn around, so I can prepare your ass. I’ve been dying to taste you, too,” he explained.

Understanding, Spencer turned around. He rested on his elbows and knees with their torsos aligned. With his legs open, straddling Charles’ chest, the position spread his buttocks perfectly and positioned him so Charles could lick his asshole with ease. Spencer dipped his head and opened his mouth. Wet heat encompassed Charles’ cock and he grunted with approval.

Spencer sucked hard and the pressure increased.

Charles could feel himself hardening painfully. He thrust his hips up, pushing his leaking cock deeper into Spencer’s mouth.

Proving how wicked his tongue could be, Spencer licked around his tip, finding the sensitive bunch of nerves just below his slit.

Charles moaned.

Bobbing his head, Spencer went to work, sucking him like a pro.

Charles struggled to think coherently. He reached up and parted Spencer’s cheeks farther, relishing the sight of his tiny, puckered hole. Charles’ mouth watered as he traced his fingers down Spencer’s scrotum, under his sac and across the tender skin of his perineum. He repeated the motion, caressing the skin and wanting to ignite the myriad of nerves present.

He could see the tremble in Spencer’s thighs, knew the man felt every stroke. Part of Charles wanted to lie back and enjoy his partner’s ministrations. Nothing was quite as blissful as being blown by someone who clearly knew what he was doing. But this first time, Charles needed to be as active as he could manage. He licked his lips, moistening them, then coated a finger with his saliva.