Shadows Fall (31 page)

“No, I meant the reason he’s killing them. What if it’s a religious thing? Those words… they just seem to have a fire-and-brimstone ring to them when you say them all together, don’t they? Maybe I’m just imagining it.”

“Nah, I get where you’re coming from. Even if that goes to motive, we’re not any closer to catching the guy.”

It was as if somebody turned a crank and tightened all the muscles in Charlie’s shoulders. He drummed the fingers of his right hand against his left forearm. I could feel the tension throbbing just below the surface of his skin.

I sighed and shifted until I was sitting cross-legged facing him. “Is there any way… can we just put this on hold for the night? Just for a few hours?” I asked, hoping Charlie would take the suggestion. “We’ve both been through so much in the last couple of days—I think we need to recharge.”

I saw the argument forming; I saw it in the line between his brows, the set of his jaw, and the firm line of his otherwise gorgeous lips. I knew it would take something close to a miracle to get Charlie’s mind off of his case. He was too good a man to relax and take comfort in his own happiness while others were in pain and counting on him to make things better.

But Charlie wouldn’t be doing anyone any good if he ran himself into the ground. He needed to take care of himself in order to take care of others. Since it didn’t look like he was going to do it without a fight, I’d have to take care of him myself. However, to get his attention, I had to use the last weapon in my arsenal.

Leaning forward, I put my hand on his thigh and squeezed, kneading his flesh like a cat. I ducked my head and looked up at him through my lashes, then slowly pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to chew on. “Just for a little while. Let’s just be together. Please?”

His eyes were drawn like magnets to my lips, and I knew I had him—I just had to press my advantage. He sighed and ran his fingers through my hair. “Titus…”

I could tell it was on his mind to refuse me, but he couldn’t get it past his lips. His body wanted me, his mind and his worries just had to get out of the way. Closing the distance between us, I gripped the hair at the back of his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.

I wasn’t messing around. I planned on doing everything I could in the next few hours of quiet nighttime to pull his mind away from work and center it where it belonged—on me.
Modest, I know
.

Encouraged by his groan of surrender, I plunged my tongue inside to tangle with his, but I didn’t touch him anywhere else besides the back of his head. His hands gripped and released, gripped and released my shirt, silently begging for more contact but instead, I broke the kiss. The look he gave me was needy, pleading, and it was food for my narcissistic soul.

“Don’t worry,” I said with a grin. “There’s more where that came from. Lie down on your stomach.”

“Huh?” he said, looking confused, but he was already yanking off his shirt. I followed suit and soon we were both naked and hard.

Still I didn’t touch him. I gave him a little nudge to follow my directions and lie face down on my bed. I squirted some lotion in my hands and straddled his hips. From the first touch, when I started pressing and molding his tense muscles, he melted into a puddle of hot cop. That was exactly the result I’d been looking for.

I massaged his back and shoulder muscles, putting some strength into it, because the sounds he made were nearly orgasmic. I couldn’t help rolling my hips and rubbing my erection along his lower back and the top of his ass. What was I, a saint?

The soft hairs on his ass tickled my balls and caused my dick to leak a stream of precum. I bit the inside of my cheek to try to keep my mind on track. This was about him, not me.

I dug into his trapezius, and it was apparently really tense, because he groaned and shuddered beneath me.

“Feels so… good,” he mumbled, sounding half-asleep.

As glad as I was to make him feel good, I was not about to let him drift off. I climbed off him and started massaging the lotion into his thighs, down to his calves, ankles, and feet, and back up again. I followed the gorgeous line of muscle of his hamstring to the bottom of the curve of his ass, and I was struck with an idea.

“Charlie, do you trust me?”

“Mm-hmm,” came his immediate reply. I wasn’t sure if I’d massaged him into a puddle of goo that would agree to anything, or if he really had such unquestioning faith in me.

“Okay, then. Remember you said that.” I tapped his hip. “Raise up a little for me.” When he complied by raising his hips off the bed, I slid a pillow underneath him. He was still pretty much prone, but his ass was a little elevated for my exploration.

“Titus?” His voice came out a little shaky—maybe nerves, maybe anticipation, it was hard to tell.

“It’s all right, I got you,” I said, hoping that was reassuring. “You’re gonna get nice and relaxed, I promise.”

Covering my hands with more lotion, I filled my palms with handfuls of his hard, beautiful ass. It began like any other massage, working the muscles and the tendons to get everything to loosen up. I could hear Charlie chuffing and sighing into the duvet, probably not completely relaxed again yet, but getting there.

Then I spread his cheeks and let my lotioned thumb swipe across his entrance. He sucked in a breath and flexed his hips, but he didn’t move. As turned on as I was, I was also humbled that he was surrendering so completely to me. It felt amazing to be trusted.

I did that slow trail of my fingers along his cleft and over his hole a few more times, until I could feel him trembling. I shifted, crawling over his legs, and bent down to press a kiss to one of his sculpted glutes. He flinched but didn’t protest—I took it as a sign to continue.

Just testing the waters, I swiped my tongue across his puckered rim, and he sucked in a sharp, startled breath. “Titus, I don’t—”

Whatever he was going to say was lost when began I rapidly flicking my tongue across his most sensitive skin.

He stretched out his arms and got a good, firm grip on the covers and tipped his ass up even higher to give me better access. I chuckled against his skin. Not every guy enjoyed ass-play, but Charlie was such a tactile person, I had a feeling he didn’t know what he’d been missing.

Kneading his ass-cheeks like a cat and grinding my own erection into the bed, I focused intently on giving Charlie the best—and first—rimming he’d ever had. I pointed my tongue and pushed it in as far as it would go.

“Jesus…
Christ!
” he exclaimed, bucking his hips back against my face.

“You like that?” I asked.

“Mmm-hmmph.” Charlie’s response was muffled by the sheets he was pressing his face into.

I took another swipe with my tongue and reveled in the noises I was able to draw from him. Then he raised his powerful torso up to prop himself on his elbows. I gazed across the spectacular landscape of his body, from the smooth mounds of his glutes and along the curve of his spine, up to his wide shoulders where the muscles bunched and rolled beneath his skin. Then our eyes met.

He’d turned his head to look over his shoulder at me, raising a single eyebrow. From that angle, he must have been treated to quite a view—I was splayed out across his legs, both hands clutching his ass like a lifeline, face poised inches from his sweet spot.

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, I lowered my chin a fraction and flicked my tongue across his pucker. His eyes rolled back until the whites showed, a muscle in his cheek twitched, and the sound that tore from his throat was halfway between a growl and a supplicatory moan.

I gave him what he wanted—maybe needed—and pushed my tongue inside him again His head hung down between his arms and he shivered all over.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “
Fuck
… I—I never knew…”

Whatever else he was going to say was lost to sensation. I wanted to see how far I could take him. I sat up, chuckling at his quiet whimper of protest when I abandoned my task. I leaned over and reached into the drawer of my bedside table to snag a bottle of lube. I drizzled a generous amount along his crease, causing his muscles to shiver and twitch. Then I got my hand nice and slick as well.

Slowly, I reached between his spread legs and pressed one slick finger into his hole, just to the first knuckle. He groaned into the bedclothes and began shaking again. I stroked his ass with my free hand to calm him, almost like gentling a spooked horse.

He took a deep breath and when he exhaled, I pushed my finger gently, slowly, until it was in as far as it could comfortably fit. He grunted but didn’t protest. I might have imagined it, but it actually seemed like he might’ve pushed back against my hand just slightly. “Okay?” I asked, hoping he didn’t want me to stop.

A few seconds passed before he answered. “Yeah… I think so. Keep… I’d like to keep going, for now.”

I nodded even though I knew he wasn’t looking at me. Concentrating hard, I gently pumped my finger in and out a few times. Then I crooked my finger and found that delicious sweet spot inside him, and he lit up like a firecracker.

“Oh…
oh
… what? Do that again—that…”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing triumphantly at his incoherent babbling. I was happy to be giving him this moment. My introduction to the vast and sometimes wonderful world of anal-play had not been nearly as enjoyable, or done with half as much care. I had no idea if Charlie would ever bottom, or even if he would ever want to do this again, but I was glad that I could make his first experience with this particular activity something to look back on and remember fondly.

His muscles seemed to relax one by one—the last one being the one that gripped my finger—and he chuffed out a sigh. He was really opening up to me, so I chose that opportunity to nudge his prostate again. He almost came off the bed and that time, I wasn’t able to contain my laugh—and I’m embarrassed to say it probably was pretty triumphant.

Charlie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he bent his knees and spread his legs to give me plenty of room to play.

“Think you can take another one?” I asked, only half teasing.

The sheets rustled as he bobbed his head in an emphatic nod. “Please,” he said, the word ending in a whimper as I quickly eased another finger in beside the first.

Charlie began humping the bed in earnest as I pumped my fingers into him, sometimes with a little twist of my wrist or crook of my finger. Beads of sweat formed along the length of his spine, and his breath came out fast and ragged. He grunted and moaned with each thrust.

An idea dawned, bright and brilliant like a flash of lightning. But the question was,
would he or wouldn’t he?
I paused again and sat back up. “Charlie, do you trust me?” I don’t know why I felt the need to ask again. I guess I just needed the reassurance that I wasn’t pushing him into anything he didn’t want.

“Of course.” He huffed out the two words with possibly a tinge of impatience, but absolutely no hesitation.

It occurred to me again that, yeah, he really did trust me implicitly. This powerful, commanding protector-of-the-people put himself in my hands with complete trust, without batting an eyelash. My heart tripped over itself a little. Such a thing was staggering to little ol’ me.

Again, I reached into the bedside table, this time pulling out a dildo—the only one I owned, that I occasionally used during the really dry spells. It was one of those lifelike but not life-sized ones, just good for a nice stretch. It looked pretty much like a real cock, except it had a handle and a cross-guard just like some kind of little sword—I jokingly referred to him as Brad the Impaler.

Charlie peeked over his shoulder at me, darting a nervous glance toward the toy. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, then turned his face away again. Since I didn’t hear any protests, I took that as a sign to keep going.

I spread a generous amount of lube along the length of the toy, and then slicked up Charlie’s passage again just for good measure. Not knowing how much experience Charlie had with touching his own ass, I wanted to make sure to ease the way. Putting one hand on the small of his back, I poised the head of the dildo at his entrance. When he felt the cool surface teasing his cheeks, he squirmed but didn’t object.

“Charlie, have you ever used a toy before?”

“No,” he mumbled into the sheets, just barely audible, and I saw the tips of his ears turn red. “Never done more than a couple of fingers.”

I had to be sure. “Do you want this?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet but strong, and it left no doubt that Charlie was ready.

“Okay. Try to relax and it will go easier. Just say the word and we’ll stop.” With no further warning, I pressed the toy against his hole, exerting gentle but steady pressure until the faux head popped inside. We both groaned—me from the sight of his lovely pink pucker stretching around the toy, and him from what I hoped was pleasure.

Putting a little more muscle behind it, I eased in about an inch more, drawing out, pushing in. Charlie was panting like he couldn’t seem to find enough air, and I chose to take it as a good sign.

“Oh, Jesus…Titus. So good.”

The stripped-down, broken sound of those words, uttered between moans, caused my own cock to jump and leak. I eased the toy almost all the way out, then reinserted it. This time when it was about halfway in, Charlie rocked his hips back forcefully and engulfed the entire thing to the hilt.