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Something flashed through those beautiful eyes and Patrick’s smell swelled with fresh rain and earthy sweetness, before he broke eye contact and looked down between them. Fal’ran kept their foreheads together and watched Patrick’s eyes as he pushed Patrick’s underwear below his balls. He tilted his body away enough to give Patrick a view of Fal’ran stroking him off, of his flushed cock thrusting through Fal’ran’s first.
“Oh, fuck.” Patrick’s eyebrows pinched as he gazed down at Fal’ran working him. He stared as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and couldn’t tear his eyes away. His look of wonder made Fal’ran growl in his chest and tighten his grip on the back of Patrick’s neck. If he didn’t know better, if Patrick weren’t twice Fal’ran’s age and fucking gorgeous, he’d think this was the first time Patrick had seen a man’s hand around his cock.
And if he hadn’t seen the way Patrick looked at Mal—
Fuck, the last thing Fal’ran wanted to think about while he had Patrick panting against a wall was someone else getting to have the same fucking thing. Fal’ran could do better than anyone who’d ever touched Patrick before. He fucking knew he could.
He dropped to his knees, yanked Patrick’s hips toward him, and swallowed his cock to the root.
Chapter Eleven
“Fuck!” Patrick doubled over and grasped Fal’ran’s hair as Fal’ran swallowed around him. Fal’ran hadn’t lacked for cock on the Projects and he liked the feel of one in his mouth as much as the next man. But they’d all been practice for this. For driving any memory of anyone else from Patrick’s mind.
Fal’ran could give Patrick what he needed better than anyone. He just needed Patrick to see it.
“Fal’ran, stop, fuck, I—” Patrick panted and pulled his hair. But Patrick knew what word would stop Fal’ran, and that wasn’t it. He pinned Patrick’s hips back against the metal lockers, sucking and licking as Patrick quaked under his hands. “Fal’ran—”
“I’m gonna make you come like this.” Fal’ran pulled his mouth off Patrick’s length to bury his nose into the crease of his groin and growl promises to him. He inhaled deeply and his balls throbbed at the smell of Patrick’s musk. “I’m gonna make you come so hard you won’t be able to stand, Patrick.”
“Oh god.” Patrick yanked Fal’ran’s hair and clenched his jaw. “You cocky little shit—” Patrick threw back his head with a cry when Fal’ran wrapped his lips around him again.
Fal’ran was cocky. But he was cocky because he was good.
He bobbed over Patrick’s length with every bit of the determination he’d done everything with ever since he’d landed on this planet. He licked and sucked and dug his tongue into the spot under Patrick’s head that made his thighs shake. He forced him down his throat until his eyes watered, suckled his sensitive head, and laved attention over his slit until he whimpered.
“Fal’ran, Fal’ran, oh god, shit.” Patrick’s hips flexed against Fal’ran’s grip, but Fal’ran held him down and forced him to take the pace Fal’ran set. “Fal’ran!”
Patrick’s pitch spiked and a tangy richness burst onto Fal’ran’s tongue. God, fuck, Fal’ran's hand dove between his legs to press the heel of his palm against his cock before the taste of Patrick carried him over the edge. Sharp and present and impossible to ignore, like the man he was on his knees for. Fal’ran moaned and buried his nose in the thatch of rough, dark hair at Patrick’s base, working his throat over Patrick’s pulsing length.
Patrick thrust into Fal’ran’s mouth, grinding into him as he emptied himself down Fal’ran’s throat. Satisfaction and triumph and a primal possessiveness ignited in Fal’ran’s chest as Patrick’s scent and taste assaulted his senses. He’d done that. He’d made Patrick Smith—hard as nails human Klah’Eel captain—come with Fal’ran’s own name on his lips.
He licked and suckled Patrick’s softening cock until the man writhed with overstimulation. When he loosened his grip on Patrick’s hip, the older man slumped forward, catching himself with both hands on Fal’ran’s shoulders.
Fal’ran smirked, and accomplishment thrilled straight to his leaking cock and aching balls.
“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to stand when I was done with you.” He lifted Patrick’s hands off his shoulders to stand, then he pressed them back beside Patrick’s head and nuzzled and kissed his neck. Sweat slicked Patrick’s skin and his pulse hammered under Fal’ran’s lips. “I told you I’d make you come.”
“I didn’t—” Patrick caught his breath, nosing into Fal’ran’s hair and panting into him. “I didn’t doubt you. Never have.”
Fal’ran's hips bucked into Patrick’s belly. Patrick’s voice, thick with pleasure, and saying those words made Fal’ran groan into Patrick’s neck. Everyone in Fal’ran’s life had doubted him. Everyone except Patrick. He pushed him and worked him and yelled at him, but only because he believed in him.
“Touch me.” Fal’ran dragged one of Patrick’s hands down from beside his head and pressed it to his desperate length. “Please, Patrick.”
Patrick’s breath hitched as he cupped the front of Fal’ran’s pants. “Fuck, you’re hard.”
Fal’ran choked on a burst of laughter, his face still buried in Patrick’s neck, losing himself in his scent. “Of course, I am.” He rolled his hips against Patrick’s palm and Patrick met the motion, sending heat spider-webbing from his lower belly. “I’ve been leaking since the second I got my mouth on you.”
“Yeah?” Patrick grabbed Fal’ran’s package, and Fal’ran’s eyes rolled back at the sudden bite of confidence in his voice.
“Yeah, fuck—” Fal’ran didn’t resist when Patrick tore his other hand free and popped the button on Fal’ran’s pants. He braced his forearms on either side of Patrick’s head and curled around him, his entire focus wrapping around the man in his arms. “Before that even.”
“Let me see.” Patrick ripped his pants open and Fal’ran’s cock bounced out into the hot, sticky air.
Patrick stilled.
Uncertainty slammed into Fal’ran’s chest like the staff of a gatlung. What if Patrick didn’t like it? Fal’ran had never once in his entire life worried someone wouldn’t like his cock, but now he held his breath. Patrick had probably seen bigger ones. And ones attached to more impressive men. More highly ranking men with advanced vocabularies and titles from better parts of the empire.
Sure, Patrick supported him and believed in him, and hell, he’d been hard as rock in Fal’ran’s mouth but there was a world of difference between being supportive of a poor kid that gave good head and wanting Fal’ran himself.
