Page 43 of His for Hanukkah

Strutting into the kitchen, he grabbed Tate’s hands. Then, his hips swinging to the beat of the music, he drew him into the living room. Mesmerized, Tate could do nothing but follow. Adam gave him a playful push onto the couch.

Tate didn’t know where to look first. Adam’s lowered eyes were artfully outlined in deep, bold lines that extended back almost to his temples. His lids were shaded with a soft blue just a few shades darker than his shirt.

His lips were glossy and pink. Begging to be kissed. His curls were artfully tousled, and his cheekbones somehow softened, making him look innocent and feminine, yet undeniably sensual.

Adam executed a seductive shimmy and Tate’s eyes slid down to his chest. A sexy tuft of black hair escaped from the shirt. Adam had apparently remembered when Tate said he loved the contrast of feminine garments on a hairy, masculine chest because he hadn’t tried to shave.

Tate remembered Adam shaving when he was with Jacob, and was glad to see that Adam had followed his preferences, as they also seemed to be Adam’s.

The shirt had a swooped collar that hung down loosely, but it hugged his ribs and waist tightly. It made Tate want to grab him by that collar and pull him towards his mouth.

But before he could put thought into action, Adam swiveled and thrust his hips, drawing Tate’s gaze lower.

He was wearing a thin, white pair of panties, the ribs of the cock cage clearly outlined behind the clinging fabric. Tate clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to strip off those delicate white panties and touch every inch of Adam’s soft flesh.

He wanted his mouth on that sweet cock that was caged so tightly for him and swelling against its bonds.

Instead, he gave in to the pleasure of watching.

Still swiveling his hips, Adam turned around. Where had he learned these moves?

Smiling over his shoulder, he spread his legs and bent forward.

Oh, God. He was wearing the plug, the dark base of it visible through that thin scrap of fabric.

Adam slowly rose and then turned to face Tate, dancing sinuously toward him.

Tate realized then that he’d overlooked his most erotic feature. His eyes were alight with desire, hungry for the magic that they were creating together.

As Adam undulated toward him, Tate considered what might happen next. It certainly looked like Adam intended to give him a lap dance.

Watching that would be undoubtedly sexy. But since Tate’s parts were a little different, he knew he wouldn’t really feel it.

So, he changed the script.

“On your knees, beautiful boy.”

Adam’s kissable lips rounded to an O, but he didn’t falter. Keeping within the beat of the song, he sank gracefully to his knees.

Tate could see the moment when the plug pressed harder against his prostate. His eyes widened in awe and he lost the beat for a moment before regaining it.

Adam’s shoulders were already almost touching Tate’s knees, so when he stood, he crowded Adam with his body. Adam remained in place, yielding control.

Tate unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, the fabric a whisper away from Adam’s lips.

He paused for just the slightest moment, reminding himself that Adam knew about his body and wouldn’t be here if he objected to any of it. It was still difficult taking off his pants for the first time with someone new.

Firming his resolve, he pushed all the layers down at once, jeans, outer underwear for aesthetics, and inner underwear holding his packer. He was completely exposed and pushing himself into Adam’s face.

His dick might be a little smaller than other guys’, but he was still the one in charge.

Adam breathed in his scent, his eyes rolling up in pleasure. Tate hadn’t really expected anything different, but it was still gratifying to cross that hurdle. Tiny doubts that he always carried flittered away.

Gravity had pulled his clothing down past his knees, so he sat down at the front of the couch.

“Suck me,” he commanded.

Adam surged forward, his hands warm on Tate’s thighs.