Page 84 of The Villains of Winter

His words didn’t make any sense, yet James understood him.

James had never kissed a man either. He hadn’t even thought about kissing Elliott on the mouth before, it was something he did in the moment.

On that afternoon in early June, James had wanted to clear his mind from everything ahead of him. That’s all that mattered.

He wanted to end his ceaseless thoughts on the pressures expected of him.

The mattress groaned beneath their weight. James moved on top of him. James needed another kiss, then another, asking between the exhales. He didn’t even want to remember his own name. James’s brain chemicals made him clumsy, shutting the window with one hand and removing the sheets in his way with his other.

James clasped Elliott’s belt.

“Do you want me to stop?” James needed to be sure Elliott wanted him. They had only mentioned a kiss before. He didn’t want to take advantage of what Elliott might not want with him.

In response, Elliott unknotted James’s tie. James unbuttoned himself, careful not to make the mattress creak, they couldn’t be loud. There were students bashing piano keys, singing loudly along to Billy Joel at the top of their lungs, right across the hallway in the Common Room.

None of them knew James was unzipping Elliott. None of them could hear him panting in Elliott’s ear as Elliott unzipped him in return, their hands roaming in tandem. Searching. Wanting.

His intense breathing hitched as Elliott found him first.

Elliott kissed affectionately down the hollow of James’s throat as James’s mind tried to process the sensation for the first time from a man. Did he like it? Was it similar to how it felt from a woman? James would’ve left him bruised and satisfied, trailing love bite marks where he went, if Elliott had been a woman. What should he do with another man? What did men like? James realized then how roughly he wanted to take him, but Elliott kissed him like he adored him.

It was how Elliott kissed everyone.

James realized his mistake. James had never made love before. He liked women that were commanding, scratching, clawing, as dominant as him. Women that he broke the bed with. He liked heavy-set women who weren’t shy of themselves, frisky, and vixenish on top of him. He liked lithe women with siren eyes and erotic flexibility. Hard sex was his preference.

James would’ve felt barbaric and brutal, if he ravaged him the way his body urged him to take Elliott.

On the other hand, Elliott clearly only ever made love. He preferred love that was gentle, reassuring, and emotionally bonded. He didn’t know how else to love someone.

James was thankful that this was their first and last time together. He didn’t want to alter Elliott as a person, if that’s what he liked.

James wasn’t the kind of man to murmur his feelings in bed. He didn’t want to tell Elliott he loved him or that any of this mattered.

He needed to hear that Elliott was fine if he was rougher with him.

As soon as he heard it, James guided Elliott’s head towards his pulsing, throbbing need. If only to keep him from murmuring sweet words to him.

When Elliott’s warm tongue ran over the slit of his tip, his erection twinged, and James almost came inside of his mouth. He clutched Elliott’s shirt and hair, restraining himself. Then he loosened his grip, cautious not to hurt him.

It perplexed him. It was the first time James Wilde was out of his element. He didn’t know how to handle Elliott.

Elliott was soft-hearted. He was more compassionate. How could they work out a way that satisfied both of them?

Elliott took him further in his mouth, and James resisted the impulse to thrust himself in deeper. His heavy exhalations picked up a breathy pace as Elliott sank in more of him. Elliott choked on the length of him. He coughed, and they laughed together. The tension eased.

It was both of their first time being with men. James was lengthier than he expected, with more girth, and neither of them were skilled as they fumbled around. That made it easier to experience each other.

Their fumbling, stumbling, and clumsy exploration was more rapturous than anything they’d felt in recent memory.

Before James could savor the euphoric ecstasy, he felt himself release between Elliott’s lips. He hadn’t meant to, but Elliott swallowed all the same. Elliott smiled afterward.

James’s mind was hazy, lost with him. He laid Elliott down on the mattress.

He wanted to taste Elliott’s ambrosia as Elliott had tasted him. “Are you alright?”

Elliott nodded, his eyelid hovering slightly as James touched the hem of his briefs. “Are you sure you want this with me?” James panted, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through his blood. He forced himself to concentrate. There were times Elliott did what someone else wanted him to do, if only it meant they would stay with him. James had crossed a thousand lines between them. He refused to take advantage of him.

“I want to.” Elliott was bathed in the late, sunlit air. He’d been in a windowless garage for months in rural Arkansas. “I really want to, James.”