Page 8 of Ice & Sweet

CHAPTER EIGHT

Luke

Oh my fucking God, I was kissing André. And it was just as fucking good as I’d always imagined.

Better even.

Because none of my fantasies or daydreams had included how amazing André smelt, or the way his lips tasted like red wine and brandy, or how perfect it felt being pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around me, making me feel safe and wanted all at once. I’d always hoped he might be queer, but at times it had felt like trying to hold a candle in the middle of a storm. The way he’d flirted with me, though—determined and awkward all at once—had made my chest flutter and my dick ache in my jeans.

I’d been so glad there hadn’t been many people left at the bar because it was pretty obvious that I was sporting a hard-on and I really didn’t want anyone commenting on it.

We broke the kiss as the lift came to a smooth stop, the door pinging open to reveal the short third-floor corridor with its plush carpet and soft décor that I’d noticed earlier but not really seen. All I knew was that our rooms were at the end and our doors right next to each other.

André slipped his hand into mine and tugged me out of the lift, my feet obeying without question, which was good because my brain was still stuck on the heat of his palm and the feel of his fingers. I wondered if he would notice how dry my skin was and the raised patches of smooth skin where I’d burned myself on oven shelves and cooling sugar.

My hands were a map of all the skills I’d learnt over the last few years and a love letter to my journey as a baker—from the first time I’d tried to make caramel to the time I’d failed to cut the end off of a piping bag without looking were written into my skin, along with at least fifty other failures, accidents, and what I generously termed learning experiences so I didn’t sound like a completely incompetent prat.

I didn’t know why I was suddenly self-conscious about them, but if André had been expecting me to still have an actor’s body, he’d be sorely disappointed. I was such a different person to the one I’d been all those years ago when we’d hung out on tour and at parties. That life felt like it had existed in another universe, as if it was a strange dream, and the Luke Yang that lived there didn’t belong in our world.

“Have you got your card?” André asked, pulling me against him and breathing the words into my ear. They sent a shiver running through me and quickly melted away my thoughts. If there was anyone who’d understand all the changes I’d been through and how different my life was, it was André. And if he wanted me, then I wasn’t going to question it.

“Yeah.” I reached into the back pocket of my jeans and pulled out the keycard, sliding it into the lock on my door and waiting for the green light to flash. As André threw the door open, I was glad I’d had the forethought to vaguely unpack my shit properly when I’d come upstairs earlier so at least the room didn’t look like my suitcase had exploded across it. And it meant I knew exactly where my lube and condoms were so I didn’t have to go digging around in two different bags while panicking that I’d left them in London.

I pulled André inside, letting the door close softly on its hinges behind us before I pressed myself against him, fingers digging into the front of his jumper. He was so fucking gorgeous that for a second I forgot how to breathe. Then his hand came up to cup my jaw and draw me in for another kiss, and the feel of his lips kick-started my brain with ten thousand volts of electricity.

“How do you want this?” he asked, barely pulling back. His words ran like hot liquid down my spine, making me melt into his touch. “Do you have a preference?”

“I need you to fuck me,” I said. “Please, André. It’s been months and I’m desperate and horny. Take pity on me?”

“Oh, sweet thing, I’m not going to pity you. I’m going to make you realise you’ve been waiting for me.”

Jesus fucking Christ. With a mouth like that, André was going to destroy me. I couldn’t fucking wait.

“Get naked and get on the bed. Show off that beautiful ass for me.”

I moaned and began throwing off my clothes as fast as possible, not giving a flying fuck where they hit the floor. It wasn’t like it would be difficult to find everything later. I threw a wink at André as I slid my underwear off, very glad I’d remembered to put my tightest, cutest pair on even if he’d only seen them for a few seconds. But from the groan he’d made when I kicked off my jeans, it seemed like he’d appreciated them.

“Your turn,” I said with a smirk as I strolled over to the bed, stopping only to grab my lube and condoms out of my suitcase. Then I put them on the bed and climbed on, stretching out before rolling back on all fours facing the head of the bed, turning my head to the side so I could watch him.

André hadn’t moved. His eyes were still fixed on me, mouth slightly open, like he was watching all his fantasies come true.

Maybe he was. I could dream after all.

“I’m waiting,” I said, pushing my ass into the air as I stretched again. “I thought you wanted to fuck me?”

“I’m sorry.” There was a dangerously soft note in his voice as he began to undress. André had always seemed so sweet, but I wondered what lurked beneath the surface waiting to be unleashed. “I was just appreciating the art in front of me.”

I felt myself flush, resisting the urge to bury my face in the pillow. Praise and compliments had always had a way of turning me into jelly, and when they came from the lips of the man I’d been dreaming about for the last seven years? How could I not melt?

“Do you like that, darling?” he whispered as he crossed the room, stopping beside the bed. He’d shrugged off his jumper and shirt, leaving him in just a pair of dark jeans that hugged his thighs. His body was toned, but he wasn’t as lean as he had been in his Underground Dreaming days. In fact, he looked healthier now, with muscles that clearly came from hours of dance practice rather than calorie control and hours in the gym. “When I tell you how beautiful you are? How much I want you?”

I nodded, my fingers balling in the sheets, knuckles almost white. “Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to keep telling you. Because you’re gorgeous, Luke, and I want you to know that.”

A needy whimper bubbled up in my throat, sliding out of my lips before I had a chance to stop it. André smiled as he reached for the button on his jeans, popping them open before pushing them over his hips, leaving him in just a pair of skintight black trunks. He was still wearing his glasses, but as I watched him, he carefully removed them and set them on the bedside table.

“One more thing before we start,” he said. “It’s up to you if we use condoms or not. I had a test a couple of weeks ago, when I…” He trailed off and I assumed he’d broken up with yet another partner that was never going to be good enough for him. “Anyway, it was negative. It’s completely up to you, though. I know some people prefer them and it doesn’t bother me.”

“Let’s go bare,” I said, the thought of being flooded with André’s cum making my cock twitch and drip. “I’m negative too and the last time I got laid was… a while ago.” I chuckled self-deprecatingly while resisting the urge to hide my blushing face. “I told you I worked too much.”

“Don’t worry, baby. Let me take care of you tonight.”

He stripped off his underwear and climbed onto the bed beside me, but instead of kneeling behind me, he gently pushed me down and rolled me over. Then he started kissing me. And I wasn’t sure I’d be capable of thought ever again.

André kissed like it was an art form, his lips and tongue carving patterns into my skin that I’d never recover from. He drew whimpers and whines from me like he was writing a symphony, one that was only for his ears. And then he encouraged me to do the same to him, allowing me to explore the planes of his body with my tongue, mapping it out as he guided me to exactly where he wanted me.

I’d been expecting something quick and dirty, but this had ended up slow and almost sensual. We’d been waiting for so long, it seemed like both of us wanted to make the most of it in case it never happened again.

André groaned as I kissed the head of his cock, taking it slowly into my mouth and worshipping him root to tip until saliva dripped down his skin. His precum burst across my tongue, making my own dick weep onto the sheets. And just when I thought I might be drawing him to the edge, he slid his fingers into my hair and pulled me up and off his cock, kissing me deeply before rolling me off him and settling between my legs.

He reached for the lube, which was still resting on the bed next to us, but before I could see what he did next, he leant down and wrapped his lips around my cock. Pleasure engulfed me as he licked and sucked me, taking me apart leisurely with his mouth until I didn’t even know where I ended and the bed began.

I was vaguely aware of the click of the bottle of lube, but all I could do was whine when André pulled off my cock and gently tipped me over until I was stretched out face down on the bed. And if I’d thought I was a mess before, it was nothing compared to the feeling that fucking overwhelmed me when he pulled my cheeks apart and began to eat my hole with what could only be described as reverence.

“F-Fuck,” I said with a groan, pushing back against his face and trying to ride his tongue. But he just put his hand on the small of my back, holding me in place as he feasted. “André! Please! I can’t!” I was practically sobbing, so overwhelmed with pleasure I could barely focus. My cock ached and I tried to rock my hips to get some friction against the sheets.

“I told you I’d take care of you, darling,” he said as he began to gently finger me open, slowly working up to three fingers as I practically begged for more.

No, there was no practically about it. I was begging.

And when André finally ceased his decadent torment, he gently pushed my thighs wider and lined his cock up with my hole, slowly sliding inside me and pinning me against the sheets until all thought left me, leaving only pleasure humming across my skin.

I couldn’t even form words. I could only gasp and moan as he fucked me deep and slow, his cock thrusting across my prostate with every roll and grind of his hips. His balls brushed against my ass and I groaned as I realised just how fucking deep he was. It felt so fucking good, like I was being taken apart from the inside out.

His hands rested either side of my shoulders and I slid my fingers into his, clutching him tightly as he pressed soft kisses to my shoulders and whispered praise in my ear. “You’re so beautiful, Luke,” he murmured. “I’ve never met someone so gorgeous. You feel so perfect on my cock, baby. So tight, so hot… fuck, baby, I could stay here forever. But I can’t wait to make you come for me, know you’re going to sound so good.”

“Yes!” I cried out, squeezing his hands tighter. “Please let me come!”

“Of course you can,” he said, thrusting deep and making my eyes roll back. “Whenever you want. Is this enough or do you need to touch yourself? Or do you want me to do it?”

Fuck, there were too many questions. Too many options.

But I had just enough sense to pull one hand from his and reach under myself, wrapping my fingers around my cock. I couldn’t pump it, but the pressure was enough to send my orgasm barrelling towards me, need and desperation filling every inch of me as I moaned and begged for more.

“So beautiful for me,” André whispered. “Not going to last much longer. Can you come for me, Luke? Can you do that for me, my love?”

And with those words, I shattered.