Page 35 of Love by Design (Club Rapture: Risk Aware #1)

SILAS

T here was something intensely erotic about having Marshall between my legs.

With his shirt on and undone, his belt out of the loops but nowhere close to being open enough to get his pants off…

I shoved my laptop as far away as I could manage, and then he had my cock and balls out, the elastic waistband tucked beneath them.

He made a bit of a show of rubbing his cheek up the length of my shaft, letting his lips drag across my hot skin as I got hard embarrassingly fast.

“Mr. Covington.”

The words caught in my throat, and the look he gave me, glancing up from beneath the fan of his light brown lashes as he slid my briefs down my legs and off was almost enough to make me come on the spot.

“Yes, Silas?” he asked, running a line up the length of my cock with the tip of his nose.

“I…I don’t know.”

“What do you want ?”

His breath puffed warm against my balls. It felt unreasonable for me to tell him what I wanted, but he’d asked and that was the point of this relationship. Wasn’t it? It was only that I’d dreamed about this for weeks and how it was only seconds away from happening.

“I want you to suck my cock,” I said.

Marshall curled his fingers around the base of my dick in a painfully loose grip.

He slid from root to tip, a groan leaving his throat when his fingers expanded to the point of barely touching around the swollen thickness of the middle of my shaft.

He’d asked me once if I topped, and never again, which I did appreciate.

With my other partners there’d always been an expectation I’d give in eventually and change my mind, the implication that not being a top was a waste.

Marshall had never given that impression.

“How do you like to have your cock sucked?” He cupped my balls with his free hand, and a shudder tore through my whole body.

“I…I like when it’s wet,” I admitted. “I like when it’s loud.”

“You like to hear your partners choking on it?”

Arousal tangled tight and low in my belly. “Yes, but also just…noisy.”

“So you know they’re enjoying it?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered, clearing my throat and remembering his earlier ask. “Yes, Mr. Covington.”

Marshall hummed, smiling up at me with a very dangerous heat. “You can come in my mouth, Silas. But I expect a warning.”

“Yes, Mr. Coving?—”

The rest of the words were lost because Marshall’s mouth sealed around the tip of my dick and everything went white.

He swirled his tongue around my flared crown, welling spit up in his mouth and letting it slide down my shaft like a waterfall.

It pooled on my sac and slid down farther, slicking my crack.

Marshall took advantage of that, using his fingers to tease my hole while he worked his way down my shaft.

His teeth grazed against the skin, and I bucked off the bed with a desperate little whine that I almost didn’t even recognize as my own.

It was far from the first time I’d had my dick sucked, but watching Marshall do it was definitely a brand new experience for me.

At my noises, he flicked a stare up at me, stretching to get more inches into his mouth.

There was no way he was going to make it past the middle of my shaft, and once he realized it, he set a wet and sloppy rhythm from there to the tip and back down again that immediately ticked every box of everything I liked in a blow job.

Sliding one finger into my ass, Marshall hummed and moaned around my cock, and I had to fist the sheets to stop from grabbing his hair and lifting off the bed to fuck into his mouth.

Propping myself up on my elbows so I could watch every second was a mistake. The sight of Marshall between my legs, fully dressed and humping the bed while he choked himself with my cock was too much for me to handle.

“Mr. Covington,” I forced out his name, resting a hand on the top of his head in case he didn’t hear me. “Mr. Covington, you’re going to make me come.”

In response, he let more spit wet my shaft and he made another attempt to get closer to my base.

The tight squeeze as he choked around me sent me freefalling over the edge.

I arched off the bed, making sure to grab the bed instead of him, and with a rasping cry, I came.

Hot jets of cum shot against the roof of his mouth, his tongue, and his answering sounds were that of a starving man who’d finally been fed.

Marshall drank down every drop of my cum, keeping his mouth sealed around my shaft until I went soft.

And once the blood had fled to other parts of my body, Marshall managed to tuck my entire length into his mouth.

Exhaling against the curly hairs that lined the base of my shaft, he hollowed his cheeks and sucked me hard , then lifted off entirely and rocked back onto his heels .

“Holy shit,” I muttered, vision still white and glittering around the edges.

He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then we both looked down at the erection tenting the fly of his slacks, the dark wet spot bleeding through the fabric.

“You taste as good as I knew you would,” he said.

“That was…thank you.”

The tip of his tongue darted out, either worrying the corner of his mouth or licking the taste of me away, I wasn’t certain.

“You never have to thank me for that.” Marshall climbed off the bed and finished undressing, the sight of his hard cock almost enough to bring mine back to life on sight. “It might be my new favorite way to reward you.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“As much as I would like to tie you spreadeagle to this bed now and fuck you until I can’t even remember my own name, I did say your new job deserved a celebration.”

“Consider myself celebrated.” I scooted to an upright position, then onto my knees.

“I want to take you to dinner.”

“Are you asking?”

Marshall made a very unimpressed sound in the back of his throat. “Not in the slightest. Come clean off with me and then get dressed.”

My legs wobbled when I stood, but Marshall held out his hand to me and helped me to the shower. He washed us both with a surgical precision, paying no more attention than necessary to my half-hard cock. After rinsing, he toweled us both off and instructed me to get dressed in something nice.

I still didn’t have many clothes at his house, but I’d gone home earlier in the day to get a few things because I was at Marshall’s more often than not. Doing the best I could with a pair of black slacks and a white button-up, I sat down on the edge of the bed to deal with my socks and shoes.

After I was dressed, Marshall emerged from the closet in a pair of navy slacks and a pastel pink button-up. He was busy fussing with the cuffs, his feet bare and his hair still damp from the shower.

“Silas,” he said, not looking up. “Get my socks and shoes from the closet.”

He’d already set out a pair of dark blue socks and brown oxfords, and I brought both things into the bedroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed in the place I’d earlier occupied, his legs spread and his hands resting comfortably on the tops of his thighs.

He didn’t even have to ask. He simply extended one of his feet toward me, and immediately I went to my knees.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Hmn?” I looked up at him, rucking up the sock to get it onto his foot easier. He had big feet with long toes, smooth knuckles with a dusting of dark hair on the first two.

“Your brow.” He reached forward and stroked his finger up from my nose toward my forehead.

“Nothing.” I relaxed my face and quickly shook my head to clear it. “I just…didn’t know this was something I liked before you.”

“Maybe you didn’t like it before me. Maybe this is something special just for us.”

There was a lot more to unpack with that comment than I think he realized, and as I put his other sock on and loosened the laces of his shoes, I thought hard about it.

I knew people like that, who were only into things with their current—or former—partner.

Feet weren’t something I’d ever even thought of before Marshall, but as I slipped one foot into its respective shoe and then the other, I didn’t imagine I’d think of them after him either.

I didn’t want there to be an after Marshall .

“There you go again,” he said softly, reaching for the knot between my eyebrows. “What are you thinking about now?”

“It’s embarrassing,” I said.

“I didn’t ask how it made you feel.” Marshall trailed his hand down my face until he had my chin in a grip barely on the gentle side of punishing. “I asked what you were thinking about, Silas.”

I recognized an order when I heard one, and I recognized the flush in my cheeks when I felt it.

“I was thinking about how I didn’t want there to be an after,” I admitted.

He lifted one of his feet and brought it down between my legs, a gentle pressure against my cock, his fingers still warm and solid against my face.

“Who said anything about an after?” he asked.

I blinked hard, shaking my head. “It was just a thought.”

“Are you not happy with me, Silas? Not fulfilled?”

“It’s not like that, Sir,” I whispered. “That’s not how I meant it.”

He hummed, pressing his foot down slightly on my cock, just until I gasped and leaned toward him…somehow asking for more and less at the same time.

“One of the things I admire about you is how you always look to the future.” He stroked his thumb across the hollow of my cheek. “But with me, you don’t have to.”

Spit knotted into something hard to swallow in the back of my throat.

“Why not?” I managed to ask. “Why not, Sir? Mr. Covington?”

“You’re here now,” he answered. “I’m here now.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I blinked back an uninvited onslaught of burning hot tears. Was that all this was? A series of moments with no hope for anything beyond the present ?

“Hey.” Marshall tapped my cheek, took his foot off my cock. “Where are you right now?”

“Are you going to be here then?” I asked. “Am I? In the future?”

“Oh, Silas.” Marshall slid off the bed, hauled me onto his lap and kissed the top of my head. “Now is every moment, in the moment. We’re already in the future, and it’s our now. The now is where we live and it’s where I’ll always find you.”

“Please don’t make me cry,” I muttered into his shoulder.

Marshall chuckled, kissed the top of my head, and lifted me to my feet.

He sat me down on the bed, brought my shoes between us, and slipped my feet into them, the same way I’d already done for him more than once.

After tying up the laces, he prostrated himself and pressed soft kisses against the toes of my shoes, then rocked back onto his heels.

We were almost eye level, almost equal.

“I am in love with you, Silas,” he said, words carefully chosen and strong in their delivery. Each one landed between us, stacking together to build a foundation I never understood I’d wanted until Marshall had offered it to me. “Before. Then. But most importantly now.”

“You…”

“I love you,” he said again. “It might be too soon. My brother would most certainly think so, but I know how I feel when I’m with you, when I’m not with you.”

“I…” I looked up toward the ceiling to stop the earlier tears from falling.

“This doesn’t need to be tit for tat. You don’t have to feel the same way I feel.”

“Sir.”

With a groan, Marshall pushed up onto his feet and held his hand out for me. I let him help me up, then I stared down at our feet, at our fancy shoes that neither of us had managed to get into on our own .

“I love you,” he said again, barely louder than a whisper. Brushing his fingers across my cheek, he tipped my head back and pressed our mouths together.

The kiss was gentle at first, unsure, and then he dragged his tongue across the seam of my lips in question, and I opened for him.

Marshall groaned into me, a sound so deep it rattled my bones, and he cradled the back of my head with his hand so he had enough leverage to deepen the kiss.

Weakly, with trembling fingers, I grabbed him by the hips to steady myself, and then I gave myself over to him entirely.

I knew he’d cut me off because he thought I didn’t love him back, but such a thing couldn’t have been further from the truth.

I hardly knew Marshall, and I was violently in love with him.

So much so, I didn’t even have the words to tell him in a way that made sense.

To make up for it, I tried to move my tongue around his in a way that made sense, a way that would let him know the feelings he’d shared with me were so much more than mutual.

It must have worked because after he ended the kiss, he traced his fingertips across my kiss-swollen lips with stars in his eyes.

Marshall took my hand in his, kissed my knuckles.

“We have a celebration to get to.”

“Sir.”

He was one step toward the door, his body still turned toward me like he wasn’t quite ready to put the required space between us to facilitate us getting to this celebration dinner he’d promised me.

“Silas.”

I wanted to tell him I loved him back because it was the truth. He knew it, I could tell by his eyes, but there was something to the words of it and I wanted him to have that. But the words were still a tightly wound, wrongly shaped knot in the back of my throat.

He smiled at me then, and it didn’t look sad .

“Dinner, Silas,” he said, giving me a pull toward the door.

“We need to go because I have plenty more planned for you, and I’d like to get to bed before tomorrow.

” The corner of his mouth tipped into a smirk.

“Some of us have to get up for work. We don’t all have the luxury of lazing around naked in bed. ”