Page 40 of Provoked
David had wondered what Balfour would look like, under the clothes. If he’d be hairy or smooth. If he’d be as hard and well-honed as David imagined, or if he’d carry a little fat beneath his severely cut clothes.
As Balfour was gradually revealed, David’s heart pounded and his breath came faster. His eyes roamed hungrily over the man’s big, powerful frame and long, lean muscles—there was not a bit of fat on him. He discovered too that Balfour had a light dusting of hair across his chest, and that the trail of hair narrowed as it travelled down his belly before flaring again around his long, thick cock. The man looked like a warrior, powerful and proud. He seemed unembarrassed by his nudity, and no wonder. Being naked didn’t put him at the slightest disadvantage. He still towered over David, still stood before him with the confidence of a general about to command an army. It made David wonder what Balfour would think of David’s body when he saw it. Of his slight, wiry frame.
The pained reticence David felt at the thought of revealing himself was a sharp contrast to how he felt looking at Balfour. He itched with the desire to touch the other man, to explore him and discover the scents and textures of his skin, even as he forced himself to keep his hands by his sides. The thought of asking Balfour if he could touch him… Well, he couldn’t.
“You now,” Balfour said, reaching for him. “Come. I’ll help you.”
No one had undressed David since he was a child. It felt strange to have another’s hands unfastening the buttons of his coat. Strange and exciting.
His coat wasn’t so difficult to remove as Balfour’s, not having been tailored to a skintight fit against his body. It slid easily from his arms and dropped to the floor while Balfour reached for more intimate articles.
Balfour did it all, all the unbuttoning, untying and drawing away of the layers of David’s clothing. David shivered at the hot eagerness in the other man’s eyes and the light, brushing touch of his hands as he slowly worked. The man’s unashamed passion for his task was unsettling, but it heated David too, a strange mingling of lust and shame.
At last, David was as naked as Balfour himself. He stood before Balfour, feeling deeply vulnerable. The only man he’d ever been fully naked in front of before was William, and that had been entirely innocent. Naked swimming in the burn in Midlauder, when they were little more than boys with narrow, hairless chests.
This was very different.
Balfour seemed gratifyingly pleased with what he saw. His eyes moved over David with restless admiration. He lifted a hand and stroked David’s hair. “Such an unusual colour.”
“Red hair isn’t so uncommon,” David murmured.
“It’s not the ordinary sort of red hair. It’s dark, like old copper. Is that why you don’t have freckles? And your skin is like marble.” He curved his palms around the apples of David’s shoulders, pulling him close enough for their bodies to touch, at last. It was such a relief that David couldn’t suppress a soft moan, and Balfour’s eyes glittered, enjoying David’s reaction.
“I could do this standing up, here and now,” he muttered. “But I want to take my time. Come on.”
He took David’s hand in his own, the clasp of his palm against David’s warm and strong, and drew him into the bedchamber, leading him to the bed.
“Lie down,” Balfour said, his voice husky. “On your back.”
Mouth dry with anticipation, heart pounding with mingled excitement and fear, David did as he was bid. The fire that burned in the grate made the room warm enough that David was able to lie naked atop the bedcovers. The caress of the silken fabric against his naked back was a hedonistic pleasure.
“Spread your legs,” Balfour murmured, leaning over David’s body to look into his eyes.
“I can’t,” David whispered, his whole body seizing up, his hands covering his groin automatically.
Balfour smiled slowly. “Yes, you can. Let me make you feel good. Let me suck you.”
And God, but the thought of that sinful mouth swallowing him down was all David needed, apparently, to settle his immediate fears. His hands melted away and his legs shifted apart, and soon Balfour was squirming his way down the bed, settling himself between David’s thighs.
Was he really going to—
Oh Christ!
The sensation of David’s cock being engulfed in Balfour’s mouth, almost to the root, made him shout with pleasure. It wasn’t that it was an entirely new experience, though he’d more often been the giver than the receiver of this particular pleasure, but it was the first time he’d been taken into a man’s mouth with such patient and consummate skill. Balfour didn’t just suck him, he worked David’s shaft with his tongue and lips, grazed it with his teeth—a snagging, wonderful feeling, that—and he touched David’s balls with knowing fingertips, caressing and gently squeezing.
Staring down at Balfour’s dark head as the man pleasured him with such care, David felt the oddest bolt of—what was it? Something powerful. Maybe gratitude, though it was bigger than that. He didn’t dwell on the thought, though; he simply wasn’t able to. The sensations in his cock and balls, the building up of his crisis deep inside him, were far too consuming to permit him to think about anything else.
David had been propped up on his elbows, watching Balfour work, but as the man dipped his head to swallow fully the length of David’s cock, David’s arms gave out, and he collapsed onto his back with a helpless cry of pleasure. He could come right now, but so long as Balfour was willing to keep doing this, it seemed madness to stop him.
It was then he felt Balfour’s fingers graze the crack of his arse. Balfour’s mouth was still doing its work, but his hand had definitely moved lower, and David shifted his hips, half rejecting, half encouraging. Just the lightest of touches this, yet the bolt of forbidden pleasure it gave him was intense.
The touching became firmer, and David made a noise of protest deep in his throat, shifting again. Balfour pulled his mouth off David’s cock in a long, luscious stroke and looked up at David.
“Don’t you like me touching you there?”
“I—I’ve never allowed anyone—” David broke off, mesmerised by Balfour’s playful smile.
“Will you allow me?” Balfour asked softly. “I want to touch you there so very badly. Let me.”