Page 40 of Someone to Call My Own

“A soft bed would be my first pick,” Emory replied. “But if we can’t make it to the top, it’s going to be your ass sitting on the hardwood steps, not mine.”

I sucked in a sharp breath at an image of me sitting on the polished staircase while Emory rode me. I promised myself that I would make that vision a reality someday. “It would be my pleasure.”

“That bed looks like heaven,” Emory said when we finally reached my room. “Oh, I bet that view is amazing,” he said, gesturing to the wall of windows opposite the bed.

“Stick around and find out.”

Emory swallowed hard but didn’t respond. I saw the confliction in his eyes. He wanted to stay but was afraid. I reminded myself to be patient and take what he could give me.For now.

I released Emory’s hand when we reached the bed and pulled back the covers for him to climb in while I discarded the condom in the trash can and wiped my spent cock with tissues. I would’ve preferred to take a shower, but I could tell every ounce of energy Emory had was depleted by the two orgasms I gave him. I didn’t want to risk the chance that he’d sneak out if I showered alone either.

I climbed into the bed beside Emory and was surprised when he turned to me and lay his head on my shoulder after I turned off the lamp on the bedside table. I ran my fingers through his short hair and wished for the hundredth time that he hadn’t cut it. One day, I would work up the nerve to ask him to grow it long again for me, but we weren’t at that phase yet.

Emory was so quiet that I thought he’d fallen asleep. I closed my eyes and let my fatigue move in so I could get some shut-eye. Just before I fell asleep, Emory moved his hand and placed it over my beating heart.

“Maybe someday,” Emory whispered sleepily.

My eyes popped open in the darkness, and my mind immediately began processing the possibilities of his words. Did Emory think he could love me someday? Damn, I was desperate to cling to that hope but too scared to chance it. For all I knew, he could’ve been talking in his sleep. My eyes grew heavy, and I gave up trying to sort out what he meant.

Just ask him in the morning.

I knew I was alone in the house when I opened my eyes the next morning. Years of training made it possible for me to analyze my surroundings immediately, even seconds after waking up out of dead sleep. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so hard. “Or so long,” I said looking at the angle of the sunbeams shining through the window. “Fuck, it must be ten o’clock or later.”

I threw back the covers and headed into the shower to wash the dried cum off my cock and balls. I had wanted to start my day showering with Emory, but it looked like he returned to Blissville without waking me. The hopefulness I had felt the previous night washed down the drain with the soap I rinsed off my body.

How long had he stayed? An hour? Five? Or did he bolt as soon as I fell asleep? I swallowed hard and ignored the pity party for one I wanted to throw in the marble and glass shower. I knew what the hell I got myself into and had no one to blame but myself. I stood beneath the spray, hoping the hot water would soothe the tension in my body, but it didn’t.

A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye got my attention. I used my hand to wipe a circle of condensation off the inside glass door and saw Emory sitting on the vanity buck-ass naked sipping a cup of coffee.Maybe my skills are a little rusty.Emory set the coffee cup down then raised his legs and propped his heels on the edge of the vanity. He slowly spread his legs then reached between them to tease his hole with the middle finger from his left hand while he lazily stroked his cock with the right.

I opened the door and said, “Get in here.”

Emory smiled and shook his head before he pushed his finger inside his pucker. Damn it, that wasmyjob. I exited the shower with it still running and dropped to my knees in front of the vanity, not caring about the water I dripped all over the floor. Emory smiled wickedly as if that was what he wanted all along.

Am I still dreaming?Did I die and go to heaven?

It didn’t matter because everything I wanted was right in front of me. I pushed Emory’s hands out of the way and took over by sliding my middle finger deep inside him and swallowed his cock to the back of my throat. Emory braced his hands on top of the black marble vanity and pushed up on his heels so that his ass lifted a few inches in the air.

I could tell that he wanted to take control so he could fuck my mouth, and I wanted to let him. I tightened my lips, relaxed my throat, and let Emory have his way with me. He gripped my hair at the front of my head and thrust his hips forward fast and hard, grunting as he chased his orgasm. My mouth and throat ached from the pounding they took, but tears of pure pleasure burned my eyes.

Emory’s cock drooled profusely, his pre-cum telling me how much he liked taking control of me. My dick begged and ached for relief, so I reached down and stroked myself in rhythm with the pace Emory set.

“Fuck yes,” Emory moaned. “So fucking good, Jon. Are you going to swallow me down? I saw the greedy way you licked your fingers last night. You want more?”

I nodded the best I could with a mouthful of cock. Emory pumped his hips harder, gripped my hair tighter, as he gave into his body’s release. He pulled out at the last minute, and his salty essence splashed on my tongue, nose, lips, and chin. Emory lowered his legs back down and watched me jack myself. The triumphant look on his face had the same effect on me as if he’d squeezed my ball sac. I blew my load all over the marble floor then collapsed my head against Emory’s thigh while I tried to catch my breath.

The room felt like it was spinning; I wondered once again if I was dreaming. If so, I didn’t want to wake up.

“Can you stand?” Was that arrogant pride I detected? “I could use a shower and some more sleep before I head home.”

I didn’t want Emory to leave but decided to accept the little victory I’d won when he not only stayed the night with me but initiated oral sex. “Where were you when I woke up? I couldn’t sense you.”

“Sense me?” he asked.

I rose from the floor, and Emory slid off the vanity. “I usually have stellar senses and can tell when I’m alone in a building or detect the presence of someone else.” It came in handy when engaging in battle, including the battle of wills waging between us.

“Maybe your skills are getting rusty from misuse,” Emory teased.

“Maybe you weren’t inside the house,” I countered.