Page 16 of Troy
Deciding to test the waters—is he purely a top or will I get a chance to fuck him? —I push my hands under his ass and lift him up. Shit, that’s a nice-looking hole. I run my tongue back down his balls and taint, getting closer to his puckered ring. Then Raff bends his legs and grabs his thighs, folding himself up, giving me perfect access to adore him. My finger follows my tongue as I lick and flick it over and over against his star.
Raising my head to focus on Raff, I find his eyes burning into mine, the heat and passion in them empowering. I get back to his ass and spit on his hole so my finger can slide in. The tight muscles clamp down as I push past, going deeper. One knuckle, then two, disappear inside him. Slowly, I drag it out again. Raff’s deep, guttural groan fills the room and I edge back in as my mouth returns to his glorious dick. Sucking him hard into my throat, my finger pumps inside his ass. Hitting the back of my throat, I add my middle finger; two fingers delve deep inside him in search of his hot spot, the tender point that will tip him over.
Driving my mouth up and down his cock, I suck harder each time. Then it happens: my fingers glide over his prostate, then stroke it again. Raff stiffens further and I know I’ve got him. He’s going to come.
Oh God, I have never felt anything like this. Why have I always topped and never had this feeling? My one experience as a bottom was so painful; I was unprepared and it was rough and hard and did nothing for me. The guy who took me was a senior at college when I was merely a freshman. I was fresh meat to him and he only cared about getting off. I never saw him again and I swore to never let that happen again. But the moment Troy’s tongue touches me there, I know this is different and so much better.
As his fingers stretch me and push deeper, I know what he is heading for and I want it. I want it so much. Shit, oh God, yes!
“Fuck, Troy, I’m gonna come.” My hands grip my thighs like a vice as he takes me to a level I never knew existed. I expect Troy to pull away but he takes me deeper into his throat and swallows around the head: my dream has nothing on this. As his fingers torture my gland I come, my hips punching forward, thrusting my dick into Troy’s hot, wet mouth. I pour my climax into his throat and mouth, unable to stop.
Troy pulls up to the tip of my dick as I continue to come and, when he slides off, my cum hits his lips and chin before his licks the head and swallows the last of me. Scraping his teeth over the sensitive tip, he smiles angelically. God, this man is gorgeous. His fingers slip out of my asshole and I feel empty without them, but the sensation makes me groan again. Releasing my shaking legs, I lower them back to the bed.
Troy sits on his heels between my trembling legs and, as I observe him, with the back of his hand he wipes the remainder of my cum from his chin before licking it away. His dark chocolate eyes gleam with mischief and smugness which makes me laugh.
“Shit, Troy; you’ve broken me. Christ, that was… crap, I don’t have the words; my brain isn’t functioning. Come here.” I pull him on top of me and claim his mouth. I can taste myself on him and I don’t give a shit. Stroking my tongue over his before sucking it into my mouth, Troy moans, his hands traveling up to my hair and holding on to my long and messy locks.
We lie still, a tangle of intertwined limbs. Troy sprawls between my legs, his head resting on my chest, and every so often drops kisses on my body. My hands fondle his platinum hair, sending little shivers through him as I stroke softly over the nape of his neck. I smile to myself, knowing I have found another sweet spot on his body. I could easily slip back into sleep.
A sudden loud ring startles us; Troy’s phone sounds from the bedside table. Lifting his head and looking over, he jumps to attention.
“Shit! Fuck! Raff, we’re late. C’mon, we need to shower and get out of here.” Troy wriggles out of my arms and legs, his hand reaching out to pull me upright. “I can’t believe I didn’t look at the time. I’m sorry, honey, you’ve got your meeting and I haven’t let you prep. Look, you go and shower and I’ll get the coffee on: we’ll have to take it with us. Crap, you need to sort out Boss, too.”
Chuckling, I watch one of the most up and coming businessmen in the US flapping around like a fool. “Troy, baby. You are in that meeting, it’s not going to start without you. Chill, first, call Nico and let him know we are running late; second, get the shower started because we both need one and we can do it together. And third, you are so fucking cute when you worry. So, come here and kiss me.”
It’s me who ends up walking to him as he enters his bathroom, “Troy, would you relax? Please, baby, it’s alright; we will be there soon enough.” Moving in behind him, I put my hand on the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down before making him step out of them. Then, shifting around to lead him into the large open shower, I turn on the water. Nudging him under the hot spray, I watch as the water cascades over his body.
“It’s my turn now, baby.” I kiss him leisurely, shifting from his mouth to his chin and down his neck, dropping soft kisses on the tender places I know he likes. My hands stroke his back and his butt, kneading the firm globes. My hips bump against his, letting my semi rub against his rapidly hardening cock. I love the noises he makes in the back of his throat as my lips travel from his collar bone to his pecs. A finger soothes up and down his crack; I’m in no rush. Even if we have somewhere to be, I want to take my time tasting him.
My eyes latch on to the tattoo across his heart. I don’t know what language it is; I assume it’s Italian, knowing Franco’s nationality.
Picking up on the word ‘amore’, I think that’s well-known to mean love. This permanent reminder of a love that was ripped away from him suddenly makes me insecure. How can I ever take the place of Franco De’ath?
Troy opens his eyes and finds me staring at the writing on his chest. “Raff?”
My eyes lift and recognize the concern in his eyes. Unsure of what to say, I stay silent. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, a nervous habit I never could to stop. It would drive my father crazy, even if he was the cause of my habit.
“Rafferty, don’t look at it like that. Please, honey.” Concern colors his eyes.
“I can’t compete, can I? I won’t ever be to you what he was.” Hearing the tremor in my voice, I know Troy will pick up on it, too.
“Raff, it isn’t a competition. I can’t take the past away, but what I’m feeling for you is as real as it ever was with him. Please, Raff, don’t let his memory cloud your mind. I want this. I want you.” Troy leans in and kisses my mouth, a gentle kiss that quickly deepens and intensifies.
I can’t; I can’t take this any further right now. Passion and desire have left me. All I can see is the candid photograph of a broken Troy standing at a grave. “You’re right, Troy; we’re going to be late.” I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist as I get out of the bathroom. I pick up my shorts and exit his room, heading down to my own. Ha, it’s not my room. I think I’ll to have to find somewhere else to stay. Then it hits me. I can’t accept this position; I can’t work this close to a man I can’t ever have to myself.
Not even the sight of my dog completely occupying the giant bed raises a smile. I head to the closet and take my clothes off the hanger—a simple, charcoal grey, tailored suit and a deep violet shirt and tie—then return it and grab a pair of well-worn, black jeans and a grey, button down shirt. There’s no point dressing up for an interview that’s not going to take place. No, fuck it! I want him and I want this job. Yes, I feel insecure but maybe he does, too. There’s only one way to find out and that’s to stick it out.
When I turn around Troy stands in front of me, eyes ablaze and lips pressed into a narrow, tense line. “You don’t get to walk away from me, Rafferty, that’s not fair. I don’t know what I can do or say to make you believe me. You are not in the shadow of my past, you are not in competition with someone no longer around. You are all I can think about; you are a difficult, stubborn, frustrating and irascible man.” His volume increases as he speaks but he doesn’t shout. A flash of fury crosses his face as I smile at him. “Don’t you dare fucking smile at me, I am so pissed with you. Because, as much as you are all of those things and more, you are also beautiful, funny, sexy, and so damn well mine!”
“You do realize you’re naked, don’t you?” I answer affectionately, letting my eyes roam over his beautiful body—including his tattoo.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have much time before you decided to do runner.”
My eyes narrow when I realize he’s right.
“See, I know you already. Now, get here. We are so damn late now, we might as well carry on with what you started in the shower.” Troy’s hand strokes his cock and I watch with a gleam in my eye as he hardens in front of me.
“Let me do the honors, baby.” I kneel in front of him and knock his hand aside as I take his length in my mouth. Twirling my tongue over and around the head, I hum my enjoyment as he hardens further. Troy’s hands delve into my hair, holding me tight as he takes control. I give him a moment and then take charge. His taste is better than I could ever have imagined and I quickly use all my skills to bring him to climax. By the sounds of his cries, as he pours himself down my throat, I think I got it right.
Wrapping my arms around his thighs, I keep him upright when his knees buckle as he shudders through the last of his orgasm.
“Shit, Raff. Wow.” Troy’s ragged voice makes me chuckle as I bury my head in his groin.
Then, with a sharp crack of my hand on his ass, I jump up and drop a kiss on his mouth, “Go get dressed, baby; I need to make myself look respectable.”
Troy laughs as he saunters away but it’s me who laughs the loudest when I see the red hand-shaped print glowing on his cheek, “That looks good on you, baby.” He flips me the finger in reply.