Doing my best to listen to him, I let them slide down his pecs and over his nipples that pebbled under my touch. I kept moving downward over his toned physique until I reached his waistband. In my nervousness, I struggled with unfastening them, so he stopped me in order to remove his boots, socks, and pants.
It left him in a pair of black briefs with an impressive bulge. The sight filled me with conflicting desires and fears, but I couldn’t resist reaching out and cupping his arousal in my hand. It scrambled my brain, but my hands reached out to lower his underwear to bare all of him before my eyes.
I took it as a good sign that his erection didn’t fill me with disgust. Instead, it piqued my curiosity since I had never seen another man’s dick or an uncircumcised one up close before.
Armand surprised me by getting into bed and stretching out on his back as he made himself comfortable on top of the comforter. He gestured for me to join him, which seemed to flip the switch on my autopilot to comply with his wishes.
I stripped out of my pajama bottoms and tried not to self-consciously cover myself. “Um, where should I sit?”
“Here.” He guided me to straddle over him, making me blush when our cocks brushed against each other. “Do whatever feels good.”
I started with kissing him, something that was becoming familiar and beloved. As I lost myself in his lips and tongue, my desire roared into a five-alarm fire. It burned my reservations into ash as I gave myself over to the moment and acted on instinct. Taking a pause to collect myself, I inspected Armand. It was a relief he didn’t have rippling abs and bulging muscles, but he was still fit compared to my softness. Before I could get self-conscious about it, I noticed a long, diagonal scar near his hip that had silvered with age. It compelled me to touch it, tracing the length that had a hint of roughness. I had been too distracted earlier to notice it when removing his shirt. “What happened?”
“I had my appendix removed fifteen—non, seventeen years ago. Has it been that long?Mon dieu.”
The time frame shocked me; I had been nine when he had surgery. “Wait, how oldareyou?” I blushed when he burst into laughter. “Shit, that came out super rude, I’m sorry.”
“Not so old I can’t keep up with you,” he replied, chuckling at my reaction. “I’m thirty-eight.”
I blinked at him in disbelief, because he looked closer to my twenty-six years than he did to forty. “Youreallydon’t look it.”
He grinned at me. “Should I have a walker and a head full of white hair?”
His teasing helped me relax. “No, but you should at least have a few gray hairs.”
“They’re there if you look close enough.”
“I’m going to check later, because I don’t believe you at all.” He laughed, setting me at ease. “I guess I figured you were maybe twenty-eight. I’m twenty-six and apparently a horrible judge of age.”
“Aww, you’re abébé,” he cooed, making me laugh and blush at the same time. “And such a cutebébéat that.”
I snickered before returning my attention to his scar. It was like seeingkintsugion his skin, where the fact that he had been hurt and pieced together again made him more beautiful to me. The old wound was a testament that he was real and had survived bad things, that he was a man and not an untouchable god. I moved so I could kiss up the slender mark, getting turned on as I did so.
It emboldened me to explore his body, kissing and caressing him as I worked up to his nipples. As I teased them into tightened peaks, his hardness pressed against my belly. It gave me a confidence boost to have proof that my gentle explorations aroused him.
I trailed kisses along his collarbone, breathing in his woodsy cologne spiced with a hint of leather. It filled my veins with molten lava and made me drunk with desire in a way I had never experienced before.
When he tilted his head to expose his neck in silent invitation, I caved to my urges. I placed a lingering kiss at the base, then dared to lick along the curve of it. It felt like taking a hit of lust in its purest and most potent form, giving me an incredible high. I moaned as his unique scent exploded on my taste buds, rocking my arousal against his as my desire spiraled out of control. It was even better than I had imagined. Like an addict, I couldn’t stop with just one taste. I alternated between licks and kisses as I worshipped him with my lips and tongue while stroking the other side with my fingertips.
The experience became even more intense when he reciprocated by caressing my back and sides with teasing touches. Everything was a blur of white heat that pushed me higher than I had ever been before. One more lick was all I needed to send me over the edge as I came with a moan that I muffled against his neck.
It stunned me I had such a powerful orgasm with neither of us touching my dick. When I tried to apologize for doing something so strange, Armand cut me off with a hungry kiss. It swept me away until I couldn’t tell which way was up.
After we paused, I propped myself up on trembling arms. “Seriously, please tell me what the fuck kind of cologne do you wear.”
To my relief, he gave me an actual answer and not a coy response. “Tom Ford Ombré Leather. It’s a combination of leather, patchouli, amber, and some other earthy notes, combined with my natural body chemistry.”
I wasn’t sure how any of that equaled such an intense orgasm, but it amazed me all the same. “At this point, I’m convinced you’re a walking aphrodisiac. I’ve never felt that kind of blind lust, let alone because of a damncologne.”
He chuckled as he stroked my lower back. “I’m glad such a simple thing gives you so much pleasure.”
His words reminded me of his hardness, which made me feel like a terrible partner for being so selfish. “Uh, should I…?”
He continued stroking me in a soothing manner, which kept most of my anxiety at bay. “Should you what?”
It took me a few attempts to figure out how to phrase my question. “Um, take care of you?”
“You’re free to touch if that’s what you’re asking. I want you to explore as far as you’re comfortable.”
