Chapter 7

I wasn't sure if he'd respond or not. In my experience, some men didn't like kissing, and it wasn't as if we were even close. But he kissed me back heatedly without hesitation. I groaned as our tongues stroked over each other, lips crushed against teeth in our eagerness. The bristles of his neatly trimmed moustache and goatee scraped my skin. I slowed things a little, caressing his lips with mine instead, until he moaned and melted against me. I ran my hands over his body, stroking his firm pecs and his back. I finished unfastening his leather trousers, pushed them down enough to uncover his arse, and squeezed it in both hands. His dick rubbed against my stomach, still restrained by his underwear. I broke the kiss to breathe.

"I want you so fucking bad," I muttered. I took my hands off him and shoved my trousers and underwear to my knees. My erection slapped against my stomach and left a wet smear there.

Petter pushed his trousers and underwear down the rest of the way and stepped out of them. Then he crawled into the middle of my bed and lay on his back. He idly stroked himself as I finished undressing, kicking my Gucci trousers into a heap on the floor in my haste. Then I climbed onto the bed and lowered myself between his legs. Our dicks rubbed together and we both groaned. I covered his mouth with mine again and thrust in with my tongue. He gripped my neck and pushed back, his tongue fighting with mine for dominance. I groped for the lube, desperate to move things forward. When I reached under him and pushed a finger in, he let go of my neck and turned his head to break the kiss.

"Is this okay?" I looked down at him, but his eyes were closed.

"Yeah."

"Look at me." I stroked in and out gently, coating him in lube. He turned his head back and opened his eyes. They were grey-blue, I noted, like the sea. His pupils were blown, lips parted as he gasped for breath. The hair on his face was light brown, a shade darker than that on his head which was more of a dark blond. He was easily the hottest, most gorgeous man I'd ever been with. If only he wasn't who he was. But I could never be with him openly, even if he wasn't a Mobster. The Family would never accept me being gay. Years ago in Croatia, I'd heard my parents talking about a gay man who was the son of one of their friends. They hated him and thought he was disgusting and unnatural.

I added a second finger, carefully pressing in and stretching Petter open. He squirmed and groaned, and I held still. "Take it easy. You're too tense. You know I won't hurt you, right?"

"Yeah." He took a breath and blew it out slowly. His erection had softened, and I reminded myself he wasn't used to this.

"It's okay. Just relax." I never would have dreamed of talking to any of my past lovers like this. I never would have thought I'd talk to Petter like this either, but in the moment, it was right. It felt right. It felt amazing. Like this, we were different people. Who we were didn't matter. I brushed my lips against his. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No. I'm okay. Do it." He grasped himself and stroked slowly.

I pressed my fingers deeper. "You feel so good. So hot. I could come just from doing this." I brushed across his prostate, and he gasped. "Yeah, that's it. You like that, don't you?" I rubbed it again, and his dick stiffened.

"Do you always talk this much when you're having sex?" He smiled suddenly.

"No. Not usually." I pulled my fingers out. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Go slow."

I picked up the lube again and slicked some onto my erection. "Did I hurt you last time? I tried not to."

"Not much. I was sore after."

"I'll take it slower. You want it like this, or do you want to turn over?"

"Like this." He pulled his knees up. "Are you this considerate with all your lovers?"

"There haven't been many, but no. Generally, I don't give a shit so long as I have a good time. I kind of got fond of Markus, but—" I shrugged. "So long as you're enjoying it, that's what matters."

He stared at me for a second, then closed his eyes. "I wouldn't have come back for more if I didn't enjoy the first time."

I guided myself, and carefully pressed in. He relaxed and pushed against me, making it easier. I buried myself deep, then held still to let him get used to me. After a minute, I gradually started to move with slow, shallow thrusts. It still felt like the first time. He was so tight and unused. I kept my gaze fixed on his face, watching for a flinch or grimace, but there was none. He began to move with me, and stroked himself, slow and firm. It felt amazing; perfect. I didn't want it to end, but after a few minutes I knew I wouldn't last much longer. His arse flexed and clenched around me, and he grunted his pleasure as he came.

"Yeah, that's it," I gasped. "Almost there." Just as he finished, I spilled into him, then held myself deep inside until I softened. He felt so fucking good.

When I slipped out, I rolled off him and pulled him over to face me. I wasn't a cuddler. Markus had always wanted to cuddle afterwards, and I'd turned away from him, uncomfortable with that level of physical affection. But it was easy to want to hold Petter. Somehow there was a connection between us. Something I wanted to hang onto. I pulled him against me and ran my hand slowly over his back. He pressed his forehead against my shoulder and rested his arm around me.

"Are you expected back?" I asked him.

"I come and go as I please."

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" I hadn't meant to ask that, and I held my breath as I waited for the answer. Perhaps fucking wasn't out of the question, but spending the night together, holding each other, was going too far. Wasn't it?

"Is that what you want?" He kept his face hidden against my shoulder.

"Yes, it's what I want." I brushed my lips against the shaved side of his head.

"Okay."

I moved my hand to the back of his neck and stroked the warm, slightly damp skin there. Then I ran my fingers through the long strands of hair in the centre of his head. He moaned softly, almost a purr. I kissed the side of his head again. "Hey. Look at me."

He pulled his head back and met my eyes. "What?"

I just brought our lips together and kissed him warmly, thoroughly, my heart hammering as he responded. There was no urgency or passion, just warmth. I knew then I was in trouble. Deep trouble. I was going to fall for him and there was nothing I could do to stop myself, because I couldn't give this up now. Today, it was just sex. But tomorrow, it would be something else.