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STORY EXCERPT

Food devoured and kitchen tidied, Demitrius washed, rinsed, and dried his plate before setting it aside. “Okay, so what do you like with your eggs?”

“I’m not sure.” Oscar worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he surveyed the items on the counter. “They let us have ketchup sometimes.”

Demitrius didn’t know who “they” were, and he didn’t think the guy would appreciate him prying. Maybe one day Oscar would trust him enough to share his secrets, and when that day came, Demitrius would be ready to listen. “Do you like onions, mushrooms, and sweet peppers?”

“I don’t know.” Sucking his lip back between his teeth, Oscar shrugged and rubbed at the nape of his neck. “I’ve never had any of those things.”

“Good.” Removing three eggs from the carton and setting them beside the cutting board, he placed the rest back into the fridge and nudged Oscar forward to the counter. “We’ll fix it up with everything then. If you don’t like something, you’ll know next time. That’s the great thing about choices.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Oscar held it for a minute and then let it out in a whoosh. “Okay. What do I do first?”

Settling onto one of the stools, Demitrius leaned back against the island and watched, occasionally answering questions or giving instructions. He didn’t know what Oscar had been so worried about, though. It was clear that he didn’t have much experience in the kitchen, but he followed directions well and was meticulous about every detail right down to the direction he cut the onions.

“How do I know when these are done?” He pushed the vegetables around in the pan with the spatula and frowned.

“You want them soft, but not mushy.”

Oscar nodded resolutely, but still continued to poke at the contents of the pan. His bottom lip went between his teeth again, a sure sign he was getting upset, and he started bouncing from foot to foot. Worry lines marred his brow, and his eyebrows drew together in an expression of clear agitation.

“I think they’re ready, Oscar.”

Pursing his lips, he nodded once more and lifted the pan to transfer the contents to the skillet with the eggs. “Then I just fold it over?”

“That’s it.”

“What about the cheese? You put cheese on yours.”

“Well, you can put it on the inside or the outside. You can even do both.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because the agitation returned, accompanied by a soft grunt of what Demitrius took to be frustration. Oscar did well with direct orders. When faced with making even a simple decision, he seemed to fall into a panic. “Do you like cheese?”

“Yes. I love cheese!”

Ah, there was that smile Demitrius had been waiting for. “Okay, then smother it in cheese. Hell, fill the whole skillet with it.”

The sweetest laughter echoed around the kitchen as Oscar emptied the bag of shredded cheese into the pan. The laughter cut off abruptly when he tried to move his finished omelet to the plate and accidently broke it into several pieces. “Crap! I told you I couldn’t do this.”

“Relax, Oscar.” Rising from his seat, Demitrius forked a bit of the mixture and held it to the man’s lips. “Maybe it’s not very pretty, but that doesn’t change the way it tastes.”

Oscar looked skeptical, but after a short hesitation, he opened his mouth and allowed Demitrius to feed him. The way his lips wrapped around the tines was probably not as erotic as Demitrius found it, but that didn’t stop him from being completely mesmerized.

“Oh, that is good.”

“See?” Coughing to clear the huskiness from his voice, Demitrius placed the utensil back on the plate and took a hasty step in retreat. “Uh, you should probably eat before it gets cold.”

“I’m not really hungry. You have it. You didn’t eat very much.” Taking the plate to the table, Oscar sat it down in front of an empty chair and indicated that Demitrius should sit. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did, but I guess you could ask another.”

Oscar waited until they were both seated before he spoke again. “Why won’t you take off your sunglasses?”

Shoveling a huge bite of eggs into his mouth, Demitrius chewed slowly while he thought over how to answer. The question didn’t bother him. He was used to people poking their noses into his business. Oscar was different, though. His opinion mattered, and for the first time in years, Demitrius was a little nervous as to the reaction he’d receive.

Oscar folded his hands on the tabletop in front of him and smiled shyly. “Does it have anything to do with why you always look away when you smile? Or duck your head when you eat?”

The guy was extremely astute, and it unnerved Demitrius a little that Oscar had picked up on the subtle behaviors. People in general didn’t pay much attention to him other than to gawk at his larger-than-average size. That, he could handle. This thing Oscar was doing was completely alien, and it made it hard for him not to fidget under the scrutiny.

“Don’t be scared,” he blurted, which would naturally ensure that was exactly what Oscar did.

Surprising him once again, Oscar just smiled and leaned forward over the table. “I’m not scared. Nervous, anxious, and maybe even a little jealous, but I’m definitely not scared.”

“Jealous?” Demitrius tipped his head to the side and frowned. “Why on earth would you be jealous?”

The shyness returned, and Oscar’s cheeks tinted pink again. “Because you’re mine.”

ADULT EXCERPT

“You like that I’m so much bigger than you.” Demitrius prowled forward like a predator stalking his prey, urging Oscar backward until his knees pressed against the mattress. “It gets you hot thinking of all the ways I could take you, manhandle you, pin you up against the wall, if that’s what I wanted to do.”

“Yes.” His voice was shaking now, barely more than a breath, and Oscar felt like he was going to spontaneously combust if he couldn’t have the man inside him soon.

Demitrius casually kicked his boots off and pushed his jeans down his lean hips so that they pooled on the floor around his ankles. His hard cock jutted proudly from his groin, pointed almost accusingly in Oscar’s direction. A translucent drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip as it beaded from the slit in his cockhead.

The long, thick shaft flexed while the dark blue vein that snaked along the top pulsed with each rapid beat of Demitrius’s heart. Oscar’s mouth watered, and his knees began to tremble. More than he wanted air, food, or water, he wanted that beautiful cock in his mouth.

His lover obviously had other plans for him, however. Demitrius’s arm looped around his waist, lifting him easily and positioning him in the center of the bed. Long, nimble fingers made easy work of the button on his jeans, but once the zipper lowered, Demitrius paused, smirking at him in a way Oscar knew meant trouble.

A slight jerk was his only warning as Demitrius ripped his jeans down the crotch and along the left inseam. His eyes rolled back in his head, and Oscar moaned at the erotic sounds of tearing fabric and the growling groans that tumbled through his mate’s parted lips.

After divesting him of the remainder of his clothing, Demitrius settled between his splayed thighs, encouraging Oscar’s legs around his waist. Their heavy erections pressed together, sliding over one another to create a mind-numbing friction that had Oscar panting within moments.

“Shh, sweet baby.” Soft lips pressed against his own in a kiss so sweet Oscar thought his heart would shatter from the emotions the simple touch elicited. One of his lover’s hands slid into his hair and cradled the back of his skull as Demitrius rubbed their cheeks together like a cat seeking affection. “Tell me what you want, Oscar. I’ll give you anything you want.”

 It was Oscar’s primary function in life to provide what his partner needed. No one had ever asked him if he had a preference, and honestly, he couldn’t think past the pounding of his cock. There was only one clear thought in his lust-addled brain. “You. I want you to be mine, Demitrius. Just mine.”

Clearly, it was the right answer, because Demitrius’s lips stretched into a wide grin against the side of his neck. His hand disappeared, and Oscar distinctly heard the sound of his nightstand drawer sliding open. “I promise that you’ll never want for anything, sweetheart. Everything that I have, everything that I am, belongs to you and you alone.”

Gods, the man was going to melt him into a puddle of goo right there on the mattress if he kept saying things like that. Never in his life had Oscar had a single thing to call his own. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve someone like Demitrius, but he vowed to do everything in his power to be worthy of the gift he’d been given.

A bottle cap clicked open, causing him to tense when the sound was much louder than he’d expected in the quiet room. With only a small amount of effort, he willed his body to relax again, and even sighed in contentment when Demitrius’s middle finger slipped between his cheeks and ringed the fluttering muscles of his opening. Never had he wanted anything more, and as the thought flittered through his mind, the brief apprehension dissipated.

“Tell me if I go too fast.” Then his lover’s mouth was on him again, his tongue tickling the seam of Oscar’s lips as he demanded entrance. The single digit at his entrance pushed with steady pressure until it popped through the guarding ring of muscles. “So tight,” Demitrius moaned into his mouth, and Oscar inwardly preened that he could draw such a sound from the big warrior.

Their tongues met and tangled while Demitrius’s finger pumped in a slow, steady rhythm, loosening his hole and preparing him for more to come. When a second finger was introduced to his straining channel, the burn only pushed him higher until he was teetering precariously on the edge of orgasm. By the time his mate had three fingers sawing in and out of his tunnel, Oscar was holding onto his self-control by the skin of his teeth.

“Please,” he whimpered, bucking upward so he could rub his aching length along the corrugated expanse of Demitrius’s midsection. “Can’t last.” His back bowed, his abs clenched, and a generous amount of pre-cum dripped from his slit. “Demitrius! I need you.”

“Okay, baby, okay.” The big shifter petted the hair back from Oscar’s damp forehead as he extracted his fingers and reached for the lube once more. “Just breathe, Oscar.”