Chapter 6

He came, gasping and breathless, dizzy with the impact, flooding Simon’s mouth and throat; felt Simon’s attempts to swallow, airless and filled up by him, and held their positions for another pair of pulse-beats before letting go.

Simon practically collapsed at his feet, head still bent and resting on Ben’s knee, swallowing once again. Traces of white lingered on his lips and chin when he looked up. Ben’s heart did a somersault: love, ecstasy, completion, aftermath, preposterous shining happiness.

“You…was that…” He waved the hand not clinging to golden hair, weakly. “All right?”

Simon looked at him, opened his mouth, made a wry but entertained expression, touched his throat. “More or less, sir.”

All the scones and clotted cream in that accent had turned ragged, crumbled, and scattered from use. Success, Ben thought. His spent cock, lying limply outside his jeans, even managed a half-hearted twitch of interest at that audible proof. “Your turn? I can take care of you.”