Beautifully Complicated (Front Range University #4)

4. Kier

Chapter four

Kier

S inful.

Temptation personified.

Beautiful.

How else can I describe the man who asked me to take him home? Whom I obliged by bringing to my bed? Whose made my body vibrate in ways previously unknown to me, all of which he did before our lips even met. And when they did, all sense of reason was lost to me.

The only thing I knew was want. Need. Desire.

Now I’m spread out before him, begging for his cock, and I’ve never been more excited to do something so debauched.

How can this man think he’s not sexy?

Though to be fair, it’s not his face or his body that I find most appealing. It’s his mind. The way he listens so intently, asks thoughtful questions, and walks a line between playful and real… I love an active mind, and when you put it behind the face of an angel with a body built for sin, you’ve got sex incarnate.

I’m not an impulsive man, but I couldn’t say no to that. Hell, I just asked him for it.

Aiden shivers at my request, lusty eyes raking over me from under heavy lids. Then he swipes his tongue along mine before moving away to grab the lube, and scoots between my legs as he coats his fingers. Yet it’s not the way he rubs them together to warm the liquid that has my cock standing at attention, it’s the reverent way he looks at me.

Yeah, he just told me my body is incredible, but I have the sense that superficial observation doesn’t encompass the admiration in his gaze. It’s part of it, but just as I find his mind intriguing, I get the sense he feels the same way about me.

He hasn’t said or done anything to confirm that, it’s just an inkling I have based on our earlier conversations, but it feels right. Almost like that thought I had when we first met, the one about recognizing another old soul, is something that crossed his mind as well.

I’m not saying we’re two halves of a whole—that would be ridiculous given the age difference and the fact that we’ve both already acknowledged this thing is only for tonight—although it’s probably fair to say there’s a connection here that goes beyond sexual chemistry. One that is enhancing every look. Every taste. Every touch.

Taking my cock loosely in his fist, Aiden strokes me with one hand while probing my hole with the other. His skillful fingers apply just the right amount of pressure, building my desire, while the hand on my dick distracts me from any discomfort. It’s something an experienced lover would think to do, although in Aiden’s case, I think it’s more a desire to make me comfortable than first-hand experience dictating his actions.

I may be projecting, putting more weight than I should on that comment about it being a while for him too, but I find myself foolishly wishing that there haven’t been many before me.

What is he doing to me?

The pressure on my hole increases slightly as Aiden seeks entrance, and with a heavy exhale I do my best to relax. Though I can’t do it fully—anticipation has me out of sorts—I let go enough that he can push in to the first knuckle.

“Oh, God,” I groan as that finger probes in shallow strokes.

“Too much?” Aiden stills immediately.

“No. God no. That feels incredible.”

The worry creasing his brow fades as he pushes deeper, pulling another salacious groan from my lips.

I’m so tight, so sensitive, that a single finger nearly stretches me to the brink. But it doesn’t feel foreign. In fact, with each gentle thrust my body seems to reclaim more and more of its sexual appetite, pulling the digit in. The further he delves inside me, the harder it is to keep my hips still. To stop from chasing the release I want to delay as long as possible.

“Damn, Kier,” he whispers, never taking his gaze away from what he’s doing. “You’re squeezing me so hard. I’m not sure I’ll last inside you.”

“That makes two of us.”

“That’s not your normal role, so it’s understandable. I usually top, and I’m a little worried I won’t last past the first push.”

“I’m not talking about when the roles are reversed, Aiden.” His warm coffee eyes meet mine when I say his name. “I’m talking about this, right now.” I suck in a ragged breath as his finger pulls back to tease my entrance, then pushes back in. “You’ve got me wound so tight I’m afraid I’ll have to count just to make it the first minute.”

A knowing smile spreads across his face. “Along Came Polly,” he recites the name of the movie I’d been referencing. “That’s more my era than yours.”

“We don’t seem bound by eras when it comes to movies.” It’s a simple observation, yet I suspect he finds it just as meaningful as I do given our current circumstances.

“True,” he muses as his fingers resume their discovery.

We fit in so many ways… I’d fall for this man if there weren’t so many years between us.

Shoving that thought from my mind, I give myself over to Aiden’s touch, drifting to a pleasantly aroused state as he explores. Thoroughly.

Under his ministrations, a tantalizing hum makes itself at home from the waist down. Wave after wave of bliss roiling through me with each stroke on my cock, each press of his finger.

As he works his way deeper into my body, Aiden occasionally moves his hand from my shaft to my sac, massaging my balls with a tender touch. The combination of pushing and pulling and squeezing has me so entranced I feel weightless. Overrun by a floating sensation that pulls a contented sigh from my chest.

Is this what Aiden meant when he talked about snowboarding? Probably not, but this feels so euphoric if snowboarding is even a fraction as incredible as this, he could probably convince me to try it.

I’m vaguely aware of the fact my rock-hard cock is pointing to the sky while the rest of me is virtually boneless, and I’m shocked to realize I’ve got no shame about that. I sort of love it, being at Aiden’s mercy while he takes me to nirvana with a single finger.

Is it him, or just the fact I’ve been celibate for so long?

That’s a question I could get lost in, if Aiden didn’t pick this moment to crook his finger in a come-hither motion, causing me to practically launch off the bed.

“Holy shit,” I gasp as my heartbeat thunders in my ears.

Aiden pulls his finger back and releases my dick, withholding all pleasure, and to my horror I whimper. Whimper .

“Don’t worry, I’m not finished.” He shoots me a flirty smile as he gives his own cock a few leisurely strokes. “I’m just giving you time to get your bearings.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m old?”

Aiden glides his hand soothingly over my thigh. “That’s my way of saying you’re so responsive I’m going to have to take my time.”

Biting back a derisive snort I say, “I love that you’re so polite, but you just had your finger up my ass so it’s really not necessary.”

Crawling over me, Aiden leans down to peck my lips. “Remember what I said about sensitive spots? How we all have them?”

I hum my agreement since I can’t speak with his mouth brushing over mine.

“Right now, I’m finding all yours. When you have the chance to explore mine, you’ll find out I can be just as responsive.” He nips at my bottom lip. “So, no more talk about age, okay?”

Despite wanting to marvel at the wisdom he already possesses, I tamp that thought down and nod my head. “Okay.”

Aiden gives me another long, lingering kiss, before scooting back between my legs. He adds more lube to his fingers as those amber eyes meet mine with unabashed lust. “I’m adding another finger this time.”

My head bobs in agreement, and I do my best to relax as two fingers breach my channel. The burn is more acute this time, but it fades almost as quickly as it comes on, I’m assuming because my body has already started to remember how much it likes this.

Once again, my eyes fall shut as he pushes deeper, kneading the delicate tissue that leads to my hypersensitive bundle of nerves. He subtly probes that spot, igniting a series of pleasurable ripples that aren’t strong enough on their own to tip me over the edge, but have my cock twitching with need.

I don’t have a musical bone in my body, yet right now, I feel like an instrument being lovingly tuned by a master. Sure, strong fingers plucking me with fragile ease, until they find that elusive note, and play it to perfection.

Jesus, he’s turned me into a poet. And as a science guy, I fucking hate poetry.

My spine bows up as Aiden brushes his fingers over my prostate, a surge of euphoria causing my limbs to seize so hard they start to cramp. I shift restlessly, whether to increase the pressure or relieve myself of it I’m not sure, but the effect is a tidal wave of harmony so intoxicating my muscles give and my back crashes to the mattress.

A moan that can only be described as sultry passes between my lips, though it seems to echo throughout the room long after I’m out of breath to make the sound. Opening my eyes, I see Aiden kneeling over me, gaze focused on where we’re joined. Lips parted to release the hum of his arousal, his smooth, angelic face pink and flushed with desire. For me.

That realization is so potent I’m unable to stop my hips from rocking onto his hand in a rhythm that matches the pace of his thrusts. Though it’s a subtle movement, it’s enough to have him withhold his touch.

“Noooo,” I complain when I’m empty.

“We’re still not done,” he grits as he fists his shaft and gives it a few pulls. That—and pupils blown so wide I can’t see the caramel of his irises—the only clues that his control is just as precarious as mine.

My hips continue to search for relief, rigid dick spearing the air in vain. Aiden watches me with a hunger that betrays his calm facade as he grabs the lube and says, “Three?”

“I’m ready.” I shake my head.

He regards me warily. “You said it’d been a while, and I’m not exactly built for…beginners.”

“I’m not a beginner,” I huff, though as my eyes find the cock standing proudly between his legs and I get my first substantial look at it, I understand his hesitation.

Aiden’s not massive, but his package isn’t as lean as he is, so the two fingers he’s been using aren’t representative of what’s to come. That said, I meant that remark about not being a beginner. It might be snug at first, but I actually welcome that sensation. It’s one of the reasons I’ve never felt the need to top. I enjoy being filled. I enjoy the glide of a hard dick along my walls, and clenching around the intrusion. And I especially enjoy when the crown of that dick rubs my prostate.

Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I said I wanted to try topping with Aiden when I’ve never had that desire before, but something about him makes me greedy. I want to experience everything he’s willing to give, and I’m not feeling very patient about it.

“Kier, I want you so bad I’m ready to combust, but I don’t want to hurt you either.” A wavy line creases Aiden’s forehead, and though it’s camouflaged slightly by the wisps of hair falling over his face, it’s impossible not to see.

“I know.” I reach for his hand and link his fingers with mine, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “And I promise, if it’s too much I’ll tell you. But I’m ready to combust too, and I want you inside me. Please.”

The desire in my eyes must trump the concern in his, since he drops my hand only to reach for the condom.

I watch him roll it over his length, marveling at how sexy he looks performing such a simple task. Biceps flexed, stomach coiled, deft fingers moving with quick and efficient grace. Not for the first time, his confidence and poise strike me as advanced for his age, and I find myself caught in a complicated spiral of desire versus integrity.

Taking him to bed is both selfish and irresponsible. Deep down I know that. But from the first moment I saw him I felt an inexplicable pull, and at this point, my desire for him is less a want than a need I don’t have the strength to deny.

My overactive mind could analyze my choices indefinitely, and it probably would if not for the gentle pressure of Aiden’s crown nudging my entrance, bringing me back to the present.

Our eyes meet over the length of my body, and he inches slightly forward. I force the air from my lungs in a steady stream, hoping to ease his entry and avoid any sudden gasps that could make him assume he’s too much.

Fully seated, he leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. It’s a tender gesture, though I suspect it’s just as much about regaining a sense of control as it is savoring the moment.

“Are you counting?” I breathe against his lips.

“I would be if I could remember any numbers.”