Whiskey and Wry (Sinners, #2)

“You drive me nuts, you know?” Damien muttered, his tongue finding the ticklish spot on Sionn’s neck. “I don’t remember ever wanting to bareback someone before. Not like I want to have you. Or, shit, not like I want you to have me.”


“Remember-remember, or holes in the noggin remember?” Sionn teased, then gasped when Damien’s index finger pressed down on his entrance. “Fuck, love. That was….”

“I am going to pound you so hard,” Damien threatened as he left behind a string of nipping bites down Sionn’s chest, scraping his nails over the tender skin above Sionn’s entrance. “Hole in the noggin. Asshat.”

“Ah, aren’t I your asshat, boyo?” He met Damien’s answering grin with a wink.

Foreplay probably was going to go by the wayside. Sionn realized that about the time he’d struck his funny bone. Neither one of them needed a prolonged erotic warm-up. He’d hit an erection nearly as soon as he’d seen Damien lean over the edge of the wall to look out at the city. Having the man in his lap only ground down his willingness to hold off, and as Damien raked lube over his own cock, Sionn’s muscles clenched in anticipation.

If he couldn’t recall when he’d had sex prior to Vienna, Sionn sure as shit couldn’t remember the last time he’d spread his ass for anyone. Damien’s long cock glistened, promising to hit every bundle of need Sionn had hidden deep in him, and his hole puckered at the thought of the man’s sleek sex parting his cheeks.

He didn’t have to wait long. Damien’s fingers pressed into him, smearing a line of lube around his entrance. He tried to force himself to stay open, but the ring had its own idea, clenching tight around Damien’s intrusion. Panting shallow huffs, he forced his body to relax. Then the burn of Damien’s oiled skin on his silken heat told him the man’d found his way in.

“Shit… damn, Damie….”

Growling about it wasn’t doing much good. He was losing his mind. Damien Mitchell knew his way around Sionn’s body, because he seemed to find every single stretch of skin that needed touching. From the powder-soft span under Sionn’s sac to the sleek insides of his entrance, Damien skillfully played him out. At some point, Damien’s mouth joined in on the fun, his lips wrapping around the head of Sionn’s cock, his foreskin tickling when the tip of the man’s tongue lapped at its edge.

The burn began again, a slower creep of pleasurable fire inching deep inside of him. Then a press of Damien’s fingers against the walls of his core, and Sionn nearly lifted off of the bed. The man’s limber touch stroked out a tingling flame from the hidden clutch in Sionn, and it was all Sionn could do not to slam himself down on Damien’s hand.

Only the bitching about how he needed his fingers to play the guitar kept Sionn from fucking himself on Damie’s fingers, but it was close.

Then self-control went by the wayside when Damien twisted his wrist, plunging up deeper into Sionn’s heat, and Sionn nearly screamed from the storm breaking through him. His hips thrust down, riding the sharp length of Damien’s fingers, and the man let him, holding still as Sionn fought to find the spot he knew would tear him apart.

The pleasure eluded him, drawn out from Damien’s fingertips flicking back and forth around the area even as his palm was nearly buried in the spread of Sionn’s hole. Through the red blush of thwarted passion, Sionn heard the click of the lube cap opening again, then felt the cool thrush of slippery liquid being dribbled down his sac and over his entrance. Damien’s thumb rubbed up and down his crease, spreading the lubricant around and slicking his hole.

The second Sionn felt himself empty of Damien’s touch, he hooked his hands under his knees to draw them up. The room’s walls were cast back into the shadows, their color leeched away from the faint city-bred light pouring in from the warehouse’s high, frosted windows. Damien loomed over him, one hand on his slender erection, jutting up from its black curl nest, while his oiled fingers played at Sionn’s entrance, teasing him anew.

After stroking himself once, Damien bent forward to lick Sionn’s belly, his hair curling down to brush over Sionn’s side. Damien snapped lightly at the skin around Sionn’s navel, glanced up his lover’s chest, and asked, “You ready for me, Irish?”

“Yeah, a rún,” Sionn gasped, arching his back as Damien pushed into him, his cockhead parting the clutch of Sionn’s body. “God, a ghrá… give yourself to me, Damie love. All of you to me.”




HE DIDN’T think he was going to last.

In fact, Damie was pretty sure he would have to suck Sionn off for the rest of the night… maybe week… for how fast he was going to shoot off. Not even certain he was fully seated in the man’s heat, Damien rocked his hips to make sure he was at least past the tight ring, hoping he could find his lover’s pleasure point before he shamed himself beyond all forgiveness.