Wrong Way Home - Taken (Criminal Delights 1)

And it would have been so, so easy to just roll into Taron’s arms again. After two weeks of zero sex, even the sight of Taron’s forearms was enough to make Colin salivate, and since it had been so hot recently, Taron insisted on walking around shirtless, with his firm, hairy chest on show. It made Colin wonder if the fucker did it on purpose, well aware of his prisoner’s weakness for him.

But Colin would not be tempted, even if he was to tear the skin off his cock from too much masturbation.

Just as Colin was about to indulge in just that, Taron walked into the room. Knocking wasn’t something Taron was a fan of, so Colin always ended up startled.

In an ideal world, Colin would have remained still and pretended that he hadn’t noticed another person’s presence, but he didn’t have gills to breathe underwater, so he pulled his head out, not bothering to shake off the cooling droplets.

Taron didn’t even meet his gaze, but he was topless, and his skin had that reddish flush of a fresh tan. He’d brought towels, fresh dressings for Colin’s leg, and laundered clothes.

he signed without looking up. That was the extent of their recent communication, and while Colin hated the awkwardness of it, at least he got some satisfaction out of the fact that Taron seemed to hate the situation just as much.

He was determined to never talk to Taron again, so instead of providing an answer, he pushed his body up, trying to leave the tub without help. It was a lost cause since the injured leg was a dead weight, but at least he’d tried.

Needing Taron’s care was even worse than the pain and discomfort caused by the leg brace combined, but he still appreciated that Taron appeared the moment his help was necessary. He easily assisted Colin out of the tub, the big body sturdy enough to trust. Skin slid against skin, and Colin had to wrangle all the sexual thoughts that galloped through his mind, and herd them toward a cliff. His nakedness wasn’t helping, but it wasn’t as if it could be avoided in these circumstances.

He grabbed Taron’s shoulder to steady himself but wouldn’t look at him, even though the scent of sunshine and woodchips beckoned him to Taron like light in a dark forest. Taron carried him with ease, as if there were no bounds to the strength in those thick arms.

In the silence that remained a heavy presence around them, even the tiniest sounds were amplified, from the splash of water in the tub, to the squeak of springs in the mattress. Taron left Colin a towel so he could dry himself, but kneeled to change the dressing on Colin’s leg.

Colin swallowed and started with his hair while dampness cooled his warm skin. He sensed Taron cleaning the healing cuts, adjusting the planks that kept the lower leg stable, and tried hard to look everywhere but at the head between his bare knees. It had been too fucking long without sex.

Exams. Think about exams. Or better yet—about the face Dad made when you told him you weren’t sure if you should become a surgeon after all.

But Taron was there, kneeling between Colin’s legs. Touching him. It would have been so easy to just fuck. He had no doubt Taron would go for it. Taron fucked like the monster he was, and Colin hated and loved him for it at the same time.

When he stole a glance from under the towel wrapped around his head, he caught Taron staring at his cock, and stilled, his mind as blank as the white fabric he’d used for drying.

Seconds stretched, and his sudden stupor finally caught Taron’s attention. The moment his eyes darted up from Colin’s crotch, the connection was made—so electric it trailed fire all the way up Colin’s legs. He’d expected Taron to flinch, pretend he hadn’t been caught red-handed, but that wasn’t what happened.

Colin couldn’t look away from the thick beard, masculine features, and most of all—the hypnotic eyes communicating the same hunger that ate Colin up every day.

Endless seconds passed, and, without ever breaking eye contact, Taron inched closer, forcing Colin to spread his legs wider. His hands glided up. First to Colin’s knees, then to the inner thighs, and their touch shut down Colin’s ability to move and speak. He just sat there, entranced by the sudden change in their dynamic while the flames spread through his body, like a disease he had no immunity from.

His mouth opened only to take a long gulp of air, because his cock was already throbbing, so close to Taron’s hand, its warmth was palpable on the defenseless flesh.

The clock in Colin’s head ticked, counting the split seconds remaining to the moment when he’d feel Taron’s fingers, but Taron did something he hadn’t before. He bowed his head and licked up Colin’s cock. In that moment, Colin’s defences crumbled. He gave a helpless moan, clenched his fists, and curled his toes.