His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)

Free moved as if he knew how sexy Hart found him. Slow and sensual. Then he nudged Hart’s legs apart so he could stand between his thighs. Hart looked up and became mesmerized.

“How are you feeling now?” Free whispered. His voice wasn’t soft or feminine, by any means. He had a deep, soothing tone that was sweet music to his ears. Hart could’ve picked that voice out of any recording. Free touched his cheek, then smoothed his palm down to his chin, combing his slim fingers through his beard.

Uggh. Hart’s cock jumped in his tight briefs. He wanted to answer Free and tell him he was feeling amazing and to keep touching him there; however, he was afraid if he opened his mouth all he’d do was grunt and moan. Watching Free’s beautiful eyes as he caressed his beard sent his arousal into a whirlwind. No one had ever done that—gazed at him with such want and affection. He’d always desired that…needed that…but had never gotten it.

Free inched closer. Enough that Hart could lean forward and rest his forehead in the center of his abs. Damn, he was so exhausted. As he sat there in silence, his mind automatically went back to his job…to his bust. He didn’t want to think about that while Free was holding him. He needed to be in the moment and enjoy all of this. His shoulders started to rise to his ears and the tightness in his neck went a degree above painful.

Oh god. Unnnngh. Free worked his hands around to the back of his neck and started to prod gently at the painful bunches of muscles there. And Hart finally let his groan out.

Free rubbed his warm palms across his head, then down to the pressure points behind his ears. Hart wrapped both arms around Free’s waist, keeping him tight against him, not letting him go anywhere. “That feels so good,” he half moaned, half growled as Free upped the pressure. Shit, yeah. The pads of Free’s hands were soft, not callused like his own. His fingertips were a bit harder, probably from so many years of clicking on a keyboard, but Hart found it all blended together perfectly. This was his little something special Free had planned for him. But, it wasn’t so little at all.

It was humongous.

“I thought you might need this. I can feel the muscles spasming here.” Free kneaded a particularly tender spot. They were quiet for a long while, Free not blabbering a lot of nonsense while Hart enjoyed his massage and let the disappointment of the day fade away. Free eventually added, “I’m sorry you had such a rough day, Ivan. I won’t pretend to know what to say. I hope what I’m doing is enough.”

“Mmmm. It’s so much more than enough. You just don’t know.” Hart squeezed Free, not worrying if it was too hard. Free was toned and strong. And the way he was touching him, stroking him, and fingering his beard went far beyond a massage; it spoke of his own lust. With his head down, he had a good view of the bulge in Free’s sweatpants. Hart desperately wanted to touch it. So much so that he started to shake.

Free murmured something comforting then opened his long legs and straddled Hart’s lap. He tried to slow his breathing and not instinctively thrust his hips upwards. This wasn’t some raunchy lap dance. Free was still gazing into his eyes and touching him to relax him. To care for him. And heavens, did that turn him on more than anything sexual could.

“I love the different colors in your beard. The darkness at the bottom.” Free stroked his face.

I have to be dreaming. He can’t think…

“The reddish hairs on the top.” Free moved his hips a couple of inches closer, and Hart almost came out of the chair. Almost. His dick was so hard and cramped in those stupid briefs. He couldn’t believe he thought that’d be a good idea. “You’re so sexy, Ivan.”

Hart shook his head at his good fortune. His hands still roamed up and down Free’s back. It all felt surreal. Free dipped his head and kissed the side of his temple.

“Len.” Hart didn’t know what else to say.

Sure fingers clutched his chin and tilted his head up. Caught in the moment, it felt like neither of them breathed as Free’s lips made for his own. The first touch was so delicate, he barely felt it. The next press of that warm mouth against his was confident and more excited. There were no probing tongues, just a delectable, inquiring kiss. One that was meant to say, ‘hello, welcome to the start of this’. Hart exhaled roughly and angled his head for more.

“Ivan, I’ve wanted to touch you…kiss you for so long.” Free breathed against his lips, and damn if Hart didn’t think that would make him blow. He closed his eyes and tried to will his cock not to erupt, but it wasn’t every day he had a hot man on his lap paying him compliments. Free moaned in his ear, settling deeper into his lap. Hart’s eyes rolled behind his lids. Then more of those gentle kisses were placed on the corner of his mouth.