Revolting

Chapter Thirty Two - Chopsticks (Warning Sexually Explicit)

William

"I can call down to the desk to see if the hotel can send us up some silverware," I said, reaching for my cell phone.

"Don't bother," Heath stopped me, "We can use the chopsticks." I watched him shake the bamboo sticks out of the wrapper, and make an awkward attempt at holding them.

"Here, like this," I leaned close and showed him how to hold the chopsticks correctly with his big fingers. He grinned and awkwardly tried to pick up a spear of broccoli with his new eating utensils. He lifted it carefully toward his mouth, but dropped it half way there, sending the broccoli rolling across the table. I couldn't help but chuckle at him. He gave me a mock glare, and separated his chopsticks so that he held one in each hand like weapons. Then, instead of trying to pinch the food, he merely stabbed a piece of meat with one, and pushed it in his mouth.

I picked up my own pair. "You know, in China it is bad manners to stab your food."

He raised an eyebrow at me while he chewed, completely unrepentant.

I took the carton in one hand, and the chopsticks in the other, and carefully picked out a snow pea. I stared at his lips and lifted the food for him, delicately feeding him. He looked uncertain, but he let me do it. I found it strangely intimate and erotic, and I liked it. A lot. I rearranged myself so I could reach him better, and switched out the cartons for lo mein. Feeding him noodles was infinitely more challenging, and I accidentally dragged a noodle across his chin. But that only gave me an excuse to lean forward and lick away the sauce that I left behind.

"My turn," he said, his eyes sparkling. He stabbed a scallop like the chopstick was a kabob, and lifted it to my lips. I took it with my teeth and made an appreciative noise as the succulent seafood melted on my tongue. Back and forth, we fed each other. Chuckling and feeling silly, and making a great effort to clean up any messes we made in the most outrageous way possible. I managed to drop rice all over the couch, and he lost a dumpling which rolled down my shirt and landed on my lap. "Five second rule!" he exclaimed, and then he bent to retrieve the lost dumpling with is teeth. In so doing he brought his face within inches of my crotch, and I felt desire flare up instantly. When he straightened, his eyes were dark, and his ears were pink. He swallowed with some difficulty and looked away.

I set the food aside and reached for him. I ran my fingers down his now smooth jaw, turning his head back to me. He licked his lips, demanding that my eyes follow the movement of his tongue. I groaned and leaned in to kiss him, letting my hand bury itself in his hair.

He kissed me back, timidly at first, and then with growing confidence. HIs large, calloused hand worked its way up my thigh, under the hem of my shirt to my back. His touch set my skin, and my groin on fire. "Heath..."

I could see the emotions flickering across his face. Shyness, uncertainty, desire, curiosity. He tugged impatiently at my shirt, trying unsuccessfully to pull it over my head. I finished the work, and tossed the shirt aside. I heard his satisfied sigh as he smoothed his hands across my chest. "You are...perfect," he breathed. "And so smooth." He looked at my chest skeptically. "Are you naturally like that?" He leaned back and divested himself of his shirt also, inviting me to touch and explore. "I got in the habit of waxing it when I worked at the club," I explained. His chest was sparsely sprinkled with red brown hairs, which dwindled into a thin line down his navel. I gently traced around the shiny new scar just below his collarbone. I leaned in and pressed my lips against it. "I'm so sorry for what you suffered, Heath," I said with deep sincerity. I wasn't just talking about the wound he had taken. I meant everything. Every injustice that had been done to him since he was a child. I felt the deepest desire to take it all away, to blot out every painful memory, and to protect him from any affliction in the future. And then my mouth moved higher, closer to the junction of his neck, to the place where I would mark him. To the place I needed to mark him. I sucked lightly on the skin, causing him to take a deep, sharp breath. I felt his hand grab harder on my back, pressing me closer. I grazed the spot lightly with my teeth, a teasing promise of what was to come. My free hand slid across his chest, down his trim, tight abdomen, to cup the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

I looked up at him, questioning. "Let me touch you?"

His ears were boiling hot, but he bit his lip and nodded. He lifted his hips and allowed me to pull the sweatpants down his thighs, over his calves, and pull them off his feet. I traced my hands up, lightly massaging his muscles, pressing his knees apart slightly. He was magnificent. My eyes devoured the size and shape of him before my hands circled his thick girth. He moaned and pressed his back against the couch, as if bracing himself for the pleasure my hands were bringing. It pleased and excited me to see how profoundly my touch affected him, the way his eyes watched me darkly, the way his member twitched in my hands. I began to stroke him slowly, twisting my grip as I moved up and down. When I got to the engorged tip, I lightly traced my finger over it. He swore and his hips jerked involuntarily. "William," he ground out my name between gritted teeth. "I'm going to embarrass myself."

I leaned forward to kiss him deeply, my hand never leaving him. "It's not an embarrassment, Heath. We are mates, you enjoy my touch. Give in to the pleasure, let go." My words seemed to fuel his passion, as his hands moved down to fist themselves in the pillows of the couch. I was painfully erect myself, but this was for Heath. It was the first of many gifts I would give him. I increased the pressure and the speed, until his breath was coming in gasps, and his hips were rising to meet my rhythm. I could see he was still fighting for control, trying to restrain himself. I used my free hand to massage him lightly, and then pressed gently on the smooth flesh just behind.

He lost control then, his whole body going stiff, his muscles trembling as he came, his seed erupting and spilling over my hand. The expression on his face was one of pure bliss, as he hissed out his breath and relaxed back into the couch. I grabbed some clean paper napkins to clean up the mess. He looked at me through half closed eyes, his eyes almost black now. "Now what?" he asked innocently.

I brushed some rice off the couch cushion, feeling just a bit guilty for the mess we had made. I would make sure to leave housekeeping an extra-large tip. I looked at my mate, his tall, lanky body sprawled over the black couch, making his skin look even more pale. I would have sworn that a red-headed sasquatch was not my type, but now as I gazed at him, I wondered how I had ever found anything else desirable.

I grinned at him mischievously. "Now we need a shower."