A Free Choice (Ganymede Quartet Book 4.5) by Darrah Glass Page A

almost too much to bear, lush and harsh at once.
    It probably shouldn’t make him so happy that no one else had ever had this, no one had ever had Henry but him.
    “Who do you belong to?” he asked in a low voice, just short of a demand. His hipbones slammed into Henry’s ass, making the flesh quiver. When Henry didn’t immediately answer, Martin gave him another reckless thrust and another question. “ Who ?”
    “Oh god.” Henry sounded almost despairing. “You, Martin. It’s you .”
    His name . Henry had said his name. He shuddered and reached for Henry’s cock, fucking and jerking him a few strokes before saying, “Touch yourself. Come for me.”
    Henry groaned and took hold of himself, and the sight of Henry’s big hand around his big cock was almost too much for Martin to take.
    “ Henry ,” he begged. “Please, Henry, come for me.”
    Henry’s hand sped up and he closed his eyes, his brows angling down over his nose in concentration. His cheeks were lust-flushed, his lips parted, his hair a sexed-up mess, and his voice sounded out a deep abandon, ecstatic relief. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Martin, and his hand stilled as his cock jerked, painting his chest in hot white streaks.
    It was too much. Martin came, hard and wrenching, suddenly near tears, uttering a single Henry .
    Dazed, Martin lowered himself to lie on Henry’s chest as his breathing slowed. Henry’s arms went around his back and they kissed, liquid and sweet. Martin felt so raw and open, unbounded and permeable. He looked into Henry’s eyes, and Henry looked back, trusting and fearless, letting himself be seen. For once, Martin had to look away first.
    Oh, Henry .
    Martin found his voice and whispered, “I love you.”
    Henry smiled. “I know.” He pulled Martin into a kiss, ran his fingers through Martin’s hair. “I love you, too.”
    They were quiet for a time. Both winced a little when Martin’s softened cock slipped out of Henry’s ass, but Henry stroked his back and held him tight, keeping him close.
    Henry shifted beneath him, exhaling with a little grunt. Martin winced; their lean, unpadded bodies were not the most forgiving in an embrace. He began to untangle himself despite Henry’s protests.
    “I’m too bony,” Martin said in mild complaint. “I’m sure I’ve left bruises all over you.”
    “Eat more cake,” Henry said with a chuckle, lightly slapping him on the ass.
    “We could,” Martin pointed out as he rolled off of Henry to lie at his side. “After we get cleaned up.” He sat up, looking down into Henry’s handsome face. “How do you feel?” he asked, tousling Henry’s hair.
    Henry’s smile was bashful and joyous both. “I feel good. Wonderful .”
    “You liked it, then?” Martin grinned at him, knowing the answer.
    Henry smiled back. “I loved all of it. It was a little embarrassing, but it felt amazing .”
    “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You do the same things for me.” He gave Henry a caress and swung his legs off the side of the bed.
    “Where are you going?” Henry clutched at his arm, but almost immediately gave it up as a lost cause. “When I do it to you, I don’t think it’s the same, though. I…I’m a lot hairier than you.” Henry made a face, his feelings about hairiness quite clear.
    “You’re not that hairy,” Martin said, padding to the bathroom. His voice rang against the tile as he called out, “I prefer a man with some hair, you know.” There was no reply from Henry, and Martin suspected that it was because Henry disagreed with Martin’s preference. He sighed and washed his cock, then got a cloth to clean Henry’s chest and ass.
    Henry was not what Martin would consider hairy at all, though he was hairier than Martin. Henry had a nice amount of hair growing over the breadth of his chest, and this tapered into an enticing trail that led down his torso to the curls around his cock. Martin didn’t have this; he had a little bit