not marking—just tasting the sweet, salty flavor of Rafe’s skin.
“Uuh.” Rafe turned his head.
“No?”
“Oh, nein , no. Please… bitte . Don’t stop. That feels…”
Ben smiled and rubbed his lips into the bristly skin of Rafe’s neck. “Okay?”
“Yes. Oh Gott .” Rafe shifted, hips jerking into Ben’s touch.
Ben continued to caress Rafe’s cock, learning the feel of it, mapping and
memorizing each detail, as he let his fingers glide over the veiny texture of the
underside and the slick smooth head. He explored Rafe’s balls, caressing each one. He
slid a knowing finger behind them, stroking the skin of Rafe’s perineum gently but
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
85
briefly for this first time—just a tiny preview of pleasure to come, he thought,
concentrating on the cock in his hand and the man in his arms. He slid his hand back up
Rafe’s shaft and gave his attention to the head, running his fingers over the slit,
gathering the moisture there to lubricate his movements.
Ben watched Rafe carefully as he pleasured him. He studied Rafe’s handsome face
as each minute brush of fingertips made him lose himself a little more. When at last he
wrapped his hand around Rafe’s cock and pulled, with each long stroke, each tightly
gripped slide up and down, Rafe gasped and gave in, lifting his hips, abandoning all
pretense, burying his face in Ben shoulder as he let himself go.
“Uuh, ja, ja, ja .” Rafe’s body tightened, and Ben’s hand grew warm and sticky when
Rafe spent. “ Jesus .”
Ben sought Rafe’s mouth, and they clung and kissed, Rafe shuddered in his arms,
practically devouring him, desperate and needy. Ben nearly came from nothing more
than the friction of Rafe trembling against him.
For a few seconds after Rafe found release, Ben couldn’t help grinning with
masculine pride. “Like that?”
Rafe let his head fall back onto the pillow and covered his face with his good hand.
“You have to ask?”
Ben discreetly wiped Rafe’s spend onto his own undershirt. He took Rafe’s hand
and kissed it, then his lips. “There’s no shyness here between us, all right?”
Blue eyes met his. The man had the best damn smile. “All right.”
“I want to—” Rafe broke off. “I want to do something for you, but I’m awkward
with my left hand.” He spread his hand over Ben’s cock, which still throbbed with
need. “I would probably put your eye out.”
“I think somebody”—Ben turned so he could wrap his right hand around Rafe’s left
and press it into his cock—“needs an anatomy lesson.”
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
86
It was awkward. Their hands were backward and in the wrong position to stroke
him off, so he let go of Rafe’s hand and pulled his own cock while Rafe had to content
himself with exploring the surrounding skin, tickling his balls, running his fingers
through the crisp bush of hair at Ben’s groin.
“Almost there,” Ben bit out, groaning when the first electric tingles slid outward
from his balls, signaling that his orgasm was imminent. “ Christ .”
That was it , right there. The best part, when he knew he was going to come and
there was nothing he could do to stop it. He lost himself inside the madness of it, like he
was soaring off a cliff or over a waterfall. He gave in to the delirium of a great rush,
closing his eyes. Rafe’s lips closed down on his, sealing them together, making them
one in that moment of complete surrender.
“Beautiful,” Rafe whispered a minute or so later. Something shiny had reached his
eyes, like hope or the best part of kindness. High regard. Ben didn’t dare to imagine it
was more than that.
Yet.
But he had hopes…
In the cool blue glow of that December dawn, Rafe showed himself to be the
complete opposite of the distant, sophisticated man he allowed the world to see. This
Rafe had a boyish sweetness, an innocence that pulled at Ben’s heart like grappling
hooks. He
“Uuh.” Rafe turned his head.
“No?”
“Oh, nein , no. Please… bitte . Don’t stop. That feels…”
Ben smiled and rubbed his lips into the bristly skin of Rafe’s neck. “Okay?”
“Yes. Oh Gott .” Rafe shifted, hips jerking into Ben’s touch.
Ben continued to caress Rafe’s cock, learning the feel of it, mapping and
memorizing each detail, as he let his fingers glide over the veiny texture of the
underside and the slick smooth head. He explored Rafe’s balls, caressing each one. He
slid a knowing finger behind them, stroking the skin of Rafe’s perineum gently but
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
85
briefly for this first time—just a tiny preview of pleasure to come, he thought,
concentrating on the cock in his hand and the man in his arms. He slid his hand back up
Rafe’s shaft and gave his attention to the head, running his fingers over the slit,
gathering the moisture there to lubricate his movements.
Ben watched Rafe carefully as he pleasured him. He studied Rafe’s handsome face
as each minute brush of fingertips made him lose himself a little more. When at last he
wrapped his hand around Rafe’s cock and pulled, with each long stroke, each tightly
gripped slide up and down, Rafe gasped and gave in, lifting his hips, abandoning all
pretense, burying his face in Ben shoulder as he let himself go.
“Uuh, ja, ja, ja .” Rafe’s body tightened, and Ben’s hand grew warm and sticky when
Rafe spent. “ Jesus .”
Ben sought Rafe’s mouth, and they clung and kissed, Rafe shuddered in his arms,
practically devouring him, desperate and needy. Ben nearly came from nothing more
than the friction of Rafe trembling against him.
For a few seconds after Rafe found release, Ben couldn’t help grinning with
masculine pride. “Like that?”
Rafe let his head fall back onto the pillow and covered his face with his good hand.
“You have to ask?”
Ben discreetly wiped Rafe’s spend onto his own undershirt. He took Rafe’s hand
and kissed it, then his lips. “There’s no shyness here between us, all right?”
Blue eyes met his. The man had the best damn smile. “All right.”
“I want to—” Rafe broke off. “I want to do something for you, but I’m awkward
with my left hand.” He spread his hand over Ben’s cock, which still throbbed with
need. “I would probably put your eye out.”
“I think somebody”—Ben turned so he could wrap his right hand around Rafe’s left
and press it into his cock—“needs an anatomy lesson.”
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
86
It was awkward. Their hands were backward and in the wrong position to stroke
him off, so he let go of Rafe’s hand and pulled his own cock while Rafe had to content
himself with exploring the surrounding skin, tickling his balls, running his fingers
through the crisp bush of hair at Ben’s groin.
“Almost there,” Ben bit out, groaning when the first electric tingles slid outward
from his balls, signaling that his orgasm was imminent. “ Christ .”
That was it , right there. The best part, when he knew he was going to come and
there was nothing he could do to stop it. He lost himself inside the madness of it, like he
was soaring off a cliff or over a waterfall. He gave in to the delirium of a great rush,
closing his eyes. Rafe’s lips closed down on his, sealing them together, making them
one in that moment of complete surrender.
“Beautiful,” Rafe whispered a minute or so later. Something shiny had reached his
eyes, like hope or the best part of kindness. High regard. Ben didn’t dare to imagine it
was more than that.
Yet.
But he had hopes…
In the cool blue glow of that December dawn, Rafe showed himself to be the
complete opposite of the distant, sophisticated man he allowed the world to see. This
Rafe had a boyish sweetness, an innocence that pulled at Ben’s heart like grappling
hooks. He
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