Victim of Love by Darien Cox

back, tracing my spine. I was still very much in his thrall, so the touch was more than a little distracting, as were his gorgeous eyes. “I can be myself,” he said. “But I’m also used to wearing masks.”
    I frowned. “Masks? What do you mean? Like Zorro or something?”
    Beck’s head fell forward as he snorted a laugh, then he looked at me. “I was being metaphorical, Olsen!”
    “Oh!” I snickered. “Sorry. I thought you meant you wanted to...uh...”
    “Fuck you wearing a mask?”
    I laughed hard, wiping my eyes. “Something like that.”
    Beck grinned, shaking his head. “No, Olsen. You can relax.”
    Yeah, I was definitely a bit stoned.
    Still smiling, Beck gripped me by the shoulders. “Okay, do over. Let’s try this again. Olsen, I think you’re sweet and hot and smart and really funny. I like your eyes and your body and I want to make love to you in a way that works for you, in a way that leaves you breathless and still thinking about it hours after you leave my bed. So please. Tell me what you want.”
    I gripped the waistband of his shorts, tugging him closer, pleased when the action brought a sharp inhale from Beck. “I want you to take off your mask,” I said. “And your clothes. And I want you to kiss me. The same way you kissed me on the beach the other night. But this time, you can’t run away.”
    Beck’s face was close to mine, his bare chest rising as he took a deep breath and let it out. “Good answer.” His arm went around my back and he used his body to ease me down onto the mattress. “Very, very, good answer,” he whispered, then his mouth was on mine as he climbed on top of me.
    And boy did he follow my instructions, kissing me deep but extremely slow. Resting on his elbows, he eased his head back and looked down at me. “Like that?”
    I nodded. “Just like that.”
    He kissed me again, and let his full weight press down on me, the skin to skin contact lighting a fire in my body. Again he tore his lips away, but this time kept close, forehead pressed against mine. “You do like that, huh?” he whispered and pushed his pelvis against mine, acknowledging my growing erection.
    I chuckled softly. “It appears I do, yes.”
    “Better try it again just to make sure,” he said, gripping my chin and delving deep into my mouth with his tongue.
    This tactic was driving me nuts in the best way possible, each kiss more savage than the last. Even the way he kept stopping and talking to me in between was adding to the excitement.
    Excitement—a word we use to describe so many things, though it never has quite the same meaning. The same word used to describe sexual arousal, also employed for things like asking a small child about their impending trip to Disney World. Are you excited?
    I was, and it encompassed all of those things. I was impassioned, discomposed, enthusiastic, and eager for what was to come.
    I softened my mouth and welcomed him in, tongue and teeth and breath and delicious, gliding wetness. Beck made a small sound when I took hold of his head and urged his tongue deeper, unable to stop myself from wrapping my legs around him and lifting my hips for below the waist contact.
    He took the cue, kissing me harder and moving more aggressively against my body. Though he was a slightly smaller man than I was, his body felt hard and firm, almost vibrating with strength, like he was having some trouble restraining himself and remaining gentle.
    Abruptly he broke the kiss, letting out a hot breath, eyes closed. “Jesus, Olsen.” His eyes opened, close enough for me to note wide, dilated pupils. “I like doing things your way. Liking it a little too much,” he said, grinding his groin into me with a soft moan.
    I smiled, delirious with want and thrilled that he seemed as into it as I was. In that hazy, lustful moment, I wished I could do this forever, just freeze time and run it on a loop. We hadn’t even gotten fully naked yet, and already I knew that Beck was the best