Chapter Seventeen

 

Culhwch

 

After seeing The Bellevue, we fell in love with the place and booked it on the spot for our party. I took plenty of pictures to show my mum, of course. Houston’s mum, Violet called him via FaceTime to see the venue, but thankfully my mum was at work, so we didn’t have to hold two conversations as we walked around, soaking it all in.

Our mums have said we should have a theme for the party, like black tie and cocktails dresses or something. My mum suggested a masquerade, but we vetoed that. I suggested coming in costume as your favourite book or tv character or even superhero, but Houston vetoed that. He suggested something along the lines of Rocky Horror, just for the shits and giggles, but I do not want to see our parents, much less other family members, dressed as Frank-N-Furter or someone else in “sexy” costumes. Hell no. Even the mental images made me want to bleach my eyeballs.

So, after some debate, we settled on the original idea of black tie and cocktail dresses. The venue lends itself to something so classy as well.

“So… what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Houston asks as we drive home.

“Just that I wish I didn’t have to work tonight. I miss you already and I haven’t even left yet.”

“You say the sweetest things,” he says with a smile. “I’ll miss you too. But I do have to pop in on Jensen and the boys.”

“Really? So, while I’m alone in my bunk and thinking of you, I can’t FaceTime you?”

“Not tonight, baby,” he says sadly. “I have to hear this new song Jensen wrote. He’s been nagging me all week, but I’ve been too consumed with you.”

“Will Lawrence be there?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I can’t go on avoiding him forever, anyway, he’s my manager. I guess it’s time to face the music.”

“Is he really that pissed?”

“Dunno. I’ve been deleting his texts without reading and have refused to listen to his voicemails.”

“You’re in for a very interesting evening then.”

I can’t help but laugh, even though I probably shouldn’t.

Lawrence wasn’t best pleased about the idea of us getting engaged in the way we did, even if he was actually happy for us at the same time. I think he’s just got a bug up his ass because he thought Houston was going on the show to clear the air about him being gay, not to propose on national TV.

“What time do you have to go to work?”

“Six thirty. Why?”

“Was just thinking that we could get dirty before taking a shower together before you head off for the night.”

“I would love to, considering I didn’t get laid in the driveway earlier.”

We both burst out laughing. Sometimes I have such a one-track mind. But I can’t help it with such a handsome fiancé. Having a healthy sex life is definitely a major bonus.

Now I can’t get those thoughts out of my head. Closing my eyes, I picture Houston naked except for a towel around his waist. He’s dripping wet, fresh from the shower and I watch as a droplet of water trails down his abs to his waistline before disappearing into the towel.

I ache for him, for his kisses, his touch, the way his muscles flex with each movement he makes. My cock begins to stir as I conjure up an image of him down on his knees. He doesn’t touch me at first, he just looks at me through hooded eyes, the fire in them burning brighter than any fire I’ve ever had to tackle in my line of work.

Slowly, he reaches out his hand to cup my balls as his warm mouth comes into contact with the tip of my erection. I’m harder than I ever remember being and it hurts so bad, but oh so good at the same time. I burn for him, I want him to dominate me, to take me and brand me as his.

“Earth to Culhwch.” His voice shatters the illusion into a million pieces. Damn!

“Sorry, I was miles away.”

“Where were you?”

“I was in our bedroom with you naked in between my legs.”

He lets out a guttural sound which makes my cock twitch even more. As if I wasn’t horny enough already. No, horny doesn’t cover it. It’s more like concupiscent.

I look to my right and see Houston’s mischievous grin. A ball of anticipation rolls around in my stomach. I need him so much right now. God, we can’t get home fast enough. I plan to have him naked before we even get to the bottom of the staircase.

We pull up outside the house before I even realise it, and I’m out of the car before it even stops moving.

“Woah, where’s the fire?” Houston shouts as I get my key in the lock.

“I think it’s upstairs in the bedroom,” I call over my shoulder with a wink.

I see his eyes light up as he locks the car and hurries to catch up with me.

In a matter of moments, I’m pulling my T-shirt off over my head as he strips out of his jeans. It feels like it takes an eternity until we’re both naked, but then his warm, strong hands are on my body and all sense of time is lost.

Soft lips claim mine in a dizzying kiss. There’s not an inch of space between us, our bodies flush as our tongues dance together. I feel his erection grind against me and it’s like an electric shock runs through my body. My blood sings in my veins as he reaches down and strokes my cock.

On stage, Houston Wainwright is a rock god. He’s commanding, enticing, sexy… his aura burns brighter than the brightest star.

But in front of me, naked, he’s not just a god, he’s something else entirely. He’s just as commanding, burns just as brightly, but there’s something so much more spectacular about him up close.

Hot lips kiss a trail down the side of my neck, across to my Adam’s apple then down over the ridges of my chest. He ends up on his knees in front of me, and if there’s ever been a sight to bring a man to his knees, it’s this.

I tried not to love this man. Told myself I was fine without him, better off, even. But all that time I was lying. My love for him is all-consuming. It’s equal parts infatuation, heady desire, and an almost unhealthy obsession. It’s all I can think about.

A firm hand comes up to cup my balls as he takes the tip of me in his mouth, much like in my fantasy on the ride home.

My eyes fall closed as he takes me further in his mouth and uses his free hand to stroke me. He draws out all the feelings in me that have long since been dormant. A mix of hedonistic lust and a passion unknown in my life until he came into it like a whirlwind.

This man, this… force of nature, he’s really something else entirely. I don’t know if there’s a word in the English language that’s capable of describing him.

My hand grips his hair firmly as my head falls back. A guttural moan leaves me as he takes me in as far as he can. Feeling the tip of my cock hitting the back of his throat is a pleasure I am incapable of putting into words. Which is a good thing right now, as I don’t think I would be capable of speech even if I tried.

Firm hands slide up my thighs before gripping my ass, kneading it with deft fingers. He holds me still while increasing the rhythm of his movements with his mouth. A warm, tingling sensation begins to build in my balls and I know I can’t hold my orgasm at bay for very much longer—much to my chagrin, because I’d let this go on forever if I could.

“Baby,” I call softly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums around my cock and damn if it doesn’t send a tingle all the way up my spine.

“I c–can’t h–hold out…”

Houston doesn’t speak, merely uses his hand and mouth in tandem to make me weak at the knees.

My orgasm builds at a pace that seems inhumanly possible, and before long, I come in hot salty spurts down the back of his throat.

He licks and sucks me clean until there’s not a drop left before leaning back on his haunches.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he says as he looks up at me with a salacious grin.

“You’re one to talk. I think that was the best blowjob I have ever been given in my life.”

“Better than the one with the ice cube the other night?”

“Much. Let’s go to bed.”

I hold out a hand and he takes it as he stands to his full height. His physique is impressive, almost imposing, but he’s a pussycat. My big, soft, cuddly teddy bear.

Running my free hand down over his abdomen, I let it wander down to his erection. I trace circles with my thumb, spreading his pre-cum over his tip.

A shudder runs through him and there’s a wicked gleam in his eyes. Fuck. This man has my libido at an all-time high.

I take the stairs two at a time, and Houston catches up to me and swats my ass so hard I can guarantee there’ll be a red handprint there for a month.

Pushing in front of me, he throws the bedroom door open and grabs my hand, yanking me forward so hard I almost topple over. He grabs my hips, steadying me with a quiet chuckle. I swat at his chest, which earns me another laugh.

Gripping my wrists, he tugs me forwards.

“Stay here a second. I have something for you,” he whispers huskily.

I can’t help but watch the strong muscles of his thighs as he lifts the bed to access the storage compartment underneath.

What on earth is he doing?

He stands with a triumphant grin and a bulky carrier bag in his hand.

What could he have in there? What’s going through his mind right now? I haven’t got a fucking clue. But I find I don’t really care either. This is Houston we’re talking about, so anything he’s thinking is bound to be something I never knew I wanted but don’t know how I’ve lived without.