Love Comes Silently(Senses 1) (22 page)

Patrick nipped at Ken’s lower lip, and he whimpered. Then he moved away, and Ken closed his eyes as Patrick peppered his skin with licks and kisses as he worked his way down his body again. Ken’s cock throbbed with each movement, and as Patrick reached his stomach, Ken held his breath in the hope Patrick would keep going. He did. Patrick licked down the side of his cock. “Yes…,” Ken hissed, and Patrick licked up his entire length before sliding his lips around his head. Ken felt Patrick forcefully grip his length, lifting it away from his body.

Ken’s breath flew from his lungs as Patrick took him deep and didn’t stop until Ken felt the back of Patrick’s throat. “Patrick, love!” Ken cried, thankful the door was closed, even though he really didn’t stop to think about it much. Patrick stilled and then slowly lifted his head, his lips sliding up Ken’s shaft, caressing the head before sliding off. Ken opened his eyes, lifting his head to see Patrick’s sparkling eyes and mischievous grin. He wondered what Patrick had in mind next, but he didn’t have to wait long to find out. Patrick opened his mouth and with almost agonizing slowness slid his lips down Ken’s length. Ken wanted desperately to thrust his hips forward, to drive himself between Patrick’s lips, but he restrained himself, gripping the bedding as he gave himself to Patrick.

Patrick slid his hands up Ken’s chest, sucking him deep and hard, and when Patrick’s touch reached Ken’s nipples, Patrick tweaked both of them, sending bolts of lightning up his spine. “You know just how to touch me,” Ken gasped, and Patrick did it again. Tiny lights sparkled behind Ken’s eyes, and he held his breath, wondering what elsePatrick had up his sleeve. Patrick lifted his head, his lips sliding along and then off Ken’s shaft. Ken groaned at the loss, but Patrick kissed away that groan. He took ownership of Ken’s mouth with his tongue, and Ken whimpered and quivered as Patrick possessed him. When Patrick pulled away, Ken looked deeply into his eyes and swore he could see deep into Patrick’s beautifully pure soul. The sight was almost overwhelming. Ken’s mouth went dry, and he kissed Patrick again and again.

Ken felt Patrick pat h is hip lightly, and he turned over. Patrick lay on top of him, his weight pressing Ken into the mattress, and Ken felt Patrick lick his neck. He knew what was coming, because Patrick had a thing for his backside. No one he’d ever been with could make Ken quiver the way Patrick could when he used his tongue… there. Ken arched upward as Patrick slipped down his back, licking a long line down his spine. As he got to the small of Ken’s back, he licked small circles over Ken’s skin, and Ken groaned deeply, thrusting his butt up and back into Patrick’s face. Ken knew he was being completely wanton, but he wanted to be for his lover. Ken wanted to give Patrick everything he possibly could, and when Patrick cupped Ken’s butt, spreading his cheeks apart, Ken groaned in anticipation. Patrick’s tongue on his skin, no matter where he chose to use it, sent Ken into orbit, but when Patrick teased the top of his crack and slowly swirled his tongue over, Ken arched his back like a cat, anticipating Patrick’s touch.

He wasn’t disappointed, but he had to wait until Patrick was good and ready. First, he massaged Ken’s cheeks, working his thumbs deep, ghosting them right next to the sensitive skin of his opening without actually touching it. Ken could barely stand it and regularly begged and pleaded for more, but Patrick seemed to have infinite patience, stripping away Ken’s restraint layer by layer until he could take no more.

A swipe of Patrick’s tongue over his opening made Ken whine loudly from the depths of his chest. Patrick blew on his now wet skin, and Ken threw his head back, stopping himself from howling as Patrick played his body like a fine instrument. Patrick worked the skin around his opening again and again. Ken’s muscles throbbed and pulsed, begging for Patrick to do more, but he only had one speed. Never had Ken felt so loved in his life. His entire body was on fire, and each nerve approached overload. “Please, Patrick, don’t make me wait any longer,” Ken whispered, his throat dry, voice raspy as he gasped for breath.

Everything stopped. Patrick’s hands rested on his butt, but he didn’t move them. Ken peered to the side and saw Patrick staring at him. He wasn’t doing anything, just looking and staring. Ken stared back and saw love shining in Patrick’s eyes. He leanedforward, and Ken rolled over to meet Patrick’s lips. He wanted nothing more than to feel and taste his Patrick. Ken could see there were many things Patrick wanted to tell him—that was plain by the swirl in his eyes.

“We’ll talk, love, I promise you,” Ken said, and Patrick nodded. Lifting his legs, Ken wrapped them around Patrick’s waist, holding Patrick around the neck with his arms as they kissed. He wanted Patrick badly and so intensely that he could almost feel him inside his body already.

Patrick slid his hand down Ken’s side and then over his hip and thigh before skimming over his butt. Ken stiffened when he felt Patrick press to his entrance, and soon a single finger breached his body. Ken arched his back as Patrick’s finger sank deep inside him. This was what he wanted, and he gave Patrick a bruising kiss that left him with the faintest taste of blood in his mouth. Ken eased up, not wanting to hurt Patrick, as a second finger joined the first. “Yes, Patrick, more… I need more.” Patrick wouldn’t be rushed, and Ken felt Patrick scissor his fingers inside him. His breath caught and he swallowed hard, whimpering softly with excitement.

The fingers inside him slipped out, leaving him empty. Ken felt Patrick shift on the bed and then heard the nightstand drawer open. Ken felt his patience slipping away, but forced himself to wait until Patrick had the condom on and had thoroughly lubed him. “Will you let me?” Ken asked, and Patrick nodded, looking a bit confused.

Ken patted Patrick’s leg, and he rolled off K en’s body, resting on the mattress. Ken knelt and guided Patrick to the center of the bed. Then he straddled him, positioned his thick cock, and slowly lowered his body onto Patrick. The stretch and burn were incredible. He stopped and waited before sinking further, resting his hands on Patrick’s strong chest. When his butt rested against Patrick’s hips, Ken sighed and closed his eyes. The feelings were overwhelming, and he had to take a little time to adjust. Then, slowly, he lifted his body, Patrick’s cock pulling in him as it slipped from his body. “Damn, Patrick, with you I never know which is better—out”—Ken held himself with Patrick just inside him—“or in.” Ken sank down onto Patrick’s cock and felt him throb and twitch inside him. “You always feel right, like you were made for my body.” Patrick nodded enthusiastically, and Ken took that as agreement as he lifted his body once again.

Ken could feel Patrick shuddering beneath him, and he knew he was driving Patrick out of his mind, which was good, because Patrick always did that for him. Ken watched as Patrick’s eyes began to boggle, and he clenched his muscles, taking Patrick deeply once again. If it hadn’t seemed too incredibly spectacular, Ken probably would have smiled at the way Patrick’s stomach tightened and his mouth hung open. Ken loved that he could do that to Patrick.

Swaying his hips, Ken rode Patrick like a horse, with small movements that caused Patrick’s cock to rub along that spot inside in each and every time. So it took him by surprise when Patrick surged forward, holding him close as he flipped them on the bed. Ken knew Patrick would have growled if he could. Instead, he heard a breathy sound, and then Patrick was driving mercilessly into him. Ken could tell that Patrick’s control had been stripped away. The bed rocked, and Ken clutched the blankets as Patrick drove him to heaven. There was no stopping him. Thank God, because stopping was the last thing Ken wanted. Patrick snapped his hips, driving his cock deep, and Ken writhed on the bed, trying to maintain the last of his control. He wanted the pressure and excitement that were already building in his body to last, so he refrained from stroking himself, but Patrick had other ideas. Patrick enclosed Ken’s cock in a firm grip, and Ken clamped his eyes closed, placing himself completely in Patrick’s care as his release continued to build.

“Patrick, I can’t wait…,” Ken said breathily, and Patrick stroked harder, tugging him to the pinnacle of desire before pushing him over the edge. Ken cried out and came all over himself as he felt Patrick throb deep inside him.

Ken was wrung out and bathed in sweat as he collapsed onto the bed. He could barely move, and he saw Patrick’s eyes roll back into his head just as he tugged Patrick down onto him. Ken held Patrick close as they breathed softly into each other’s ears. Ken desperately needed to catch his breath, and from the sound of things, Patrick did too, so Ken closed his eyes and held onto Patrick. Ken was so wrung out, he thought for a few seconds that he was going to nod off, but then Patrick shifted and got out of the bed. Ken wondered where he was going until he heard the water start, and then Patrick returned, extending his hand, and Ken got out of bed as well, following Patrick.

They stepped under the water, and Ken’s legs felt wobbly. Luckily, Patrick held him tight as the water washed over them. Patrick kissed him softly, tenderly, and then reached for the soap to begin washing him. His touch was so gentle and caring that Ken closed his eyes and soaked in every sensation. This was almost too good to be true. Patrick was an incredibly wonderful man, and the fact that he loved him was a little heady for Ken. This man loved him, and Ken felt the same way. He was passionately in love with Patrick.

Ken stepped under the water to wash off the soap, and then it was his turn. Ken laved all the attention and care on Patrick that he deserved. This wasn’t about sex, but true intimacy and simple love. Ken caressed Patrick’s chest and shoulders, stroking the hard muscles before continuing to Patrick’s legs and back. He explored the planes and angles of Patrick’s body as though it were the first time he’d done this. Everything seemed new, and Ken desperately needed to revel in it.

Patrick rinsed off, and Ken stopped the water before getting out and handing Patrick a towel. They dried off with grins on their faces, and after hanging up the towels, they turned off the light and left the bathroom. Patrick climbed into bed, and Ken leaned over to kiss him before putting on his robe. “I’ll be right back,” he said and then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

In the dimly lit hall, Ken made his way to Hanna’s room, hoping they hadn’t disturbed her. Hanna was thankfully still asleep, looking like his little angel. After replacing the covers she’d kicked off, Ken returned to the bedroom and climbed into bed next to Patrick, who pulled him close. Patrick kissed him softly, caringly, and Ken returned it, his eyes already closing. He didn’t have any illusions that everything would be all right. He didn’t know what was going to happen with Hanna, but he felt safer knowing Patrick was there. Ken hugged Patrick close, curling to him in the cool room as sleep overtook him.

Ken woke hours later. Peering at the cl ock, he saw it was three in the morning. He stared at the ceiling, listening to Patrick’s slow, rhythmic breathing for a while before carefully getting out of bed. There was no way he was going to fall back to sleep, so he slipped on an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt before quietly leaving the room. Ken checked on Hanna and then continued down the stairs to his studio. On nights like this, when he couldn’t sleep, he usually worked. It seemed to be the only way to get his mind to let go. After turning on the lights, Ken stood in the center of the room and looked around. He’d begun a number of canvases over the past few months and he’d finished some of them, but there was one that was playing in his mind. It was the portrait of Patrick he’d begun all those months ago. He’d thought he’d finished it, but after last night, he knew there was something missing. As he searched for the canvas, he carefully placed all the ones he’d done of Hanna together. At the bottom of those, Ken located the canvas he wanted and set it on his easel. He was right. The eyes weren’t what he wanted. Those had come to him early, and now he realized they were missing a certain light that should definitely be there. He opened the drawers and began placing tubes of paint on the table beside him and then grabbed his palette and a detail brush.

Before long, Ken was deep into his work. The small touches he saw in his mind made the painting come alive. Ken stepped back after adding the tiniest reflection of light into Patrick’s eye and smiled. He could see him on the stage, singing his heart out, giving it everything he had and loving every second of it. Last night, Ken had seen the joy he wanted, and while he’d been close in the original work, only now was he able to finish it.

Ken lifted his gaze from the canvas as a sound from outside the room reached his ears. Patrick stood in the doorway, wearing only jeans, slung low on his hips. Ken set his brush aside, looking over his work one last time. His first art teacher had always said greatness came when you learned when to stop, and Ken knew he was done. Motioning Patrick over, he hoped to see that his lover liked it. Patrick stepped into the room, and Ken turned the easel so Patrick could see the painting.

Patrick stood stock -still as soon as he saw it. Ken had thought Patrick might be surprised, but he simply stared until tears ran down his cheeks. “I hope you like it,” Ken said softly, and Patrick nodded, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “I started it a while ago, but was only able to finish it tonight.” Patrick nodded, still staring at the painting. Ken found a tablet and pencil, handing them to Patrick. “Please tell me what you think.”


How did you know
?” Patrick wrote, his hand shaking a bit.

“I’ve watched you for months, but mostly I listened to your music.” Ken stepped closer, wiping another tear that ran down Patrick’s cheek. “I didn’t do this to hurt you, and I’ll destroy it if you want me to.” That idea hurt, but he would if that was what Patrick wanted.


Please don’t
,” Patrick scribbled, shaking his head vehemently. “
It’s beautiful
,” Patrick wrote, and the knot in Ken’s stomach released.

“I did others of you,” Ken explained as he slowly walked to the far wall, turning around four more canvases, one life-sized. Patrick’s eyes widened when he saw the painting of himself barefoot, wearing only a pair of jeans. “That’s how you look when you’re working outside,” Ken explained as he pointed to the full-size portrait. “I wanted to capture you when you seemed happiest.” Ken had thought a number of times of painting a nude of Patrick, but he wouldn’t do that unless he sat for him. There were other portraits, some completed, most in various stages of work.

Other books

The Vietnam Reader by Stewart O'Nan
Soul Identity by Dennis Batchelder
Taken Over by Z. Fraillon
You Can't Kill a Corpse by Louis Trimble
The Enchanter by Vladimir Nabokov
Bobby's Diner by Wingate, Susan