Read Born to Be Wylde for Free Online Page A
Authors: Jan Irving
revolving creation, and he laughed too, watching as the column under their joined fingers flattened, becoming a white plate.
“Magic,” he whispered, awed.
Ken lifted their hands away from the piece, and Wylde looked at him. In candlelight the bruising was softened, and his golden skin seemed heightened, soft like peach fuzz to the touch, the wisps of a beard beginning around his lips. “I’ve never shared this with anyone. You aren’t very good, Wylde.” A grin touched Ken’s lips. “But I feel like you’re inside me, like you understand this isn’t a hobby.”
“It’s passion,” Wylde agreed. “Kiss?”
“If I kiss you, I don’t think I can stop. Not until we….” Ken blushed, eyes sweeping down.
Wylde wanted to heft Ken over his shoulder and drag him back to his cave. Then there would be no more talk about what they shouldn’t do. When they touched, they burned…. Ken had to touch him. Wylde only felt human, like a man and not an animal, in his arms. If Ken didn’t want him, Wylde knew he’d run away into his woods again.
“Come with me,” Ken said, getting up and grimacing a little as if his erection was as full and aching as Wylde’s.
“More talk?” Wylde asked. If he had to do it, he guessed he could. Ken was his mate, and he had to please him.
Ken shook his head. “I wish to invite you to my bedroom,” he said formally.
Wylde grabbed Ken close, and they strained together in a kiss. “Hurry, Ken. Hurry.”
“You’re hurting, baby?” Ken asked, his eyes heavylidded. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Wylde lifted him high in his arms so his feet dangled. “Wylde!” Ken gasped, laughing.
“Your bedroom, Ken. Hurry!”
K EN ’ S bedroom wasn’t like any other room Wylde had been in since coming out of the forest. He knew it was different when Ken said, “Take off your shoes, please,” just outside a wood-and-paper sliding door. Ken saw his interest. “It’s a shoji screen made with cedar and mulberry. The rest of the cabin I left simple, western, but here I wanted to feel Japanese.”
Wylde slipped off his handmade moccasins, kneeling at Ken’s feet. He couldn’t resist leaning forward and kissing his thigh, a feeling inside him like a balloon so full it would explode any moment. “Ken,” he whispered. Ken’s taste. Ken’s scent. Ken’s arms coming around him, pulling him close.
He was Ken’s.
W YLDE stared at the bathtub, hot water pouring in from a freestanding wooden spigot. He cocked his head.
“It’s an ofuro, a Japanese-style soaker tub crafted of hinoki,” Ken explained. “I renovated the bathroom with my father’s help. I wanted something deep that I could really immerse myself in.”
“Tight fit,” Wylde commented. There was one bench, which ran along the elliptical side. The tub was surrounded by large round stones, which felt warm to the feet. One piece of driftwood arched between the bath and the window looking out at some tall lacy ferns.
“I’ve never shared it with anyone, so I wouldn’t know.” Again the hint of color in Ken’s cheeks. He reached for a blue container and struggled to open it.
Wylde took it and put some muscle into it. He returned it with a cocked brow.
“I swear it was childproof or something!” Ken growled. “I’m a very capable deputy, you know.” Using a seashell, he cast some salts in the tub, and they sizzled, sending out an ocean-and-flower scent. Seeing Wylde’s quizzical look, he added, “It’s Kama Sutra bath salts. I have, um, a whole kit given to me at Christmas by my papa a couple of years ago. He was hoping I’d meet a nice boy, settle down.”
Wylde noticed the jar was full, so it didn’t look like Ken had opened it before. Ken went to him, his hands and Wylde’s hands colliding on Wylde’s leggings as they pulled them open. His penis fell out, unsubtle, hard and thrusting to the side.
Ken welcomed it into his palms, stroking gently.
“Ken!” It hurt now. He needed….
“It’s
“Magic,” he whispered, awed.
Ken lifted their hands away from the piece, and Wylde looked at him. In candlelight the bruising was softened, and his golden skin seemed heightened, soft like peach fuzz to the touch, the wisps of a beard beginning around his lips. “I’ve never shared this with anyone. You aren’t very good, Wylde.” A grin touched Ken’s lips. “But I feel like you’re inside me, like you understand this isn’t a hobby.”
“It’s passion,” Wylde agreed. “Kiss?”
“If I kiss you, I don’t think I can stop. Not until we….” Ken blushed, eyes sweeping down.
Wylde wanted to heft Ken over his shoulder and drag him back to his cave. Then there would be no more talk about what they shouldn’t do. When they touched, they burned…. Ken had to touch him. Wylde only felt human, like a man and not an animal, in his arms. If Ken didn’t want him, Wylde knew he’d run away into his woods again.
“Come with me,” Ken said, getting up and grimacing a little as if his erection was as full and aching as Wylde’s.
“More talk?” Wylde asked. If he had to do it, he guessed he could. Ken was his mate, and he had to please him.
Ken shook his head. “I wish to invite you to my bedroom,” he said formally.
Wylde grabbed Ken close, and they strained together in a kiss. “Hurry, Ken. Hurry.”
“You’re hurting, baby?” Ken asked, his eyes heavylidded. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Wylde lifted him high in his arms so his feet dangled. “Wylde!” Ken gasped, laughing.
“Your bedroom, Ken. Hurry!”
K EN ’ S bedroom wasn’t like any other room Wylde had been in since coming out of the forest. He knew it was different when Ken said, “Take off your shoes, please,” just outside a wood-and-paper sliding door. Ken saw his interest. “It’s a shoji screen made with cedar and mulberry. The rest of the cabin I left simple, western, but here I wanted to feel Japanese.”
Wylde slipped off his handmade moccasins, kneeling at Ken’s feet. He couldn’t resist leaning forward and kissing his thigh, a feeling inside him like a balloon so full it would explode any moment. “Ken,” he whispered. Ken’s taste. Ken’s scent. Ken’s arms coming around him, pulling him close.
He was Ken’s.
W YLDE stared at the bathtub, hot water pouring in from a freestanding wooden spigot. He cocked his head.
“It’s an ofuro, a Japanese-style soaker tub crafted of hinoki,” Ken explained. “I renovated the bathroom with my father’s help. I wanted something deep that I could really immerse myself in.”
“Tight fit,” Wylde commented. There was one bench, which ran along the elliptical side. The tub was surrounded by large round stones, which felt warm to the feet. One piece of driftwood arched between the bath and the window looking out at some tall lacy ferns.
“I’ve never shared it with anyone, so I wouldn’t know.” Again the hint of color in Ken’s cheeks. He reached for a blue container and struggled to open it.
Wylde took it and put some muscle into it. He returned it with a cocked brow.
“I swear it was childproof or something!” Ken growled. “I’m a very capable deputy, you know.” Using a seashell, he cast some salts in the tub, and they sizzled, sending out an ocean-and-flower scent. Seeing Wylde’s quizzical look, he added, “It’s Kama Sutra bath salts. I have, um, a whole kit given to me at Christmas by my papa a couple of years ago. He was hoping I’d meet a nice boy, settle down.”
Wylde noticed the jar was full, so it didn’t look like Ken had opened it before. Ken went to him, his hands and Wylde’s hands colliding on Wylde’s leggings as they pulled them open. His penis fell out, unsubtle, hard and thrusting to the side.
Ken welcomed it into his palms, stroking gently.
“Ken!” It hurt now. He needed….
“It’s