Saint-Cyr introduced Wulf to the captain and crew, ordered dinner for the two of them -- to be served in three hours, no sooner -- and then took Wulf to his private stateroom. It held only a desk with a built-in bench seat and an oversized bed with a pull down mesh covering that protected sleepers during low gravity.

Finally alone. Saint-Cyr shut the door, locked it and leaned back against it. I've been waiting for this all day.

Wulf ambled around the room, trailing his fingers across the built-in dresser. Dressed in conservative business clothes, he seemed to fit in the room as if he'd been born there. Wulf sat on the end of the bed and gazed back at him with an appealing mix of shyness and come-hither seduction.

Saint-Cyr shrugged out of his jacket. "Is the room cool enough for you?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Good." He started opening his shirt. "I thought we'd start with a nice hot shower." Wulf blushed, as he expected. "I want to hear all about that hot shower-sex fantasy you confessed to having."

Wulf cleared his throat. "Nothing much to tell."

Saint-Cyr chuckled. "Oh, no. You're not getting out of it that easily. I want every delicious detail."

The younger man stood and crossed to him, rested both hands on his chest. "We can do what you want first."

"No." Bracing his feet wider apart, he drew Wulf between them and up against his body. "I want to hear what turns you on." He unfastened the top button of Wulf's white shirt. "I'm going to do everything to you that you dreamed about."

A small sound of pleasure left Wulf's mouth as he leaned up to kiss him. Saint-Cyr drew him close, hands sliding down the planes of Wulf's firm body to his hard ass. He lifted them and held Wulf's face between his hands as he took his mouth in a drugging kiss. Lips still connected, he traded places with him and pushed Wulf up against the door. He licked his mouth, sweeping his tongue inside to taste every part. He ripped open Wulf's shirt, shoved it back off his shoulders and down his arms.

Wulf let it fall to the floor, reached over his head, and pulled off the tee-shirt.

"Don't move, Wulf. Let me look at you." All that tawny bared skin, his chest rising and falling... "Mmm. You are luscious. Masculine. I love that about you." Saint-Cyr ran his hands across Wulf's chest. His skin felt cool, the texture perfect, his muscles hard. "I never thought you'd be smooth."

Wulf lifted his whiskey-colored gaze. "I shaved it the other night when I got drunk." He gave a half-hearted laugh. "I have no idea what possessed me to do such a thing."

"I'm glad you did. I like you this way. Keep it, love." He bent and ran his tongue across one brown nipple, smiling when Wulf shivered and tossed back his head. "You like this, don't you?" He swirled his tongue across it again, making it pebble.

Wulf made an incoherent sound and clasped a hand to the back of Saint-Cyr's head.

He laved the nipple and sucked it into his mouth. Dragging his teeth across it, he breathed on the pale, wet skin. Wulf arched his back.

"I'm going to make you writhe beneath me tonight, Wulf." He kissed his way up his throat. "I want to hear you cry out your pleasure."

Wulf held his lower lip between his teeth, head back.

"I want to know what you sound like when you climax." Saint-Cyr licked Wulf's throat, sucked a bit of his skin into his mouth and bit it. "I want to hear you groan. Hear you whimper beneath me."

Wulf whimpered now; the sound low and dark with the promise of passion.

"I'm going to take you again and again." He licked the outer edge of Wulf's ear. "My cock is going to fill you," he whispered. "Every part of you. It's going to be in your mouth, and in your sweet, hot ass." He gripped him there and tugged him hard against his groin. "I'm going to claim every part of you tonight. I'm going to make you mine."