The Empty Egg Read online

  The Empty Egg

  By Ofelia Gränd

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2021 Ofelia Gränd

  ISBN 9781646568321

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  Leonie Duncan, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you!

  * * * *

  The Empty Egg

  By Ofelia Gränd

  Aiden shoved Og out of the way as the darned dog tried to take the large colourful Easter egg from his hands. It was no easy feat; Og wasn’t a small dog, and when he put his mind to something, it was almost impossible to divert him.

  Aiden sighed and raked a finger over the armrest of the ratty sofa. He would give it a bit longer before he suggested buying a new one, not that Aiden’s massage studio generated much money, but this one needed to go. He truly believed having to look at it, day in and day out, would lead to an early death. Tristan had to be blind if he couldn’t see it, not that it surprised Aiden. If there was one thing he’d learnt since moving here a couple of months ago, it was that material things didn’t matter to Tristan. It was nice, in a way, but sometimes Aiden wished he wanted them to have a beautiful home. Today, it would be beautiful. He glanced over at the kitchen area and prepared to get up.

  Tristan would be home any minute now. The nervousness fluttering in Aiden’s belly increased with each tick of the clock. What if he had it all wrong? What if Tristan would be upset?

  He lifted the top off the cardboard Easter egg and popped a piece of fudge into his mouth, frantically chewing while keeping the egg out of Og’s reach. He shouldn’t eat them. He’d bought them especially for Tristan. Chocolate fudge, vanilla fudge, peppermint fudge—they all tasted good.

  Og gave up on the idea of getting to sink his slimy teeth into the egg, for the time being, at least, and with a huff took up his usual place in front of the wood-burning stove.

  Aiden tried to ignore the cool feel of satin against his fingers when he reached into the egg for more fudge. His hands shook slightly as he pieced it back together. He needed to set the table. Everything was good to go except the table, and he knew just how he would decorate it.

  Tristan would be so surprised when he saw the colourful tablecloth, the flowers, and the napkins. No other holiday inspired creativity like Easter did. Okay, maybe Halloween, but there were no bright colours then.

  Aiden wiped his sweaty palms on his new jeans—they made his arse look edible, he hoped Tristan would like them—and put the plates on the table. Before folding the napkins into rabbits, like he’d seen on YouTube, he fetched the egg from the coffee table—should he place it on the table?—righted the yellow tulips in the vase…and ate another piece of Tristan’s fudge. Pecan, possibly the best so far.

  He went to fetch the dessert spoons, slipping another piece into his mouth when he returned. Creamy almond melted on his tongue, and he sighed. Bliss! Too bad it didn’t calm the desperate hammering of his heart. He ate another piece, groaned, and tried to ignore his guilty conscious that was telling him not to have any more of Tristan’s sweets.

  Maybe he should hide the egg. He ran his fingers through his curls, making sure they weren’t too badly tangled. Reaching into the egg again, he almost snatched his hand back when the smooth fabric brushed against his hand. What would it feel like to wear them? Cool and silky, sliding against his skin. Aiden let out an unsteady breath. What if he’d got it all wrong? Heat spread over his cheeks. Maybe he should forget about the egg altogether, hide it, and pretend he’d never planned to give it to Tris.

  He took another piece—salted caramel. Fuck! He shouldn’t have eaten that. He’d only bought a couple of pieces, and he’d already eaten some in the car back from Whiteport. He’d gone for no other reason than to buy fudge at the chocolatier, and it was fucking expensive. He’d bought the jeans, too, as he was already in the city, but they weren’t the reason he’d gone there. Tristan was.

  He checked the vegetables in the oven. There was still time, but Tristan needed to get his fine arse home soon or it would all be ruined. Aiden reached over the plates to snatch another piece of fudge, digging around but feeling only the satin and the soft elastic lace. In one erratic movement, he tipped the egg over, almost bringing down one of the wine glasses with it.

  Two sorry pieces.

  Aiden swallowed, anger and sadness warring in his chest. He’d eaten Tristan’s luxury fudge. He couldn’t give him an Easter egg with two pathetic pieces, that was…pathetic.

  Og’s honey-coloured eyes held none of their usual understanding. If Aiden hadn’t known better, he’d have said that look was downright accusing. Breathing out a puff of air, he slunk down onto one of the kitchen chairs and brought one of the last remaining pieces of fudge to his mouth. Irish coffee. He grimaced. He didn’t like Irish coffee. Tristan did, though.

  A lump formed in his throat, and he cursed the way his eyes burned. He’d planned the dinner so carefully, wanting to give Tristan something special for their first Easter together.

  The last piece—a beautiful banana swirl—tasted bitter though he knew it wasn’t. His belly was full, and he wasn’t nearly as excited about dinner as he’d been a few minutes ago.

  He glanced down into the egg. The black satin and bright-red lace he’d placed there glared mockingly at him.

  Aiden’s palms turned sweaty. What if he had it all wrong? A couple of weeks ago, he’d been doing laundry, and with Tristan finally building a closet for their bedroom, he’d put all their underwear in the new drawers. At the bottom of the ugly plastic crate Tristan had previously kept his boxers in, he’d found a pair of pale-blue lace knickers. At first, he’d thought…But they weren’t Tristan’s size, and they weren’t women’s smalls, so Aiden had figured…But what if he had the wrong idea?

  Staring down at the lingerie, he forced himself to breathe. He couldn’t give Tristan an Easter egg with lingerie in it. He’d definitely take that the wrong way. His pulse picked up again as he lifted the flimsy fabric out of its brightly coloured cardboard casing—a black satin thong, a thin red lace suspender belt, and black fine-fishnet hosiery.

  Crushing the silky material in a white-knuckled grip, he got up and headed for the bedroom.

  His hands were once again sweaty as he unbuttoned his jeans and peeled them off. How to put this stuff on? He quickly stepped out of his briefs and gulped as he sorted out the thong—not much fabric.

  As he pulled the thong up, the thin strings rolled against his thighs, and his cock twitched as the cool, silky material cupped it. Aiden smiled and moved around a little. They fitted perfectly. He f
elt naughty as the air caressed his buttocks. Peering over his shoulder, he tried to get a look at his butt—they really needed to get a mirror up in here.

  Next, he reached for the red lace; the straps dangled as he tested the elastic. He brought it to his hips and moved it up and down a few times to decide how low it should be. He’d never seen anyone wearing suspender belts in real life—he’d definitely never thought he’d wear one—but now there was an excited flutter in his belly. His cock began to swell in the tiny satin knickers as he reached around himself and hooked the delicate lace closed.

  Once he’d succeeded, he ran his hands over the uneven yet soft textile. The metal clasp tickled as it swayed against his thighs, making Aiden giggle.

  Only the stockings left. He grabbed them and sat down on the bed, ignoring his cock straining in the knickers at the soft plush contact of the comforter brushing against his bare buttocks. Why had he never worn thongs before? Simply moving around was titillating.

  He bunched the fishnets, afraid to ruin them even before he got them on. He put his toes into one stocking and carefully slid it over his heel, up over his calf to his knee, and up to his thigh. The fabric gently hugged him, making him grin as he flexed his toes. Standing, he slipped the little rubber nub into the stocking and fastened the clasp in the front before doing the same with the clasp in the back.

  When both stockings were on and secured, he stood there, twisting and turning to admire himself.

  His cock throbbed and strove to get out of the snug satin, the butterflies in his stomach fluttered around, and a slight flush spread over his cheeks. His eyes fell on his jeans. Could he even have them on over? The clasps would most definitely show. No time to think about it now, though. Og was barking, and a car was approaching the cabin. Tristan’s car. Aiden quickly dived for the safety of his jeans.

  What would Tristan say?

  * * * *

  Tristan leaned back on his chair, narrowing his eyes as he watched Aiden. Something was up, and he did not like it. Aiden had rushed down the stairs when he’d come home, and while the dinner had been lovely, Tristan couldn’t quite enjoy it. Aiden was avoiding eye contact and talking too fast. His hands fluttered about, and he’d bounced around on his chair as they ate.

  What could’ve made Aiden this nervous?

  Tristan’s stomach clenched. Aiden wouldn’t break up with him over Easter dinner, would he? Without thinking, he sought out Og with his gaze. He didn’t know what he’d do without Og. The dog had been no more than a little puppy when Tristan’s marriage had failed, but he was still the one who had held Tristan together. When Paul had left, Tristan had been a wreck, and even though he and Aiden hadn’t been together for more than a few months, he knew it would hurt as much if not more to see him go.

  Aiden had looked guilty when he’d come running downstairs, a flush decorating his cheeks as he’d rapidly guided Tristan to the table.

  In an attempt to rid himself of his thoughts, Tristan reached for the Easter egg Aiden had placed on the table. He had glanced at it several times, and he wondered what it was that made Aiden look as if the egg was about to jump him.

  “What’s—”

  “No!”

  Tristan froze with the egg in his hand.

  “I mean…erm…I bought you fudge, lots of fudge, and put it in the egg…but I ate it all.” The flush once again spread over Aiden’s face, but this time it made Tristan smile.

  “You ate my fudge?” He opened the egg and, like Aiden said, it was empty.

  “I was a little nervous, and before I knew it, there were only a couple of pieces left, and I couldn’t give you an almost empty egg, so I ate the last ones, too.” He drew in some air. “And then I…I…”

  “But why did you leave it on the table?”

  Aiden’s hands shook as he plucked the empty egg from Tristan’s grip. “I want to show you something.”

  “Show me something?” Tristan tried not to frown, but Aiden was acting damn strange.

  “Don’t take it the…Oh God, I don’t know how to explain…Will you fuck me?”

  Tristan blinked, not that Aiden hadn’t asked him to fuck him before, but when he did, they were usually halfway there already. Sitting by the kitchen table looking nervous wasn’t the best foreplay Tristan had experienced. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing! Nothing is going on. I just…I wanted to give you something special for our first Easter together.” Aiden fidgeted with the light-green napkin he’d folded into a rabbit.

  Slowly Tristan nodded, not taking his eyes off Aiden. “It’s already special, and you don’t have to do anything to make it more so.”

  Aiden stood, still not meeting Tristan’s eyes, but then he grabbed his hand and pulled. Tristan got to his feet and gathered Aiden in his arms. Talking had never been his strong suit, so instead, he reached for Aiden’s chin and tilted his head to get a good look at his eyes. The green in them darkened as Tristan ran his thumb over the faint stubble on Aiden’s chin, up to his lower lip. The shuddering breath that escaped him made Tristan smile. There wouldn’t be any breaking up today, not judging by the heat in Aiden’s eyes.

  The tip of Aiden’s tongue came out to meet the pad of Tristan’s thumb as he trailed the contour of that plump lip. The mischievous glint in Aiden’s eyes suggested he was about to say something, but before he got the chance, Tristan once more gripped his chin and held him in place as he captured his mouth.

  He swallowed Aiden’s moan and swept his tongue over his lips before entering his mouth. Aiden tasted of the sweet yet tart cheesecake they’d had for dessert, and fruity wine. Tristan wasn’t necessarily into sweet things, not if it wasn’t fudge, but on Aiden he couldn’t get enough of them.

  Aiden clung to him, tongues tangling, desperation building. “Not here. Come, let’s go upstairs.”

  “What are you up to?” Tristan chuckled breathlessly as blood continued to rush to his groin. The pleasant tightness increased as Aiden tugged at his hand and strutted before him towards the stairs. He trailed the curve of Aiden’s back with his eyes, down to his arse, noticing the way the denim hugged those perfectly rounded globes.

  “New jeans?”

  “Yeah, you like?” Aiden shimmied his hips, making Tristan’s mouth go dry.

  “Very much.”

  “Good, I got you something other than fudge.”

  Tristan reluctantly stopped staring at the perfectly shaped backside and met Aiden’s eyes as he glanced back over his shoulder. The wicked glint, the light blush, and the way he bit his lip told Tristan the gift excited him. A toy? Was that why they were on their way to the bedroom? It could explain why he’d come hurtling down from there when Tristan came home, maybe.

  “It didn’t fit in the egg?”

  “Erm…No, it fit in the egg.”

  Something small, then. Maybe a butt plug? Tristan sucked in a breath. He wanted to rip Aiden’s jeans off, trail the crease between his buttocks until his fingers brushed upon the handle. Tristan could imagine what it would look like, snug inside Aiden, a gleaming jewel on the end. He knew it would have one, because Aiden had shown him on a website exactly which one he wanted: a steel plug with a pink gem on the handle. Tristan wanted to trace his tongue over Aiden’s skin stretched around the smooth metal.

  He hoped it was a butt plug. It would explain why Aiden had had trouble sitting still during dinner.

  His jeans grew tighter. Tristan needed out of his clothes before he started to chafe. He let out a trembling sigh and urged Aiden on up the stairs, unable to keep his hands off him. As they took the last step, he started pulling at Aiden’s shirt. “Off, take it off.”

  Aiden giggled but held Tristan’s hands. “Stop.”

  “Stop?” Stop? Why stop? Why not yes?

  Aiden lightly pushed him towards the bed, and Tristan sat down. Tension and arousal swirled around in his belly. Aiden opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he shook his head, making his soft curls sway. Tristan wanted to grab them, grab him,
but instead he sat back and watched as Aiden slowly opened the top button on his shirt. His fingers trembled, and Tristan forced himself not to reach out.

  The afternoon sun spilled in through the small window by the side of the bed, shining like a spotlight on Aiden, as he unfastened one button after another. The shirt fell open, and the rays caressed his almost hairless chest. Tristan swallowed. He wanted to touch, wanted to feel the soft skin under his rough fingers. He loved the contrast. Aiden was soft and smooth; Tristan wasn’t.

  As Aiden let the shirt fall to the floor, Tristan raised his hand to grab Aiden’s wrist.

  “No.” Aiden drew in a shuddering breath.

  “Let me undress you, darling.” Tristan’s raspy voice was no more than a whisper, but he didn’t care.

  Aiden’s hands fell to his sides, and this time he didn’t stop Tristan when he encircled his wrist with his fingers.

  Tristan could barely refrain from tearing the jeans open and roughly pulling them down before he threw Aiden on the bed. He wanted him on all fours, presenting the sparkling gem hidden from his vision as the gift it was. Aiden stepped between his thighs and ran his fingers through Tristan’s hair, forcing him to slow down.

  Tristan trailed his lips over Aiden’s naked skin in feather-light movements. As goose pimples erupted, he bent forward to kiss his belly button, tracing the waistband of his jeans with his fingertips. Soft and warm, he couldn’t get enough of Aiden’s skin—couldn’t get enough of Aiden’s anything. But he took his time, teasing and tantalising Aiden until he was panting.

  With the tip of his tongue circling Aiden’s belly button, Tristan let a finger slip beneath the fabric…and froze.

  That didn’t feel like the skimpy briefs Aiden usually wore. Something was sewn onto the front, a tiny little…

  Tristan swallowed, his heart racing as he opened the fly and looked down at the tiny red bow stitched to delicate, flowery lace.

  Aiden didn’t move, and neither did Tristan, at least not for a few seconds. When he did, it was to bend down and run his tongue over the flimsy fabric before taking the bow between his teeth.