On Your Knees, Prospect (Kings of Hell MC 3)

Jake slammed his sponge into the concrete floor and crossed the few steps between them to shove at Vars’s back. “I won’t be correcting your job for you to get all the rewards you haven’t earned!”

Vars spun around and pushed him back with his meaty arms, nose wrinkled with fury. “All the rewards? You can have all the fucking rewards you want. I’m here to get my patch, not be a fucking slave.”

Jake wouldn’t be subjected to this indignity. He hit right back at Vars, even if the man was solid as a rock. “I’m no slave! I do what I’m asked, and yes, if that means sucking dick, so be it. It’s called dedication. I bet you’ve never heard of it!”

Something flashed in Vars’s eyes, and he descended on Jake, twisting back his arms and pushing him forward as if Jake barely weighed anything. With a yelp, Jake clenched his eyes shut, unable to breathe as he braced himself for impact with the floor, but his body met hard steel instead. Dampness started soaking into his clothes, and his chin slid over Knight’s newly-cleaned car. It smelled of detergent, sharp and unpleasant, but the large body pressing him down overpowered all his senses.

He struggled against the firm hold but knew he could put more strength into it. His mind drifted off to the leather flogger and cuffs that have occupied it from the moment Jake had made the mistake of touching Vars’s toy bag.

The cool touch of the car’s hood was a relief to his burning cheek. It was increasingly difficult to remind himself every day that Vars was a prospect like him when the man carried himself with so much authority.

“You sure of that?” Vars whispered, leaning over Jake until his lips were inches away from Jake’s ear. The movement pressed his hips tighter to Jake’s ass, and even though there was no trace of arousal in those leather pants, sensing the heat of Vars’s groin had Jake’s flesh feel like molten fire.

Only earlier this morning Jake had seen Vars’s dick for the first time, but that was without the context of sex, when he’d been in pain and most definitely not in the mood. Still, he remembered how thick it was, its head hidden away under the hood of foreskin, resting over a pair of balls so big they could choke him if he tried sucking on them. Were Vars’s pubes salt-and-pepper as well, or had that been his imagination?

“Of what?” Jake’s voice came out trembling so heavily he didn’t recognize it at first. What was he doing? He couldn’t possibly give into this weird thing Vars was pulling him into. Vars had no right to him. No patch. And yet everything about the energy Vars exuded spoke to Jake on a level he didn’t understand.

So he stayed put and stopped the pretense of struggle.

Vars breathed fire down the back of Jake’s neck, and while his body still pressed down hard, and his powerful hands still kept Jake’s arms in a twist, something about the hold changed. Vars hesitated with his answer, his hips swaying gently against Jake’s buttocks as he inhaled and exhaled so close to Jake’s ear it was almost like shouting.

“That you want to serve. That polishing all those shoes on your knees gets your dick hard.”

Yes? No? Maybe? No. Yes.

So he might actually enjoy doing things for the members. Big deal. It was a lucky thing, since he’d been stuck as a prospect for years.

Jake couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. Why his body reacted so violently to this inquisition. Vars’s bulk pressing against him wasn’t helping with focus, but it was the hold on his arms that was making Jake’s senses spiral out of control. He’d gotten a glimmer of that when wrestling with Gray before, but there was something different about Vars holding him down. He just didn’t know what.

“I just want to please,” Jake whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d be heard.

Vars groaned, and his upper body slowly lifted while their hips remained pressed tightly together. “Is that so?”

Jake whimpered, half-brainless already. It had been so fucking long since he’d had a dick in him, since he pleased a man with his body. He’d thought no one else but patches would do, so why wasn’t he pulling away or slamming an elbow into Vars’s ribs?

Finding the strength in him to deny Vars was becoming impossible. The urge to show this older guy just how pliant he could be overfilled his brain and spilled down to his dick already. It had to be the age thing that made Jake so confused despite Vars being a lowly prospect like him.

Only there was nothing lowly about Vars. He was strong, big, and had twice the experience Jake could have gained in his short life so far. His hands were so steady that Jake didn’t dare move even when Vars let go of Jake’s arms.