He drags me flush against him and kisses me. We stumble across the living room and into my bedroom, shedding clothes as we go.
The thought of having him trust me enough to let me hold him, jack him off, fuck him and make him come is burning like a supernova in my mind. Is it because he says he can’t get hard with other men? That he can’t come with them? No idea.
Everything else just fades. There’s only him and me. When his naked body slides against mine, I almost shoot my load on the spot.
“Come here,” I whisper and drag him up, his weight settling on top of me, his muscular thighs encasing my hips, his hard-on rubbing on my super excited dick.
Oh yeah. That taut body shifting on top of me, strong arms trembling slightly as he bends over me, pressing our hard-ons together, our chests, his piercings a counterbeat of discomfort in the deafening hum of pleasure. His mouth whispers over the scruff of my jaw, his silver earrings scraping, cold, against my skin when he trails his hot mouth down my neck.
He shifts, his cock thickening, and he moans against my skin. The colorful ink on his arms blurs in my eyes as he rocks his hips, humping me, and I wonder what it would feel like if he fucked me instead? In my limited experience, I’ve always been the one on top, but with Jason… Yeah, with him, anything is in the cards.
His hips roll once more, and this time I’m the one moaning, raising my hips to feel him better. “Damn, you’re killing me.”
He does a slight push up, his biceps and pecs shifting and tightening, only to slide his cock more firmly against mine. He smirks faintly, runs his tongue over those sharp teeth, and my dick jerks. I’d give everything I own for that wicked smile.
For him.
“What do you want?” I ask even as the need to bury myself as deep inside him as possible is burning me from the inside out. “In your dreams…” Because it seems that’s the only place where he can let go. “What does your lover do to you in your dreams?”
“You,” he whispers, and I frown, uncomprehending. “In my dreams, it’s always you.”
Fuck. I drag him back down for a long, hard kiss that has us both panting. “And what do I do to you?”
“You kiss me, fuck me, hold me. Overpower me. It feels…” He swallows thickly. “Safe.”
I was gonna have him ride me, but it sounds like he needs something different right now, and God help me, I’ll give it to him. Plenty of time for exploring more positions later. When he’s realized he’ll always be safe here with me.
So I wrap my arms around him, twist and flip him over. Hey, looks like my self-defense sessions at the gym with the Inked Brotherhood and Damage Boyz have paid off.
This time, despite the surprised oof leaving his lungs as he lands on his back, he doesn’t kick and punch at me. Eyes wide, pupils dark and dilated, he stares up at me and slides his hands down to my hips.
“So what will you do about it, huh?” Challenging me, his mouth curving into another sexy smirk. More like the Jason I used to know, and yet… not the same. A mixture of his cocky façade and the real him.
“I’ll make your fantasies come true,” I inform him.
And mine, at the same time.
He shifts. I shift, too, dick on dick, bristly thighs tangling together. I lower my head to latch on his shoulder, and he lifts a hand, tugging on my hair.
“Yeah,” he whispers, almost as if he doesn’t realize he’s speaking out loud. That his body is rocking, finding a rhythm.
This sleek, muscled, inked bad boy wants me. He really wants me. He came to me, still snarling and scratching like a wild animal. But he’s here. He came of his own volition. He asked to stay. The way he looks at me tells me much more than words ever could.
I’m not a job anymore, and the way he moves against me, the way he touches me… seeking his own pleasure together with mine, trying new things, rubbing himself on me shamelessly… it’s amazing.
Not that Jason Vega ever had any shame about his body—that I could sense, at least. But this isn’t him letting me take my pleasure. Or even asking me to force his release. No, this is us, moving together.
This feels too good to last, so I lick at the bite I left on his shoulder and sit up a little. I lower a hand between our bodies and find his cock, thick and hot, the head wet with precum, and rub my thumb over the small, weeping slit.
He gasps and arches into my hold, helplessly rocking up. Need and awe flashes through his gaze, and I could take on the whole damn world to make him happy. Dammit, I will if I have to.
But that’s a thought for later.
“What do you want?” I ask, again, because that’s all that matters. He may dream of me in control, but in reality, he’s the one calling the shots.
“Show me.” So much fucking trust in his eyes. “Again.”
How good it can be.