Personal Entanglement (Thorne and Dash 2)

Riley wouldn’t have listened all those months ago when they’d first met, but now they could give and take, wrest control, fight for it, all a game and yet, not…

That was part of what Riley was afraid of. Thorne might let him have control in bed, but now that they were truly a couple living under one roof, would Riley ever have control anywhere else?

“No!” He gripped Thorne’s head.

Thorne gasped, eyes wide with surprise.

“I’m in charge tonight, and I want you to suck my cock and get me ready to fuck you good and hard.”

Thorne smirked at him, surprise gone from his expression. “You’re more than ready, Dash.”

Riley had used that old nickname as his escort name, and Thorne still called him that when he got aggressive in bed. “That’s right. That’s who I am right now, and you’re going to do what I say and like it.”

“That’s really how it has to be?”

“Yes.”

Thorne leaned forward and swiped his tongue over Riley’s cock, not taking him in his mouth yet. Riley needed this, needed to control Thorne. He was scared about the big step they were taking, and so was Thorne. Some power play would make them both feel better.

CHAPTER THREE

Thorne licked and teased Dash’s—yes, Riley was definitely Dash for now—cock as Dash massaged his scalp. Thorne glanced up, and the look on Dash’s face—love, lust, fear—nearly did him in. He wanted to pull Dash into his arms and reassure him, but that wasn’t what Dash wanted, and Thorne’s cock was all for Dash’s games even if Thorne’s head wondered if tenderness was what they both needed.

Thorne took Dash’s cock into his mouth, sucking the head, then taking more. Dash moaned, and Thorne kept going, teasing his balls, his ass, taking him deeper, until he was swallowing him all the way, until Dash stopped holding back and started fucking Thorne’s mouth.

God, Thorne loved being taken like that, but he shoved at Dash’s hips a few seconds later, pushing him away. He didn’t want things to end this way. He wanted—needed—to be fucked.

Dash glared down at him. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“True, but you told me you wanted my ass.”

Dash took a few ragged breaths. “Yeah. Yeah, I do want that. Go!” He tilted his head toward the bedroom.

Thorne stood, slowly, Dash’s eyes never leaving him.

“Come with me.” Thorne held out his hand. Dash hesitated, then took it, clasping him tightly as if needing something to hold on to.

Thorne needed that too. He thought this moving-in-together thing would be easy. They’d practically been living together for weeks. They loved each other. Thorne had no interest in being with anyone else. So why did moving in suddenly feel so monumental?

Because there’s nowhere to escape.

I don’t want to escape Da-— Riley.

At some point you might.

Thorne didn’t want to think about that, so he let go of Dash’s hand and began to strip, slowly, capturing all of Dash’s attention. This still felt like it always had, teasing each other, anticipating a good, hard fuck. Maybe Dash was right; they just needed to enjoy each other’s bodies, and all would be well again.

It was sure as hell easy to tell himself that.

He let his shirt fall to the floor, stripped off his undershirt, and went to work on his suit pants. His cock was thrilled to be released from its well-tailored confines as he slid his pants over his ass, letting Dash see that he’d actually worn some of the ridiculously tight and small briefs Dash had encouraged—a.k.a forced—him to buy; green ones that Dash said were perfect with his eyes. He’d tried to argue that no one would see them, and Dash had just said, “I will,” with a shake of his head.

Dash’s eyes widened. “Fuck, you’re hot in those. Leave them on.”

Thorne raised a brow. “Won’t they impede our progress?”

“Not yet. Step out of your pants and bend over the end of the bed.”

Thorne shook his head. “I’m taking these off. I want to be fucked. Right now.”

Dash grabbed his arm and scowled. “No. That’s not what I want.”

Thorne turned to face the bed, hiding his grin. God, he loved when Riley took on his Dash persona. He was fucking merciless. Thorne didn’t bend over, though; he wasn’t about to make this easy.

Dash laid a hand in the middle of his back and pushed. Thorne caught himself on his hands, and Dash wrenched one of his arms out from under him, making him sink to one elbow.

“Hands at the base of your spine. And keep them there.”

Thorne did as he was told. He was so fucking hard, almost ready to beg.

“Do you want me to tie them?” Dash asked, caressing Thorne’s wrists, the touch so fucking erotic he might as well be jerking Thorne off.

“No.”

“Is that no as in yes, or no as in ‘test my willpower; I’ll do what you say just because I fucking love surrendering to you’?”