“I want to know what it’s like,” he pants.
“What what’s like?” I growl, yanking open his jeans and shoving him backward onto the bed.
“What it’s like to have you completely.”
“Tell me exactly what you want, boy,” I rumble, tearing off my clothes and tugging his jeans from him.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Those magic fucking words are like music to my ears. I flash him a wicked smile.
Pulling open the bedside drawer, I take out a bottle of lube. “You’re a good boy, but I’m going to fuck you like you’re a bad one.”
His breathing elevates, and his cock strains, creamy liquid coating the tip. I lather up my cock with lube, giving the length a couple long, firm strokes. Snagging Xavi’s ankle, I lift his leg over my shoulder and lean in to ravish his mouth with mine, taking my time dueling with his tongue. His hands explore the planes of my body as I fist his cock, moving to his balls and then stroking a finger down the crease of his ass. I test his hole with a prod, and he accepts me greedily. I stretch him, preparing the muscles for my hard, fat cock. Sitting back, I take his ankles into my hands and spread his legs.
“Stroke that pretty dick for me,” I tell him.
Long fingers curl around his girth, massaging. I line my cock up with his asshole and tip my hips forward, breaching the rings of muscle there.
“Fuck, fuck,” he hisses.
“It’s just pressure. Relax and let me in, boy,” I command. “Let me fucking love you.”
Licking his lips, his head bobs manically as his hand furiously fists his dick. He likes the pain with pleasure. I piston my hips, pushing my cock in farther.
“More,” he begs.
Releasing his ankles, I collapse over him, catching my fall with my arms and resting them each side of his head. I look into his glazed brown eyes as I sink all the way into him. Our mutual moans fill the room.
A frenzy takes us over, lips crashing, hands pulling and groping. I punish him with hard, manic thrusts, my balls slapping against his ass cheeks as my dick burrows inside him. We fuck, we dance, we sing, we make love. Sweat creates a mist over our skin, allowing me to glide over him.
“Turn over,” I growl into his ear, slipping my cock out of him, mourning the loss of his warmth around me.
Obeying, he flips over onto his stomach, lifting his ass.
I kiss down his back, lapping up the scent of his sweat and nibbling his ass cheeks, leaving my mark. My tongue teases the crack and swirls his asshole before I straighten, line my cock back up with his hole, and thrust forward.
Grabbing his hips, I pound into him, my release beckoning. He’s so tight, the muscles of his anus caress my cock with each plunge. Curling my hand around his waist, I grip his hand that’s stroking his cock, and I help pump him until we both cry out our release.
We collapse on the bed, panting as we come down.
“That was worth the wait, boy.” I grin, dragging him over my chest and dropping a kiss to head.
“Sure was, perv.”
Three weeks later…
Sitting across from Joshua at his club, Hush, I eyeball the scratches around his neck and the cut on his lip. “You need to tell me something?”
A sly grin tugs up the side of his face. “I don’t fuck and tell, you know that.”
It’s not like him to enjoy the rough edge games, but hey, who am I to judge?
“You decided what you’re going to do about Ronan’s offer?” he asks, checking his phone.
Sighing, I swirl the drink in my bottle and tap my fingers on the table. “He made an offer that’s hard to refuse. I mean, going with my boy for the three months he’s touring is the cherry on the creamy fucking frosting.” I wink.
“He finally found your price?” He chuckles, drinking his whiskey.
“My work can be mentally draining. It might do me good to step away for a while. I can always go back.”
“So, fulltime bodyguard for the band while they tour next year,” he says with a whistle. “You’ve had worse jobs.”
Jabbing him in the arm, I check my watch and throw some cash on the table before getting to my feet. He always argues when I try to pay for drinks at his club, but I always win that battle. I wave him goodbye and head down the corridor to the private room I’ve booked for the night. I rap my knuckles on the wood and wait. The door clicks open, and there he fucking is, right on time.
Xavi Jacobs, lead singer of Berlin Scandal, and my fucking boy.
“Hey, perv,” Xavi rumbles.
“That’s going to cost you, boy.”
His eyes dart to the wall lined with paddles, whips, and crops. “A spanking?”