Andre’s smile was wry, but his pupils had dilated from the spark of pain. “Got a problem with that?”
“No. Kind of makes me want to tie you up and see if you can take it as well as you give it.” The words tumbled out before Jace had a chance to consider them. And the surprise on Andre’s face mirrored the astonishment Jace felt at his own statement. But as he looked at Andre—the quickened breath, the smooth hard muscle, the erection pushing at the fly of his jeans—Jace realized the thought of dominating and fucking Andre no longer felt bizarre at all. It felt . . . enticing and edgy in the best possible way. And he felt honest disappointment that he couldn’t indulge in all of that completely tonight.
He pinned Andre with a stare. “On your knees.”
Andre went to the floor immediately and in perfect form—not one leg at a time but instead he rocked down straight from a stand to a kneel. Someone had trained him well. Jace grabbed Andre’s hair, tilting his face toward him. “It’s not safe for me to beat you tonight. I’m not drunk, but I’m not totally straight either.”
Andre burst out laughing. “You’re definitely right on that last part.”
Jace pushed his tongue into the side of his mouth, fighting not to join in the laughter. “Be careful, smartass, or I may change my mind.”
Andre pressed his lips together, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Sorry, I appreciate your concern for my welfare, s— Wait, what should I call you?”
Because sir was hers. They both knew it. Jace doubted either of them would ever be able to have another sub use that term again.
“Call me J.” Jace stepped back and crossed his arms. “Unzip your pants and show me how bad you’re aching to please me.”
Andre smoothly unbuttoned his pants and opened his fly, then took his thick cock in his hand. The tip was already shiny with desire. Jace walked over to his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of lube. He tossed it to Andre, who caught it with ease in his free hand.
Jace nodded at the bottle. “You have permission to stroke yourself, but you don’t get off until I do. Got it?”
“Got it, J.” Andre uncapped the bottle and spread the slippery liquid over his cock with a slow, methodical stroke—one that had Jace’s own dick begging for attention.
He made his way back to stand in front of Andre, openly watching Andre’s tanned fingers slide up and down his erection. Andre kept his focus on Jace—like the thing that was giving him the most pleasure was Jace and not his own hand. Fuck, that was hot. He shoved his jeans and boxers down. “You good at sucking cock, Andre?”
“I haven’t heard any complaints.”
“Prove it.”
Andre continued to work himself with that slow, steady stroke, but he opened his mouth and took the head of Jace’s cock onto his tongue and closed his lips around it. Jace groaned as the hot hollow of Andre’s mouth sucked the head in and then slid down the shaft, enveloping Jace in the decadent, wet heat.
Andre moved back and forth, pressing the flat of his tongue along the base and increasing the suction. Holy shit. Andre hadn’t been lying. The world spun a bit. Jace put a hand on the top of Andre’s head to keep himself from swaying. “Get undressed and let’s finish this on the bed. I don’t want whiskey and that mouth of yours knocking me on my ass.”
Andre shucked his pants and boxers, and Jace reclined onto the bed. Without further instruction, Andre climbed in between Jace’s spread knees and got back to pleasuring him. Jace’s head sank back on the pillows and he gave himself over to the moment. The guy he drank beer and watched football games with was giving him head. And it felt good. And right.
The only damn thing missing was the woman they both loved joining in the fun.
Andre’s lubricated hand cupped Jace’s balls and squeezed with gentle pressure, yanking Jace from the morose thought. Jace’s erection swelled. “Fuck, Dre. That’s good.”
Andre lifted his head. “Can I touch you?”
Jace knew what he was asking. And hell if Jace’s whole body didn’t tighten with anticipation. “I didn’t tell you that you couldn’t.”
Andre’s mouth closed around him again, but those slick fingers cupping his balls moved down further with confident precision, finding his perineum and rubbing. Electric darts of fuck yeah blasted through Jace. He arched, nearly lifting off the bed.
Andre’s rhythm didn’t falter, but no doubt encouraged by Jace’s reaction, a lubed finger teased at Jace’s back opening. Jace instinctively tensed, but then reminded himself of the instructions he gave subs and forced himself to relax. The domme he’d done his sub training under had used a plug on him and he’d enjoyed it, but it’d been a long time. And there was something about crossing this line that had Jace’s heart hammering. Jace sucked in a sharp breath and Andre pushed past the resistance, increasing his pace with his mouth as a finger eased inside Jace.
Jace groaned, his balls drawing up, an orgasm fighting to break free. Fuck. He prided himself on being able to last a long time, but there was no way he was going to be able to deny his pounding urge much longer.
Another slippery finger joined the first and Andre stroked along the sensitive spot inside. Jace gripped the sheets, willing himself to hold on for another minute—the sensations ratcheting up his spine and down his legs were too good to cut short. “Damn, you’re good at this.”
As if he wanted to put an exclamation point on the end of that sentence, Andre took Jace to the back of his throat. All semblance of control flew from Jace’s psyche as sharp pleasure, quick and brain-numbingly wicked, went through his system. His fists balled and a choked moan tore out of him as he came, the hot fluid of his orgasm pulsing out of him in blessed release.
Andre swallowed without a flinch and eased his fingers out of him, leaving Jace sweating and panting. Andre moved off his knees and to the other side of the bed.
“Where are you going?” Jace asked.
“To get a towel to clean the lube off you.”