Ren smiled but didn’t look up as he unhooked the button on Hayes’s jeans and dragged down the zipper. “I was hoping you’d take it as an invitation.”
“I wasn’t ready for you.” Hayes planted his hands on Ren’s shoulders. “But I’m RSVPing now. Get on your knees, Muroya.”
Ren stilled at that, his gaze jumping upward.
Hayes pushed. “I said knees.”
Ren lowered down, and for the first time, Hayes saw a flicker of that vulnerability, a snap of nerves, reminding Hayes that this was the first time Ren had submitted or bottomed for a guy since Gordon.
Hayes took a steadying breath. “You have a safe word.”
“I’m well aware.”
Hayes took that for what it was. Ren would use a safe word if he needed it. “Touch me. Show me you know how to handle cock.”
Ren’s expression lit with a hint of that trademark wryness and he dipped his hand in the open fly of Hayes’s jeans. Hayes had skipped underwear today, so there was no barrier when Ren wrapped a hot hand around him and stroked.
Hayes groaned and he tipped his head back. “Goddamn.”
The physical sensation of being stroked by someone other than himself was mind-blowing in its own right, but knowing it was Ren stoked the embers to a blaze. It’d been too long. Too fucking long since someone else’s hands had been on him. So many lonely nights in prison. So many long nights since. There was no helping it, no time for analyzing. He had planned to simply put Ren on his knees for a test, to make sure he was okay with this, not to be selfish. But primal instincts took over. The hand and hot breath on his dick were too much.
“I need your mouth, Ren.” His voice sounded choked to his own ears, a throat knotted with warring factions. His fingers dug into the hard muscle of Ren’s shoulder.
“Yes, sir.” The soft hush of fabric sounded as Ren tugged Hayes’s jeans down and off. Not hurried. Not frantic. Methodical. Tortuous. Hayes’s stomach dipped in anticipation. But nothing topped the soft sound of pleasure from Ren when he dragged his fingers through the trail of hair that led down Hayes’s abdomen and then took Hayes’s cock in his hands. That under-the-breath curse. A simple whispered word that meant everything. That was all Hayes needed to hear. There was no masking that reaction, what it meant. Ren wanted this as much as he did.
This was right.
Ren stroked him with long, confident fingers, slow and sensual, spreading the fluid at the tip over the head and teasing the underside with his thumb, mapping him, learning the terrain. Hayes’s fingertips bit into the flesh of Ren’s shoulder, and he tried not to think of why Ren would be so good at this, about how he’d been trained to please. The soft light of the lamp surrounded them, cocooning this forbidden exchange in a cloak of silence, a dream world, and it allowed his dominant side to shimmer fully to the surface. “I didn’t tell you to play. Give me your mouth.”
Ren continued to tease. To stroke and cup him. A challenge. Make me.
Force me.
It sparked something in Hayes, flint against steel. Acting on nothing but pure gut, he reached out and gripped the back of Ren’s head. He hadn’t fooled around with a guy since college. So this was a different sensation, the short, silky strands against his fingers instead of long locks, but not an unwelcome one.
Ren grunted at the grip but didn’t fight him as Hayes guided him forward. The second Ren’s lips closed over the head of Hayes’s cock and slid down its length, fireworks went off behind Hayes’s eyelids. “Oh, fuck.”
It’d been years. Eons. He’d thought a blow job was a thing a man could never forget, but he had. He’d forgotten the intense bliss of that hot, wet suction, that sensation of every molecule in his body being attuned to one very specific place. He tipped his head back and held on to Ren like a life raft, rocking forward and forcing himself to make it last, to go slow, to not ram his friend right through the wall with the force of his need.
Ren groaned around Hayes’s shaft like he was relishing every single suck, like he could do this forever, and then he shifted forward, taking Hayes to the back of his throat and holding him there.
A chain of filthy words slipped out of Hayes in one uninterrupted rush, and Ren only took him deeper. Both Hayes’s hands clamped around Ren’s head. “Christ, Muroya. You trying to kill me?”
Ren eased back a bit, his tongue dragging along the underside of Hayes’s shaft at a painfully slow pace.
The sudden change made Hayes’s eyes flutter open. He had to see, had to look. He glanced down, finding Ren staring up at him, the warm glow from the lamp lighting half his face. Hard angles and hot desire. It was a bizarre sight, his best friend with his mouth wrapped around his cock. But it was the heavy lust in his eyes, a flavor of which Hayes hadn’t seen before in Ren, that tugged something inside him. They’d shared women. He’d seen Ren in many compromising and intimate moments, but this was different. It wasn’t submissive exactly. There was still that I-dare-you gleam in Ren’s gaze, but there was satisfaction, too. He was getting off on knowing he was responsible for Hayes’s pleasure.
He gripped his hair tighter. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
Ren’s eyes narrowed as he held the gaze and took Hayes deep again, working his throat and blowing Hayes’s mind to bits with every sweep of his tongue. Then he cupped Hayes’s sac in a warm palm and slid a teasing fingertip farther back.
More cursing fell from Hayes’s lips and he gritted his teeth to hold back the orgasm.
Staring at each other was almost too intense. It was like they were at war. Who was going to win? But somehow it made it hotter. More electric. This was a side of Ren he’d never seen. The great dominant on his knees and enjoying it.
He licked his lips. “You like doing this, Muroya? Does sucking my cock make you hard?”
Ren’s gaze lit with wicked satisfaction.