Not expecting him to answer—he never does—I reach between us, grab my condom-covered cock and push back into him.
His earrings glint when he shakes his head from side to side, baring his teeth, but he spreads his legs and lets me in. He groans and twists as he takes my cock, his hands sliding up my shoulders to loop behind my head, his back bowing.
His dick jumps between us, soaked in precum, the metal of his piercing warm against my skin.
“That’s right,” I grunt as he trembles, so fucking tight, so fucking hot around my cock, “this is it.”
His mouth is impossible to resist. I press our lips together, but he pulls back, mouth open, panting. His eyes close, dark lashes throwing shadows on his cheekbones. He rocks, those lean hips rising and falling as he rides me, and I remember the first time I fucked him, on the armchair, just like this.
And yet nothing like this at all. He’d been turned away from me, then, and I couldn’t see his face.
I can now.
Expressions play over his face as he moves—surprise, tension, pleasure. His brows dip over his eyes, a flush spreads on his cheeks, and his hands tighten at my nape as he rocks faster. His cock slides against my stomach, diamond-hard, leaving trails of moisture.
This time he’s feeling it all, the tension, the pleasure, the heat. His skin’s warm, his dick twitching.
“You feel me?” I breathe, and grip his hips to slow him down. ?
?Feel this?”
“Goddammit,” he hisses, blunt fingernails digging into my back. “I feel you.”
“In here.” I inch a hand between us and tap on a firm pec, on top of his heart. “Feel it?”
His head dips forward, and he shudders. “Yeah.”
That quiet admission lights up my blood. I drop my hand to his hard-on and give it a squeeze that has him moaning loudly. I flick my thumb over the wetness of his cockhead and use the moisture to slide my fist down to the base, then back up, stroking him in time to my thrusts.
He’s rocking again, his ass massaging my cock, his breath hissing between his teeth. He’s lost in the rhythm of it, and that’s so fucking awesome, and so hot to see, but I want him in the moment, in the here and now.
With me.
His dick is soaked, so hard it has to hurt, and his eyes are scrunched shut as he fucks himself on my cock. He’s about to come, I feel it in the taut tension in every line of his body, and I’m about to fall with him.
“Jase, look at me.”
“Don’t stop,” he whispers. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t. Open your eyes.”
He blinks slowly, his lashes wet. His eyes are pitch black, the pupils dilated with desire. He meets my gaze and a jolt goes through him.
He comes with a cry, spilling over my hand, spraying our chests. I capture his gasps with my mouth as my cock jerks and I lose control, thrusting hard into him and holding, pumping my hips once, twice, and again.
Black spots dance in my eyes as I give his mouth one last lick and release his lips so we can both catch our breath.
He falls against me, boneless, and I gather him up in my arms, dropping a kiss on top of his head. “Okay?”
He whispers something I don’t catch.
I stroke his hair. “What was that?”
“This is better,” he whispers, this time the words crystal clear. “than any of my dreams of you.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Jason