Maybe you’ve even been dreaming of getting bossed around a little, huh, Marcus?
Yes.
Yeah, Jamie remembered that. The rough, almost relieved confession. Jamie had been moving slowly with Marcus this week—as slowly as possible while still going at it like animals—but it seemed like Marcus was trying to tell Jamie he wanted more. Was he? Yes, he’d told him earlier that day he was ready to have Jamie inside him. Is that where he wanted this to lead? The possibility made Jamie’s dick swell so hard, he had to grind his molars.
He untied the apron front around Marcus’s neck and tossed it on the ground, remaining a foot away with his arms crossed. “Were you a problem student, Mr. O’Shaughnessy?”
Marcus’s Adam’s apple rifled up and down. “Yes.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Jamie shook his head and let his attention drop to Marcus’s protruding shaft where it fought to get free of his boxers, his own blood firing in response. “You wouldn’t have gotten away with that in my class.”
“No?” Marcus breathed, sounding winded.
“No.” Jamie crooked a finger at Marcus. “Come here. I’ll decide how to deal with your bullshit. It could be too late.”
Marcus moved so fast, the kitchen table he’d been leaning on went skittering back, bumping the wall. His big body expanded and contracted on heavy breaths as he came to a stop in front of Jamie, hands at his sides. “Like this?”
“Hmm.” Jamie circled around the back of Marcus slowly, the only sound in the kitchen his footsteps, Marcus’s rasping breath and the ticking of the clock. “I’m still not sure how to deal with you, Mr. O’Shaughnessy,” Jamie said, once he stood in front of Marcus again. “You’ll need to pull down your shorts and show me the rest.”
His boyfriend made a choked sound, his bulky frame shuddering. It turned Jamie on to a painful degree, watching Marcus move clumsily in his haste to pull down his boxers, letting them fall to his ankles, standing there in the stark light of the kitchen, his cock jutting straight out.
On display.
“Is this the source of our problem, Mr. O’Shaughnessy?” Jamie ran a fingertip up the veiny side of Marcus’s cock and watched as the other man bit off a curse, sweat beginning to form on his upper lip. “Does all this pent up frustration make you act out?”
“Y-yes. Yes. I don’t know.”
Marcus reached for his erection, but Jamie snagged his wrist, squeezing. “Do not touch. Problem students don’t get rewarded.”
“Oh Jesus,” Marcus said on a harsh exhale. “Oh fuck.”
Jamie’s eyebrow ticked up and yeah, maybe he’d never played this kind of game before, but damn, it was like putting on a tailored suit. Because it was Marcus and they were exploring something honest and when they were alone, the world was narrowed down to just the two of them. And the two of them together was everything right.
“I don’t tolerate that kind of foul language,” Jamie said, stepping back and unfastening his pants, his movements slow so he could savor the way Marcus’s eyes eagerly tracked his progress with the button, the zipper. “Since you’ve got such a filthy mouth, I think we ought to find a better use for it. Get down on your knees, Mr. O’Shaughnessy.”
It was the most erotic moment of Jamie’s life, having Marcus fall to his knees, taking Jamie into his mouth and groaning around that first deep suck. Through the layer of lust obscuring his vision, Jamie took in the muscular slope of Marcus’s back, his tight, rounded buttocks and the boxers still in a tangle around his ankles.
“The hungry way you’re sucking me off, I’d say you like being a problem student,” Jamie said choppily, his fingers spearing into Marcus’s hair, hips rocking forward. “Maybe you’ve wanted to be my personal problem student, is that right?”
Marcus moaned loudly, his cheeks hollowing as he pulled, pulled and let Jamie go with a smacking pop. “Yes. Please.” He licked a circle around Jamie’s tip. “I only want to be yours.”
Jamie’s fingers tightened around Marcus’s strands. “A few minutes on your knees and you’re already giving correct answers. Maybe we’ve found the only test you excel at.” He pushed deep and held, groaning over the purposeful flex of Marcus’s throat muscles. Jesus Christ. He’d been reading the internet again. “It’s a good thing you only want to be mine, Mr. O’Shaughnessy, because I’m already growing very attached to this mouth.”
“You can keep it. Please keep it,” Marcus breathed, looking up at Jamie with heavy eyelids, both of his hands twisting around the meat of Jamie’s cock, jerking him off in a firm grip. God, he was beautiful. And male. Strength and weakness in one perfect package.
“That’s very generous of you,” Jamie managed around the lump in his throat. “What else are you offering me?”
“Me,” Marcus said, no hesitation. “All of me.”