That had to be what made me admire Jack the most. He was a brilliant guy with heaps of potential. Not to mention patience in spades.
He was easy on the eyes too, especially when he was making out with my boy. I still had the memory of Jack and Tate in the shower at Macklin’s place playing on a loop in my mind.
Tate and I had officially green-lit Jack for future playtime, and so far, so good. I was itching for more. I wanted to see what the four of us could do together, whether Franklin and I watched Jack top Tate, hopefully after a power struggle, or we all pushed Franklin through the mud together. The possibilities were endless.
Checking the rearview, making sure traffic was still nonexistent, I unzipped my utility pants and told Tate, “Gimme that mouth, pet.”
“Of course, Master.” His quick response warmed my heart, and he stowed away his phone and adjusted his seat belt before leaning over to kiss my cheek. “I’ll take any chance I get to worship my Owner’s perfect cock.”
I exhaled and let the possessiveness and affection wash over me.
He didn’t waste a moment. He pulled out my semi-hard cock from my boxer briefs and sucked me into his mouth, immediately swirling his warm, wet tongue around me.
“Such a good boy for me.” I combed my fingers through his hair and switched to the right lane.
He got me hard in seconds, showing me how much he loved to please me. How much he loved to suck my cock. Something that’d changed since we’d gotten back together. I noticed new things all the time. I’d never had any complaints about his servitude; the fucking opposite. I’d thought he’d been perfect. And yet, since we decided to try again, every good emotion had intensified. His submission had never felt so heartfelt. So deep. All because we had commitment now. His wrists bore my collar, which only I had the key to. We owned each other. One day soon, I’d give him my name.
My breathing picked up as he redoubled his efforts and moaned around me.
With a fistful of his hair, I started moving him faster over my cock.
“Take it all,” I muttered, tensing up. “Tighten those cock-sucking lips for all you’re worth.”
He whimpered and sucked me harder.
I groaned at the rapid buildup of euphoria. It rolled in in hot waves and threatened my composure.
White-knuckling the wheel with one hand, I tried to regulate my breathing as the orgasm rushed closer and closer. I flushed with heat, I shuddered, and I let myself drown in the explosion of pleasure. Right before I started coming, I managed to warn him, and then I sucked in a breath and surrendered.
Tate hummed and swallowed repeatedly, with each shot of come I released into his mouth.
Fucking hell.
Part of me was suddenly ready to Energizer bunny my way through the day…while the other part wanted to take a nap.
“Christ,” I exhaled. “Thank you, baby.”
“Mmm, my pleasure, Owner.” He sucked and licked me clean before tucking me back into my boxer briefs and zipping up my utility pants. “When we get to the house, I’ll fix you a big breakfast. You’re going to need it with all the heavy lifting you’ll be doing today.”
I shivered and squeezed his thigh. “I love how you spoil me.”
He grinned cheekily and kissed my jaw. “I love spoiling you.”
The kitchen was coming along great. While Shay, Penelope, and Lucian braved the cold out front to spray-paint the new cabinet doors, I installed spotlights underneath the cupboards and in the ceiling.
The power was back on, which felt nice.
Tate hummed a pop song as he painted the walls a deep, muted shade of green, and I had to admit we were getting one hell of an upgrade. It wasn’t until now, when we had all this new shit, that I was realizing how run-down the old had been.
Brand-new fridge and freezer, donated by someone in the bondage community. Nathan had delivered them early this morning. A big kitchen table—which we hadn’t had before—that Greer and Sloan had built themselves. It was waiting on the front porch, along with eight new chairs.
Tate and Ivy had raided several sales, thrift stores, and flea markets for final touches, like drapes, picture frames, utensils, dishes, and two coffeemakers. We hadn’t lost a whole lot in the fire—in the kitchen, anyway—except for every coffee drinker’s wet dream, the coffee machine. Plus, the shelves with all the glasses and plates had collapsed.
“Okay, I’m all done here,” I said. “I’ll go tell Reese they can start with the floor in… How long do you think you need?”
“I’m almost done too—five more minutes.”
Five minutes. I raised a brow and watched his T-shirt hike up as he reached to drag the paint roller as high up as was necessary, and I figured I could grant myself those five minutes to enjoy the view.