My cock jumped. I stared down at it, then back up at Jackson. “Ya think?”
He laughed and pulled off his own clothes. Removing his shirt showed off every glorious bulge of arm, chest, and abdominal muscle. Bending over to take off his shorts did terrible things to that thirsty bastard who lived in the back of my mind. “How about this? This help?”
I groaned. “No. It does not help. You realize you are hotter than the surface of the sun, right? That’s five-thousand, seven-hundred, seventy-eight Kelvin, and you are at least five-thousand, seven-hundred, seventy-nine Kelvin. Really hot.”
“You can be such a nerd. It’s fucking adorable.” He squirted a handful of lotion into his palm to warm it. “Didn’t know history teachers could sub in for science teachers and quote the temperature of the sun offhand.”
“History wasn’t my only subject. I studied a little science in there, too.” Now was the perfect time to tell him more. The ideal segue into my long and contorted career at college.
Except that story led to other stories. Stories I’d told Joan, and hadn’t realized would plant seeds that would grow into a broken heart for me. Nothing good had ever come out of those stories, or the time of my life that had spawned them.
We all have our demons. I had my reasons for forgiving Jackson’s barbs of distrust so easily. Certainty in each other would come, and with it would come the hidden truths that buried in us both like thorns.
“Apparently.” He nodded toward the bed, and I laid down, adjusting the damned flagpole that stuck up from my groin. “As it happens, Mister Sadler, I give a mean massage. You like massages?”
“As it happens, Mister Sadler, I do,” I returned.
“You let me know right off if I’m pressing too hard, or I hurt something.” Then his hands were on me, and he could have folded me into a pretzel if he wanted to. I wouldn’t have cared, as long as he promised not to stop touching me.
Jackson’s hands were strong as vices. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was whenever he displayed how much power his gorgeous form held. I’m not a weak man. My time at the gym is well-spent. Jackson could out-power me without a drop of sweat spent. He was the kind of man who could crush a beer can into a small puck, and cradle a baby bird without bending a twiggy feather on its head.
A deep groan crawled out of me as he kneaded my shoulders and worked his way down my spine. “I have died and gone to Heaven,” I moaned into the pillow.
“Too hard?” he asked.
“Just right,” I said. I didn’t have to try to relax. Jackson’s powerful grip told my muscles theywouldrelax, and the kneading would not stop until they submitted.
They tried to resist. I have almost thirty-three years of tension built up back there, plus the utter fuckery my injury has made of my back, hips, and legs. One by one, the knots in my muscles succumbed to Jackson’s gentle but insistent demands to relent.
All but one muscle turned to gelatin. That one lay squashed against the sheet beneath me, alert to the fact that Jackson’s skin touched mine. That his ass sat on my ass, and his muscled thighs and calves clenched on mine every time he leaned into the massage. I will say it again: Jackson Sadler was driving me insane, and I loved it.
The arousal situation did not improve as he worked his way down my back. His cock, as hard as mine, I noted, slid down between the cheeks of my ass as he repositioned himself lower for a better grip. He would lean forward to press his palms into a muscle, and his shaft would slide forward, almost slipping between my cheeks but not quite. I had to fight my urge to shift backward, hips arched and ready, to press him deeper.
“Mm, you like that, do you?” Jackson rumbled. I felt him reposition himself so his cock laid along the groove between my ass cheeks. Strong legs gripped at my hips as he rocked himself forward, slipping his shaft over my skin once. Then twice. Then his hips angled, and his cock slid into my cheeks to brush against the sensitive hole hidden between them.
My throat produced a noise caught between a moan and a gasp as his hard flesh rubbed against that sensitive, forbidden place. Logically, I have always known that people slipped cock into ass for great pleasure. I’ve wanted to do it myself. Yet feeling his cock slide against my ass with intent sent a jolt of the taboo through me, with all the surprise and the first flush of the forbidden. Part of me wanted to apologize, like I might if I brushed a woman’s breast on accident as I stepped into an elevator.Very sorry, my ass is by your cock and you nearly fucked it. I apologize wholeheartedly.
Neither of us was sorry. After that initial slap of shock and unnecessary shyness, the electric pleasure flowed in. This was not an accidental touch. I did not have to apologize. I could want it –didwant it, and badly – and more than that? He did itagain. Harder, letting me feel the entire length of his shaft slip first along the crack of my ass, then between my legs. The head of his cock nudged up against the underside of my balls, and that felt forbidden, too, in the best of ways.
I whimpered. Goosebumps had broken across my skin, which felt very alive. Weight and warmth covered my back as he lay down over me, his belly on my back, and hooked his hands beneath my shoulders. Breath gusted over my ear. “You’d love it if I fucked you right here, wouldn’t you. Reached down, let the slick stuff my cock is leaking paint your asshole, and pushed inside. You’d take my cock, wouldn’t you, Bastian, and you’d love it.”
“Yes,” I gasped. Despite my best efforts, my hips rocked back towards him, begging for another stroke of his shaft against my ass. Pleading to feel more of him, be taken by him. “Jackson, please, yes. I want you.”
“I know you do, babe. Fuck, I don’t know how I could ever doubt it.” His hands tightened on my shoulders, pulled me down as he pulled himself up to rock our bodies together. His cock, now slick with the lotion he’d used for my massage, I realized, slid against my ass and down to nudge my balls again.
I leaned my head back to feel it against his shoulder, and turned my head in hopes of a kiss. He gave it to me, heated and famished and full of desire. His weight restrained and embraced me, left me a plaything for his appetites. And I wanted it. Wanted him to use me, take me and tell me how to give him everything he wanted until I was full of him.
One hand left my shoulders. I felt it slide under my hips until it found my cock. When he touched my shaft, I jumped, whimpered again, then rolled my hips as his fingers closed around me. It was the first time he had touched my cock, and I almost came in his hand right there. Only gritted teeth and iron control prevented that bit of humiliation.
He had noticed. A low chuckle sounded in my ear. “You’re a hungry thing, aren’t you. Tonight, I’m gonna give you a little more. You’re gonna lay underneath me. You’re gonna struggle there, while I rub my cock against you, until you come in my hand. And I’m gonna come right where I am now. Against your ass. You like that?”
In answer, I pushed my hips back to slide him against me, then forward to stroke myself through his hand. The intoxication of pleasure had overwhelmed me, and I would have done whatever he asked for more of his touch. “Yes. God, yes, Jackson, please.”
Another low chuckle. Even constrained by my body and the bed beneath me, he still managed to stroke my cock with his lotion-slicked hand. More than that, he gave me a lotion-slick tunnel to pump myself into, and the motion of my hips stroked his cock along my ass and between my legs.
Not that I needed to. Groaning, breathing hard, Jackson took up a torturously slow rhythm with his hips, fucking the crack of my ass, the channel created by my legs pressed together, everything except were I wanted him most. He bit at the back of my neck, a wolf in the rut, and slid his hand back firmly until it rested against my body so the skin of my cock stretched taut.
I gave an open-mouthed cry of pleasure. My nerves lit up with a lightning storm of sensation. He’d made a desperate man of me, one who would writhe beneath his lover and fuck his lover’s hand for whatever touch he could coax out. Each time his cock touched my ass, I arched back, and I no longer cared for dignity. I didn’t care if I cried out, rough and ragged and shameless, whenever I felt the head of his cock nudge the hole it found there.