Chapter 10
The second Riley opened the door to his apartment, Dawson surged forward, finding his lips in a desperate, needy kiss. He took no notice of anything else in the place as he kicked the door shut behind himself. Riley shoved him against it, taking over like he always did. Dawson moaned and grappled at him, needing all of it.
Riley kissed down his throat, and Dawson threaded his fingers through Riley’s thick hair, holding him in place. They parted only long enough for Riley to lift Dawson’s shirt over his head, and then their mouths met again, like two magnets unable to resist the pull. They tugged at belts and pants and underwear until they were naked and stumbling towards what Dawson hoped was either a couch or a bed. Honestly, he wouldn’t even protest if Riley took him to the floor. Any surface worked. He didn’t care as long as it meant keeping hold of this man.
“Gideon is on his way,” Riley whispered hoarsely. He pushed Dawson onto the couch and followed him down, his weight against Dawson, their cocks sliding together.
Fuck, that couldn’t be any more perfect. “How—when—” Dawson couldn’t get full sentences out. He wanted them both in this room, right fucking now.
“I think we should get you all slicked up and ready for him by the time he gets here,” Riley said, a hand slipping between Dawson’s legs to stroke at his hole.
Dawson clenched in response, the words a visceral stroke against his dick.
Best plan ever. “You don’t—you—” He gasped, tipping his head back as Riley marked up his skin. “Your position—you don’t—” He squirmed under Riley, lifting his hips and begging for more.
“Bottom?” Riley asked. “No, I don’t. Stay there.”
Dawson lay there, breathing harshly as Riley left. He gave himself a second to look around and get his bearings; he’d noticed exactly zero from the moment he’d been in there. Riley lived in a studio apartment, his kitchen, living room, and bedroom all in one area, though quite spacious. He couldn’t see the bed since a long bookcase and a single step up separated the two areas and gave some semblance of privacy. It was all black marble countertops in the kitchen, sleek and modern. Everything neat and tidy, nothing out of place.
Sparse, yet warm. A perfect representation of Riley himself.
When Riley returned with lube and condoms from what had to be the bathroom, Dawson dropped a leg off the side of the couch to give Riley room to settle against his hips.
They got distracted, kissing again, Riley pulling Dawson up into a half-sitting position as he mapped out his mouth and drove all thoughts from Dawson’s mind. This is what he’d needed. What he’d come here for. He’d known Riley would make it better and calm all the turmoil.
Riley coaxed him to lie back down, and Dawson took them both, unwilling to let go just yet.
Riley kissed so seriously, with all his intense focus on Dawson. Nothing could top the feeling it gave Dawson to be the centre of attention for this man. Except sharing it with Gideon, like having them both multiplied it.
A lubed finger stroked over his hole, massaging gently before two pushed inside, stretching him as they slid in deep. Dawson clutched at Riley’s shoulders, gasping. This was exactly what he’d needed. This connection with the one person in the world he shouldn’t have gone anywhere near.
“Squeeze around my fingers—yes, just like that.” Riley fucked him slowly, taking his time. “Feel how good you’re taking me? You’re fucking perfect.” Riley slid another finger in, and Dawson groaned, the words washing over him like a warm blanket just pulled from the dryer.
He tried to think of something—anything—to say, but he could never hope to match Riley’s mouth. He could only take and hope that Riley never stopped. Hope that when this all came out, he wouldn’t lose everything.
Riley moved down his chest, teeth scraping over skin and his tongue soothing the passage. Over his stomach, around his belly button, and then lower, nose nuzzling Dawson’s rock-hard cock. Dawson pushed his hips up, seeking more.
Those fingers never stopped fucking Dawson with a steady pace that drove him wild. Dawson gripped the couch and Riley’s forearm, squirming on the talented fingers at the same time he was wishing he had Riley’s cock inside him, tearing him apart.
Riley sucked only the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around with the perfect amount of suction. A hand kept his hip in place so he couldn’t force more of it into Riley’s mouth the way he wanted to.
Frustration ate at him. He could never get enough, needed more. It would be so easy to tip across into something altogether more satisfying. Riley seemed intent on not going over, taking Dawson to the brink and then stopping until he calmed, only to do it all over again.
Delaying the inevitable while they waited for Gideon? Or simply to drive him to madness until he’d turned into nothing but a bundle of nerves, eager, unbearably turned on, with a craving for completion that took over his very being?
Riley took him fully into his mouth. Dawson had barely a second to enjoy the wet heat before Riley pulled all the way off. A mere glimpse of heaven.
“Fuck,” he cursed, draping his forearm over his eyes.
“Do you need something, Dawson?” Riley asked.
“You fucking know I do,” he bit out.
Riley thrust harder, fingers skimming his prostate. Fuckkkkk. Dawson cried out, arm flinging to grip the edge of the couch as he held on. Riley didn’t let up, plunging into him over and over until he was so close his entire body thrummed with it. Involuntary whines left Dawson’s lips in a litany of pleasure.
Then the asshole slowed down , dragging Dawson down from his high without giving him satisfaction.
Uncalled-for torture.
“And what is it you need?” Riley whispered, lips gliding over Dawson’s jaw, his stubble a pleasant rasp over his skin. He hoped it left a mark, that Riley left a mark not soon forgotten. Pieces of him that he could keep.
Dawson lifted a knee, resting it against the back of the couch to spread himself even wider. “I want your dick.”
“But do you need it?” Riley asked, readjusting his position and stretching his full length over Dawson, pushing him down into the cushions with his weight. Dawson might be bigger, but Riley’s dominance rendered that point moot. Only one of them held power here, and it wasn’t Dawson.
“Yes,” Dawson groaned out. “I need it.” More than needed it. More akin to an obsession, an itch that he couldn’t reach, an ache he couldn’t shift.
Dawson could have wept at the sound of a condom wrapper ripping open. They’d made sure to use them ever since their first time in the shower, though Dawson would have agreed to anything that Riley wanted. There had never been a more responsible person in the entire fucking world, and Dawson trusted him even if he shouldn’t.
He tugged Riley down for another obscene kiss as the head of his cock nudged at Dawson’s entrance.
A buzzing noise interrupted them. Riley paused with the head of his cock barely inside Dawson.
“No.” No . Riley couldn’t stop now, not so close to giving him what he needed.
“That will be Gideon downstairs,” Riley murmured. He thrust all the way into Dawson without warning. Dawson’s mouth opened in a silent gasp, arching his back against the sudden intrusion. “He’s waiting downstairs to have his turn at your perfect ass. Should we make him wait for it?”
Dawson could only moan needily as Riley fucked him hard and fast, pounding into him with a ferocity that curled his toes. Yesyesyes.
His orgasm rose to the surface, so goddamn close, and then Riley stopped again .
“You motherfucker,” Dawson growled in frustration. “Don’t fucking stop.”
Riley licked the corner of Dawson’s mouth. “Are you swearing at me, Dawson?”
Dawson groaned in annoyance. “No.”
“It sounded like you were.”
“I need to come, Riley. Please. Please .”
“Close your eyes.”
He’d obeyed before he’d even registered the words properly. He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d moved from “you’re a dick” to “I need your dick” to “your wish is my command.” He couldn’t deny that he loved the way Riley took control and made Dawson bend.
Riley pulled out of him, leaving him horribly empty. “Don’t move,” he said against Dawson’s lips, and then the weight lifted completely. The emptiness swamped him, even worse from the lack of Riley altogether.
What would Riley do if Dawson moved? He almost did to find out. The throbbing need in his belly, the pulsing of his cock, and the unsteady beat of his heart stopped him. He wanted to get fucked again more than he wanted to play games.
He moved to stroke his cock, hesitated, and then lowered his arm. He doubted Riley would like that either.
He’d become nothing but a vessel that needed to be filled.