Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Jason
Victor’s eyes dart between my face and my cock and I feel a spark of something long buried wake up. Victor has the same expression on his face that Leah used to have when we played games like this. A little dazed, a little cautious, a little hopeful.
Something wells up in me and I remember this feeling. The headiness of it. I want more. I want.
Not just sex, though my cock is hard and aching.
I want that feeling of power I used to find sometimes with Leah. Like I owned the world because she gave a measure of control up to me. I never abused it. I’ve seen too much of how thin the line between control and abuse can be.
But there is a line there, a clear demarcation between taking control when willingly offered and taking over someone’s own will. Victor looks like he’s familiar with that line, too, and willing to give it up to me.
“Well?” I say and I ratchet up the level of firmness in my voice. God, it’s been so long since I’ve done this. I hope I don’t fuck it up.
Victor blinks his eyes and gives a tiny shake of his head, like he’s just waking up. “Well what?”
“Pick something you want me to do to you.”
“I don’t want to pick. I want you to.”
I purse my lips and tip my head, looking him up and down like I’m deciding what to do. He’s lying here, all long limbs and muscles on offer, but that’s not the game I want to play here. “No.”
He blinks again. “No?”
“No. I picked what we did last time. And the first time. Right now, I want you to pick.”
He said that he wanted what happened between us. Now I want him to show me that he wants it. Not just that he’s willing to do whatever I want him to do. But that he really, truly wants me. I want him to beg me.
“You can have anything you want,” I tell him. “You just have to ask for it.”
“I want you to kiss me,” he says immediately.
I kneel up on the bed, lean over him, and kiss the tip of his nose, careful to keep any other part of my body from touching his. “Where do you want me to kiss you?”
“Everywhere.” When I settle back on my heels and look at him again, he offers a winning smile. “Please?”
“Yes, that’s the magic word, but I’m afraid I’ll need you to be more specific. Exactly where should I kiss you and for how long?”
Victor blushes a charming pink and really, how is it that he’s so shy all of a sudden?
He’s the one with more experience here. With men, anyway, and with the kinds of games I used to play with Leah.
He’s the one who’s been tossing around words like “dominant” and “submissive” and telling me that Logan and Silas have a Daddy/boy dynamic, something I still don’t really understand.
I used to make Leah ask for what she wanted and she’d squirm and blush and pretend she couldn’t say the words, and it got her—and me—hotter the longer it took to drag it out of her. I didn’t expect Victor, of all people, to be the same.
“Come on, babe,” I insist. “Tell me where you want me to kiss you.”
Victor throws an arm over his face. His other hand is clutching the sheets at his hip and the knuckles are turning white. “Fine. There’s a spot behind my ears that I like. Kiss me there, please.”
I know the spot. I’ve kissed him there before. I swing a leg over him and straddle his hips, but I make sure that my cock doesn’t brush against his when I lean forward.
I bring my lips to his neck, just below his earlobe, and give him a closed-mouth kiss. “There? Is that the spot?”
He tilts his head to expose more of his throat to me. “A little higher and behind my ear.”
I move a few millimeters and kiss him again, also with my lips closed. “There?”
“Not…” he swallows and this close to him, I can hear the click in his throat. “Not exactly. Up a little more, and…um…back, I think.”
I move another millimeter or two. “Here?”
He shifts under me, his hips lifting, and I tighten my legs around his hips to keep him still. He does still but he also huffs a disgruntled noise. “Damn it, Jason.”
I take pity on him. “Alright, babe. I’m right here.”
I find the spot and lick at it before fastening my lips over it and sucking a hard kiss into the skin. “Ahhh,” he moans.
I suck and nibble and lick at the spot until he’s a quivering mess beneath me, then lift my head and breathe into his ear, “What else do you want me to do to you, Victor?”
There’s no hesitation this time. “My nipples,” he pants. “And you don’t have to be gentle.”
I keep up my oral assault on his neck while I drag my hand down his chest until I find a hard nub.
I pinch and squeeze his nipple between my fingers at the same time I nibble and suck at his earlobe and neck.
I’m more or less indifferent to nipple play myself—mine just aren’t that sensitive—but I’m delighting in how much Victor seems to be enjoying this.
I switch sides, which earns me a reproachful whimper when I pull away from Victor, but when I re-settle into kissing and nibbling at the other side of his neck and pinching and squeezing his other nipple, Victor sighs and moves the arm he’d thrown over his face so that it’s around my shoulders and back, pulling me closer to him.
“That’s it, babe,” I whisper in his ear. He shivers. “All you have to do is ask for what you want and I’m at your service.”
“Can you suck on my nipples and stroke my dick?”
“Of course.”
I kiss over his collarbones and along the dip between his pecs while I shift down so my mouth is level with his nipples. I start there, my mouth on one and my fingers pinching and plucking at the other.
“Jason, please.” He’s panting now and biting his lip and that’s close enough to begging to satisfy me.
“Sorry,” I tell him. “Got distracted there for a minute.”
I switch my mouth to his other nipple and smooth my hand down over his stomach.
He’s mostly hairless, just a thin happy trail of dark blond leading to his cock, which is hot and hard when I wrap my hand around it.
The tip is already wet and I swipe my palm over it before smearing the wetness along his length.
“God, yes, Jason, that’s it…a little tighter and…oh yes,” he’s babbling, and Blessed Virgin and all the saints, I want to hear him say my name in that half-choked, blissed-out, deep voice all night long.
I do tighten my grip, but I also slow down my strokes. As close as he seems to be, I don’t want to end this too soon. I suck hard on his abused nipple, which is plump and tight in my mouth, and let my teeth scrape over it. This wins me a whine and Victor’s chest arches up from the mattress.
When he flinches the next time I use teeth, I switch to the other nipple and swap hands around his cock.
I squeeze and stroke, closing my fingers over the head each time, and he starts lifting his hips to thrust into my hand.
When he plants one foot on the bed to give himself more leverage, I roll off his thigh and sprawl between his legs so that he can get the other foot in place.
And then, because Victor is correct and I do like taking control, I slow my strokes down and wedge my elbows into his hip creases to push his hips down.
This puts me at about eye level with his cock. “Do you want me to suck you off?” I ask.
Victor is squirming in the limited space I’ve left him. “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” He’s breathless and glistening with sweat. His hair is darker at his temples and a bead of sweat rolls down his chest, between his pecs, and disappears into his navel.
“I know I don’t have to.” I’m still stroking him, but slowly, and I’m pretty sure he’s close. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to. My question is: do you want that?”
I suspect he’s giving me an out because I’ve never given a blow job before. I hope he’s not declining because he thinks I won’t be any good at it.
“God, yes,” he groans. “Please.”
I crawl up his body and plant my elbows on either side of his head. His cock is trapped between our bodies and mine hardens alongside his.
He lifts his face for a kiss but I hover above him, just out of reach. “Ask me,” I murmur. “Ask me for what you want.”
“Jason,” he says and his voice is deep and rough. He brings his hands to the small of my back and strokes up to my shoulder blades. “Please, will you suck my dick?”
“Of course, Victor. Thank you for asking me.” There’s something deliciously powerful about making him say the words, and, from the glazed look on his face, he feels it, too.
I slide down his body and sprawl once again between his bent knees. I wrap one hand around the base of his cock and lick up the underside from root to tip. Then I take him into my mouth.
I discover in fairly short order that sucking cock works different jaw muscles than going down on a woman, but I relish the new experience. I work him with my lips and tongue until his thighs tremble on either side of my head.
“Jason?” His voice is strained but there’s a definite question in it.
I pull off and lift my head. “Yes, Victor?”
“Would you…?”
I lick a bead of fluid from his slit and he moans loud enough to fill the room. “I told you, I’ll do anything you want. All you have to do is ask me.”
“Could you stick a finger in me?”
“Absolutely, Victor,” I say immediately.
I moisten a finger in my mouth between sucks and lift his heavy balls up to expose his hole. I circle his rim and press gently while sliding my mouth down until his cock nudges the back of my throat.
“Oh fuck, Jason, I’m going to come. Pull off if you don’t want…” He trails off with a deep grunt when my finger brushes against a spongy spot. “Fuck, Jason, right there. I can’t… Oh, God…”
His hand is flapping somewhere in the vicinity of my ear and I bat it away. Yes, I want him to come down my throat. I massage his prostate while sucking steadily and Victor shouts when he floods my mouth.
I keep sucking and swallowing and stroking inside him until his cock stops pulsing and his knees flop open.
His legs drop bonelessly onto the mattress and I let his softening cock slip out of my mouth.
I withdraw my finger gently, plant a kiss on the inside of each thigh, and duck into the bathroom to wash my hands and rinse out my mouth.
When I return to the bed, Victor’s splayed like a starfish amid the tangled sheets. Hearing him ask me for what he wanted and sucking him off were the most arousing things that have happened to me in years. He cocks an eyebrow and gestures at my hard, leaking cock.
“Want a hand with that?”
“Actually,” I say. I straddle his hips and sit back so that his spent cock nestles just behind my ass. Experimentally, I let my weight settle onto him. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” he says. His hands come to rest on my thighs.
I wrap my own hand around my cock. “I want you to lie there while I…” I stroke myself a few times and rub the palm of my hand over my slit to gather the fluid leaking from it.
“Can I keep touching you?” he asks. “Please?”
“Yeah,” I grunt.
He slides his hands up and down my thighs, stroking inside, on top, and outside them, while I stroke my cock. Slowly, to match my own slow strokes, but he doesn’t speed up when my hand does.
Long, slow strokes, as much as he can reach, from my hips to my knees, and all the while, his eyes are locked to mine. It’s not entirely comfortable, jerking off while he gazes at me like this, but I can’t look away and neither, it seems, can he.
Each stroke of his hands on my thighs winds me tighter and tighter and my own hand speeds up. His lips part and I briefly think about taking advantage of his talented mouth but I’m caught in some sort of spell between my hand on my cock, his hands on my thighs, and his eyes holding mine.
I’m getting closer and closer, my hand slick and hot, and sweat beads up at Victor’s temples. The muscles in his thighs are clenching and shifting underneath me but his hands are still gentle and firm on my skin.
“Come for me, Jason,” he says, and it’s not an order, like I’ve given him. It’s a plea, a request, and the very softness of it is what tips me over. I unload all over his chest and stomach, still staring into his eyes, crinkled the tiniest bit at the corners.
When I’m done, panting and spent, he bends his knees and plants his feet on the mattress, which tips me forward. I break the fall with my hands braced on either side of his shoulders, to avoid landing in the mess I’ve made, and he slides his hands up my back, over my shoulders, and cups my face.
“I—,” he starts, then closes his mouth and licks his lips. “I’ve been wanting to see that for a long time.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just bend closer and kiss him. Over and over, until the inarticulate need to say things I can’t un-say recedes.
Eventually, I push off to fetch and wet a washcloth to clean him up. He lies there and lets me. We should get up and join the group for dinner, but by unspoken agreement, we don’t.
When I get back in bed, Victor turns onto his side and flaps a hand behind him. “I like being the little spoon.”
“What?”
He reaches back and grabs one of my arms and tugs me forward until I lurch against his back. He pulls my arm over his side. “Spoon me,” he demands.
Is this part of being a bossy bottom? I shift forward tentatively until I’m lying behind him. He bends his knees and mine automatically bend to tuck behind his. His back is warm and my not-entirely-soft dick settles between his ass cheeks. His hand encloses mine and he rests both against his chest.
“That was amazing, Jason,“ he murmurs sleepily. I kiss him behind his ear and relish the shiver that runs through him.
“Go to sleep, Victor.”
“Yes, Jay.”
I don’t even mind the nickname this time.