Chapter 43
Forty-Three
Victor
Jason asked me to be still for him and I’m doing my level best, but the man is irresistible.
I risk moving just enough to push up to my elbows so I can watch him undress.
He’s methodical about it, like he is about everything else.
He takes the time to hang his suit up in his goddamn closet, getting the creases on his pants just right, arranging his tie on a rack that contains a couple dozen colorful or patterned silks.
I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to sacrifice one of those ties to the cause of keeping me still. He runs a hand down them and looks over his shoulder at me, as if he’s considering the same idea, but doesn’t pull any from the rack.
Maybe next time.
I’m starting to hope there might be a next time.
He tosses his shirt and undershirt into a laundry hamper in the closet and turns back to the bed wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs. There’s a gratifying bulge in the front.
He regards me, his hands on his hips. My dick is spent but there’s a curl of anticipation in my stomach at the way he’s looking at me.
Hungry.
Like he wants to devour me and he’s barely holding himself in check.
I hope he lets go.
“Jay…” I’m not begging, exactly, but it sort of sounds like that.
“Yes?” There’s a note of quiet confidence in his voice. Like he knows what I want, but more importantly, knows what he wants. And knows he’s going to get it.
“I thought you were going to fuck me.” Goddammit, that sounds more like a whine.
His lips curve into a smile. “Oh, I am, babe. Don’t worry about that.”
And yet he still doesn’t take any steps toward me. He’s just standing there, eating me with his eyes, his dick straining toward me, but the rest of him at a distance too far away to touch.
“Okay, but…” When? is what I’m about to ask and then he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear and peels it slowly down and off. I expect him to toss them in the laundry hamper but he abandons them on the floor where he dropped them and stalks toward the bed.
He steps in between my legs and plants a hand in the middle of my chest. I resist the steady pressure for a moment, to make him work for it a little. His eyes widen and his brows raise. “Is that how we’re playing it?”
I let my elbows buckle and drop back onto the mattress, which makes him fall with me until he catches himself with a braced arm, his other hand on the mattress next to me.
“Not today,” I tell him. Maybe another time.
He reestablishes his balance and runs both hands over my chest and arms. “I’m not sure I could take you,” he says as his hands squeeze my biceps.
It’s probably true that I’m stronger than Jason is, but, “Maybe it depends on your motivation,” I say.
He smiles at me and his eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that makes my heart turn over. “Maybe it does.”
His hands have reached my wrists and he pulls my arms over my head, bends them at the elbows and arranges them so they’re resting on the mattress, over my head. “Hold your wrists or forearms,” he orders, and I clasp my elbows.
Another smile, another lift of his brows. “Mmm, flexible, are you? I’ll have to test that someday.”
My legs are still hanging off the end of the bed and Jason’s bed is tall enough that I believe he’s planning to fuck me while standing at the end of it. “This position is going to tweak my lower back after a while,” I confess.
He grabs under my thighs and lifts them. “Slide up the bed a little.”
I awkwardly shimmy up the bed without letting go of my elbows, enough that I can plant my feet on the edge. “Better?” Jason asks.
I nod.
“Good.” He leaves me like that, knees bent, legs spread wide, my arms overhead and I feel trussed up and exposed. It’s…hotter than I expected.
I can’t quite see what he’s doing but there’s the sound of a drawer opening and closing and he passes into and out of my line of sight again.
When he returns, he’s got a towel in one hand and a bottle of lube the other.
He tosses the lube on the bed next to me and runs a hand down the inside of my leg. “Lift up a little.”
I lift my hips and he positions the towel underneath me. Smart idea. If we’re going to engage in sweaty, messy sex, he probably doesn’t want to have to wash the duvet cover immediately after the afterglow.
Or this is another delaying tactic to continue ramping up my anticipation, because Jason’s fussing, spreading the towel just right on either side of me, and each time his hands brush my thighs, my skin lights up.
He finally steps in between my spread legs and grabs the lube.
I let my head fall back onto the mattress and close my eyes.
There’s the snick of a cap opening, and then, without further ado, or warning, Jason smears a glob of lube over my hole.
It’s cold and I flinch, even though I’ve been waiting for this for what feels like hours.
Days, maybe.
Jason presses a finger inside me and I’m relaxed enough after coming just a minute ago that he can pull out almost immediately and slide two fingers in.
He pumps them in and out a few times and my toes curl over the edge of the bed.
When he judges me ready, he pulls his fingers out.
I feel his knee nudge the back of my thigh just before the blunt head of his dick presses against me.
I resist the temptation to lift my hips, press back against him, or any other method of assisting him.
“You’re being so good for me, babe,” he says. I can’t tell whether it’s the keeping still or the praise, or both, that is really doing it for me. I feel like I can’t move, even if I wanted to, unless Jason wants me to.
He slides a hand over my thigh, tucks it underneath to pull my leg over his hip, then leans his weight forward to press slowly inside me.
“Jesus.” I breathe out shakily.
“No, just me,” Jason says, and there’s a note of suppressed amusement in his voice. I blink my eyes open at him. There’s a furrow between his brows but a soft smile on his lips.
I love you.
I want to say these words out loud. I want to hear him say them to me. Because as much as I want him to nail me hard enough that I’ll feel it tomorrow, I want more than that.
He said he’s leaving his position at Saint Sebastian’s but he also said that he’s not doing it for me or because of me. So, nothing has changed since we were in Costa Rica.
Certainly not my willingness to accept whatever Jason is willing to give me.
And boy does he give it to me. Once he bottoms out, he stays there for a long moment, breathing heavily.
Then he starts pounding into me, hard and fast. All I can do is squeeze my elbows tight and hold on for the ride.
He nails my prostate with every stroke. I’m going to come again if he keeps this up.
Which of course he does because he knows exactly how to drive me over the cliff. I have no idea how he learned that so quickly, though I suppose I learned he was a natural that first night we were together.
“Victor,” he says. He wraps a hand around my dick and it’s slippery, hot, and perfect. “Come for me, my heart.”
My own heart skips a beat. Did he just say…?
Whatever, I’m too far gone to pay attention to the words falling from his lips. He’s got both my legs clutched around his waist, I’m still holding my elbows, and pleasure coils tight at the base of my spine, then unspools through my whole body, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.
His strokes and thrusts speed up. And then, just as I’m on the verge of coming a second time, he lets go of my dick, moves both hands to my hips and yanks me against him as he thrusts.
He grinds his pelvis against me and his fingers dig into my cheeks. He throws his head back, groans, and his dick pulses inside me.
When he slumps over me, breathing hard, my own dick is still an iron rod laying on my stomach. The brush of Jason’s stomach against it chokes a whimper from my throat. “Jason,” I say. Okay, more like beg. “Please. I’ve…”
He lifts up, bracing himself on his arms on either side of me. My legs are dangling off the edge of the bed and his cock is slowly softening inside me. I don’t want him to pull out, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold this position.
“Yes, you’ve been so good, babe. I’ll take care of you.”
He pours a puddle of lube into his hand, then grasps my dick, and squeezes in the best way. He stays in between my legs, pressed as close as possible, so he hasn’t entirely slipped out, and strokes me.
I let go of my elbows, though I keep my arms over my head. That sense of powerlessness is back and I’m floating on a cloud of Jason taking care of me, where I have nothing to worry about and nothing to do except let him.
He squeezes and strokes and the waves are back, rolling through my body, cresting in my pelvis, and rushing out of my dick in spurts of white that coat Jason’s fingers and my stomach.
When I finish, I’m a boneless, sprawling lump on the end of Jason’s bed. Jason steps away and my legs flop off the edge of the mattress. He comes back quickly, with a warm cloth that he uses to clean me up. Then he stretches a hand out to me and when I grasp it, he pulls me upright.
I’m still a little wobbly and the last thing I want to do after a mind-blowing orgasm like that is rush back into my clothes and out into the busy streets.
“Do you…” Jason starts hesitantly. “Have any plans for the rest of the day?”
I shake my head.
“Would you stay for a while, then?” He brushes a stray lock of hair from my forehead. “You look like you could use a nap.”
“Wow, man. Harsh,” I joke.
Jason chuckles. “I just meant you look sleepy.”
Boy, am I. Sleepy and sated and, after Jason pulls the covers down and settles in next to me with his arms around me, content.