47. Jace
JACE
Production: “Do you feel like Kieran brings out a different side of you?”
Jace: “Yeah. He’s always had a way of bringing out the real me. Guess some things don’t change.”
“Fine, Jace. You want me to use you? Then let’s see if you ever learned how to use that thing,” Kieran taunts. “Fuck me.”
I don’t think I’ve dealt with this many conflicting emotions since the last time Kieran was in my life.
I crave him in a way that’s so intense, I can barely form a complete thought beyond mine.
I’d remembered our connection seeming so much stronger than any other relationship I’ve attempted over the years, but I thought I’d built it up in my head because he was the one that got away and all that.
But this, this is real. Kieran just pulled my dick out and told me to fuck him.
And the lust coursing through me is all consuming.
Actually, he mocked me first, and as much as I’ve always thought our back and forth was hot, I don’t think he realized how valid his taunt may be.
I haven’t topped anyone in years.
My last relationship was with a woman. I had sex with her, but the only anal sex she enjoyed was the kind where she was wearing a strap-on and fucking me, which I was more than happy about.
When I first moved to the city and spent every weekend in gay bars and clubs, I participated in all sorts of hookups, but my first official boyfriend preferred to top, and I enjoyed bottoming enough that it became my preference going forward.
It’s been a long time since I prepped anyone. But I’ve been on the other end enough times to know what I’m doing; I’m not worried about hurting him.
I’ve enjoyed it in the past. I guess, technically, I’d consider myself to be vers.
It’s not that I don’t want to fuck him—because I really do—I’m just worried that he’s expecting me to be some burly dominant top because I’m bigger than him.
What if, in his eyes, I literally “won’t know how to use it” like he teased?
“There are condoms and lube in the front pocket of my suitcase,” he informs me, misreading my hesitation.
“Where do you want to do this?” I ask, stepping back to retrieve the supplies.
This might not be exactly how I fantasized about having sex with Kieran would be, I wish he wasn’t still claiming to hate me so we could talk about our preferences, but I don’t think he’s ready for that.
And I could never say no to him. If he wants me to fuck him tonight—with rules about not kissing and reminders that he hasn’t forgiven me—then I need to do a good enough job that he’ll want me again and again until maybe, finally, he’ll let me kiss him.
Just like I wanted to all those years ago.
“Not the bed, that’s not what this is,” he says dismissively, taking the bottle of lube from my hand as he heads to the vanity.
“This should be a fine height.” Then he’s shoving his pants and underwear down in one quick motion.
I barely have time to process it before he’s bent over the dresser, slicking his fingers and starting to work himself open.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I scold, swatting his hand away.
“Prepping myself,” he says plainly over his shoulder. “This isn’t some dramatic virginal first time. I’m horny, I want your dick in my ass, and it’ll be faster if I do it myself.”
“Fuck that,” I say, grabbing his wrist when he reaches for the lube again.
Then I grab his other wrist for good measure until I have them both in one fist, holding them against the small of his back.
His perky round ass is taunting me, glistening with the lube he managed to put on his hole before I stopped him.
I lean in so my mouth is right next to his ear. “If you want me to fuck you, Sparkles, then you’re going to let me open you up myself.”
“Don’t call me that,” he spits out, turning to glare at me.
“Why not?” I demand as I add more lube onto my free hand and start to work a finger inside him. It’s my fucking name for him. I should get to call him that more than anyone else. “I thought you liked my nickname?” I accuse. “Made it your whole brand. Everyone else can use it but me? Is that it?”
“It’s different coming from you and you know it.”
I work a second finger in easily, and despite our supposed anger, he’s doing a great job of staying relaxed physically so that I can stretch his hole. He’s so tight, so soft and warm, the thought of replacing my fingers with my cock has me ready to burst.
“I still get under your skin after all these years? Huh, K?” I drag my leaking erection against his bare ass as I slowly work him open. I want to take my time with him because I don’t know how many chances I’ll get to see him pent up and desperate for my cock like this.
“I haven’t thought about you in years,” he hisses. “You’re the fan, remember? Do you really watch my videos? Do you stroke yourself to me filming for millions of people?”
“Shut up,” I grit, pushing a third finger inside, stretching him wider. “Or maybe I should slow down, leave you begging. You might have millions of people who adore you, but I’m the only one you’re trembling for right now. As much as you might claim to hate me, you still want me to fuck you.”
He lets out a broken sound, half laugh, half groan. “Beg? That’s rich. Do you remember who was the one choking on the other’s dick last night?”
Fuck, he knows I haven’t stopped thinking about him, and I don’t even care. But if he needs us to keep taunting each other to justify what we’re doing, to excuse it, I’ll let him think that’s all this is. For now.
“Yeah, well, tonight you’re the one spread open for me,” I snarl, teeth scraping down the back of his neck. God, I wish I could kiss him. “Are you going to take every inch of me, K? No amount of running your mouth can change how much you’ll love that.”
“You think I can’t? Try me,” he fires back, but his body clenches around my fingers like it’s already bracing. And I know he wants this just as badly as I do. “Fuck me, hot shot.”
I yank my fingers free and finally drop his wrists as I reach for the condom, quickly putting it on before slicking myself up and lining my tip up to his waiting hole.
I grip the base of my shaft as I push the head of my cock inside him, and I swear I almost black out from how insanely good it feels and I’m hardly inside of him.
I glance at the mirror and nearly freeze.
It’s everything I used to dream about, everything I ever imagined we could be, everything I thought I’d lost the right to want.
And yet, it’s even better than I ever let myself hope, because it’s real.
I’m inside Kieran, the man I’ve idolized for as long as I can remember, the one no one has been able to compare to.
I never, in a million years, thought that I’d get to have sex with him again.
That I would actually get to experience what it’s like to have him this way.
For a second, it almost feels like he’s really letting me back in, but then it hits me that I’m romanticizing what this really is. He isn’t forgiving me. He’s still angry, and I’m still trying to earn something that was never mine to begin with.
The thought burns through me, and I channel every bit of it into the way I move—into giving him exactly what he wants—as I snap my hips forward.
“Yeah, keep pretending,” I growl when I’m fully inside of him. The grunt he makes shoots fire straight down my spine.
“Fuck,” he rasps, knuckles gripping the dresser. “That’s all you’ve got? Thought you said every inch.”
He wants to really feel me? Fine. I’ll fuck him harder.
I slam forward, burying myself to the hilt in one brutal thrust that knocks the breath from both of us.
My hand clamps down on his hip, and I shift the other lower, lifting his leg so it’s bent, nearly propped on the dresser as I hold him steady in this new position that allows me even deeper.
I drag out slowly, setting a torturous pace with long punishing strokes, each one forcing him to feel exactly how deep I’m inside of him.
“Still talking shit? Going to pretend you’re not loving this when those pretty sounds keep coming out of your mouth?” I pant against his ear as he lets out another low noise of pleasure. “Because all I hear is you moaning for my cock like you’ve been waiting for it for the last thirteen years.”
He twists his head, smirking even through the sweat slicking his temple, and drawing my attention to his eyebrow piercing. Why is that so hot? “Keep telling yourself that. You’re just here to make me come, hot shot. Same as back then.”
His claim hits like a slap to the face, but the way his body clenches around me betrays his words, dragging a groan out of my chest I can’t hold back. I thrust harder, chasing that same reaction from him again.
“Yeah?” I rasp, snapping my hips. “The way your ass keeps squeezing me like it’s begging to milk my cock for every last drop of my cum feels like you might be enjoying this, K. You might not want to use your words to beg me, but your body seems pretty desperate, and I don’t think that’s an act."
“Fuck. You,” he spits out between pants as I continue to pound into him.
“You already are,” I snarl, grinding in deep until he shudders under me.
“And you love it. I can feel you shaking.” I reach up, thread my hand through his hair, and force his gaze forward toward the mirror.
“Look at us. Look at who’s inside of you right now, driving you wild with my cock.
” He locks on our reflection, and the heat in his gaze sends another bolt of lust down my spine.
I can’t wait any longer. Releasing my hold on his head to reach my arm around him, I finally wrap my hand around his straining erection.
He shudders again as I swipe my thumb over his tip, spreading the precum that’s leaking from it.
I give him a few rough strokes before removing my hand, and smirk at the sound of protest that escapes him.
“Spit,” I command in explanation as I hold my hand in front of his mouth.
He glares at me through the mirror for a moment, probably struggling between following my directions and wanting my hand back on him.
With a roll of his eyes, he concedes, spitting into my palm.
“Good boy,” I mutter into his ear, and he drives his elbow back into me, but it only makes me chuckle into his neck before I whisper right into his ear again.
“I felt the way your ass clenched around me at the praise. You don’t need to hide from me, Kieran. I see you.”
He shakes his head, but the only thing that comes out are pleading sounds that instantly become my new favorite.
His spine bows under me as he takes every brutal thrust. His perfect ass is swallowing my dick like they were made to fit together, the pleasure so much more than I can ever remember from topping.
And even if this is the only time I get to have him like this, I know I'll never move on. This will be burned into my memory forever as the moment I got everything I’d ever wanted, even with the glares and hatred.
It’ll be the best sex of my life, and I hate knowing that it’ll probably never happen again.
“Not so mouthy now, huh?” I taunt, trying to distract myself from how much this actually means to me.
He laughs, a ragged, breathless sound, but still tries to throw it back in my face. “This all you’ve got? Thought you’d break me by now.”
I bare my teeth, driving into him harder, faster, the sound of our skin slapping together loud and filthy. “You want to be broken, K? I’ll make sure you feel me every time you sit down tomorrow.”
That drags another sound from him—half groan, half moan—that betrays how much he wants it.
“Just as eager as I remember, and it’s all for me. You’re mine like this,” I snarl, still holding eye contact in the mirror. “Always have been. You can run your mouth and lie to me all night, but your actions reveal your truth. You want this. Want me.”
“I just want to come. You can go to hell for all I care,” he snarls, but it breaks on another moan when I slam in deep and hold there, grinding until he’s shaking.
“Already there,” I growl against his ear, pounding into him like I might just be able to fuck the fight right out of him. “And you’re coming with me.”
“Fuck—I’m gonna—” he chokes out, but I cut him off by pounding even harder, chasing down his release.
“Come for me. Come on my cock. Make a mess of yourself.”
Seconds later, his hole grips me like a vice, and his dick jerks in my grip as he comes all over the dresser in front of him.
The way he squeezes me drags my own orgasm out of me, the pleasure almost painful with how intense it is as I spill into the condom with a groan, grinding through it until every last pulse is wrung out of us both.
When I finally let go, he slumps against the wood, breath ragged, dark hair plastered to his forehead. I pull back slowly, lowering his leg back to the ground, leaving him trembling with his arms shaking where he still clings to the edge.
Kieran doesn’t look at me when he pulls himself off the dresser. His thighs are unsteady as he stumbles toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
I stand there, chest heaving, thinking about how badly I wish I could kiss him, but knowing that isn’t what this is.
Instead of letting myself get caught up in that fantasy, I close my eyes, replaying the heat of him clenching around me, the way his body gave me everything even while his mouth spit fire.
Being buried inside of him like that was enough, even without the intimacy of kissing.
It has to be because it was more than I ever dreamed of having again.
The best thing I’ve had in years. Since him.
He’s always been it for me.
I came on this show hoping to meet someone who might come close to the version of Kieran I’d built up in my mind. Someone to distract me from my constant thoughts of him. Instead, I ended up with the man himself.
Originally, I thought this might be my opportunity to finally apologize for what happened back then, to make up for my mistakes.
But what if it could be more?
I stand here in the room—our room—knowing we’ll both pretend tomorrow that this was nothing but rage and old habits.
But we started like this back then too, and there was a time that I believed he might actually like me the way I realized I liked him.
In the short time we’ve been back together again, we’ve already given in to the pull between us twice.
Maybe, just maybe, this time we could do more than apologize. Maybe it could be a real second chance for us to get our happy ending.
No matter how small that chance may be, I know I have to try.