28. Jefferson
Jefferson
I want to say no. That the effort was put in a little too late.
That if he really loved me, he wouldn’t have cared about his family or appearances.
But I can’t bring myself to do it. Not when I know the homelife he came from.
During our split, I had time to think and really decide if I wouldn't have acted the same way if I were in his position.
There was no answer. I didn't know. I couldn't know without being in the same headspace. No one could unless they were.
Malcolm, with his steel grayish blue eyes that have a delectable blue shimmer, gazes at me. Waiting for the answer I’ve yet to give. The pain, sorrow and hope shining brightly in them.
I don’t know what snaps inside of me, but I’m moving without thinking, my lips crashing down on his, causing him to fall back on the couch, and his beer dropping to the floor is the least of my thoughts.
“The beer,” he mumbles almost incoherently.
“Forget about it,” I growl. “I’ll clean it later. Right now, all I want is for you to be quiet and kiss me.”
My words are all he needs to let go, to become free, opening his mouth to me so my tongue can slip in, caressing his as our kiss deepens.
He moans into my mouth and my cock jerks, coming alive hearing the familiar sounds of my lover.
My hand moves to his hip, gripping it tightly as I press my body into his.
God, I’ve missed this. Missed him. Breaking up with Malcolm was the hardest thing I ever did. But giving us a second chance? Will it be even more difficult? Fuck, I'm so confused.
Our lips break apart, the weight of the silence between us thick, tense. Our heaving breaths in sync with each other. Malcolm lifts his hand, his fingers toying lazily with my hair. My body shivers enjoying his delicate touch; it’s familiar. His eyes look at me with such longing and pure love.
God, I want this man so badly.
“You keep looking at me like that,” I murmur, my voice low and rough, “and I’m going to forget that we broke up and this, what we’re doing right now, can’t happen. Or the fact that I want more.”
Malcolm’s lips curve into a slow smirk. “Then maybe you should forget. I know I want to. In my mind, we’re still together. We’re finally on the same page for our present and our future now.”
That is all it takes.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask, my voice tight with restraint. It’s taking every ounce of my control to keep it together.
Malcolm nods, his voice little more than a whisper. “I want you, Jefferson. Always have. Not just for tonight but for the rest of my life.”
My mouth crashes against his, a claiming kiss that leaves no room for doubt.
It’s pure heat and hunger. Our hands begin to roam each other, our clothes a hindrance, keeping us from being skin to skin.
Clothes shift. Fingers slip under shirts, tugging, pulling, exploring bare skin as we rediscover each other's touch.
Malcolm lets out a gasp when my mouth moves and my teeth graze the underside of his jaw, and I can’t help but smile, savoring the sound.
“Bedroom,” I growl, needing to devour him. To be buried deep inside of him as I fill him with my cum.
Malcolm barely manages a breathless “Yeah,” before I’m standing, pulling him to his feet, guiding him down the hall. I’ve been here so many times before I could make my way to his bedroom in pure darkness.
We somehow make it to the bedroom, half-laughing, half-kissing, as we pull each other's clothes off along the way until we’re in nothing but our birthday suits. I spin him around, walking him backward until his legs bump the edge of the bed.
“Lie back for me,” I tell him as I watch his chest rising, eyes dark and heavy with lust.
Malcolm obeys without hesitation as he shifts his body, pulling his legs onto the bed, moving toward the center of it.
I place my knee on the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight as I slowly climb over him. Once I’m straddling him, l lower my head, stealing another kiss. One full of heat. Tonight I plan to take everything Malcolm has to give and worship him at the same time.
I don’t rush. Not when I have Malcolm exactly where I want him—beneath me, breathless, waiting—as I take my time teasing him. He’s tortured me by keeping us a dirty secret for so long; it’s time to return the favor.
My hands skim over his bare skin, palms broad and warm, claiming every inch of his body.
Dipping my head lower, I pepper kisses along his chin, neck and collarbone, nipping him lightly with my teeth, tugging on his skin.
Malcolm arches his body into me, his lips parting, a soft sigh slipping past his lips that sends a shiver down my spine.
“You feel that?” I murmur, brushing my knuckles over the curve of his hip. “The way I still affect you. How you crave me?”
Malcolm swallows hard. “Y-yessss,” he drags the word out.
I move my mouth to his ear, chuckling softly before I speak. “Good.”
I continue kissing him. My lips travel lower down his body, mapping out a path from his neck, collarbone, the center of his chest, kiss after kiss, making my way to the appendage I crave the most. Malcolm’s fingers curl into the sheets, and I’m loving it.
I grip his shaft in my hand, stroking it slowly from base to tip. “This cock is mine.”
Malcolm gazes at me, locking his hungry eyes with mine. “Yours,” he purrs.
Something primal stirs deep inside me at Malcolm’s honesty. The way his voice trembles for me. Normally I'm the one to have my cock sucked, but I decide to give a little to Malcolm tonight. Opening my mouth, my tongue slips out, licking around the tip, lapping at the seam.
“Ahhh…oh fuck,” he moans, his head pressing back into the pillow as he grips the sheets tighter, wrinkling the fabric between his fingers.
I bring his tip into my mouth, taking him in deeper as I massage his balls in my free hand. Malcolm moves his hand, his fingertips slipping through my salt and pepper strands. Bobbing my head faster, I push him to the brink, then pull back, edging him.
He did make me wait, so he doesn’t get to come. Not just yet anyway, not until I do.
Tonight isn’t just about us having pleasure. No, it’s about reminding him of the dynamics of our relationship. While I crave control, taking charge, Malcolm enjoys the surrender, the submissiveness.
“Ahh, baby, I need to come,” Malcolm whines, and I laugh, the gruff rumble vibrating along his cock. “Oh god, please let me come.”
I release him from my mouth with a soft pop. Malcolm gazes at me, his eyes half lidded as his chest rapidly rises and falls.
“Are the condoms and lube still in the same place?”
Malcolm nods, too worked up to answer. He goes to reach for his cock, and I swat his hand away.
“You don’t come until I say so.” My voice comes out harsh.
Malcolm pouts, poking that fucking delectable lip out, and I bend over and bite it.
Coming up on my knees I reach over, shifting my weight as I fumble with the drawer on the nightstand, pulling it open. I can’t see inside, but I manage to find the foil packet and the tube of lube.
Kneeling between Malcolm’s legs, my gaze rakes over him, taking my time as if I were reading a book, while gently stroking my cock.
“Keep your eyes on me,” my voice low and commanding. “Watch me stroke myself, wishing it was your mouth instead of my hand.”
Malcolm’s breath hitches, but he obeys, gaze locking with my eyes, not the movement of my hand. His breath hitches as he licks his lower lip, practically salivating over what I’m doing.
“I want you on your knees, ass in the air.” Lifting the foil packet to my mouth, I rip it open as Malcolm pulls his legs up, moving them around me and gets on all fours, giving a little shake of his ass.
“Tease,” I groan, spanking his ass, making him moan.
Placing the condom on my swollen mushroom head, I gently roll it down the smooth, veiny shaft all the way to the base, then give a little tug on the tip, making sure there's room to catch my cum.
“This ass is mine.”
“Yours.” He half groans. Half whimpers. God, I've missed hearing how he sounds as he comes apart beneath my touch.
“Tonight isn’t going to be slow and passionate. It's going to be hard and rough. You made me wait too long to have what we should've already had. Freedom to be us.”
“Please. Jefferson, please fuck me. I need you inside me,” he cries, his voice coming out in broken gasps.
Opening the lube I squirt some down the crack of his ass before recapping it and tossing it onto the nightstand.
Malcolm buries his head in his pillow, his body quivering as I drag my finger between his cleft all the way to his opening.
I rub a gentle circle around the rim before teasingly pressing the top of my finger into his opening.
Slow and steady. Each time going further.
One, then two, as I scissor my fingers, spreading his hole wider, preparing him to take me.
His groans send a direct message to my cock, as he begs me to be inside him. Malcolm begins to rock his hips, pushing himself onto my digits.
“None of that,” I remind him as I smack his ass. “I'm the one in control, and I’m the one that determines what pleasures you can have.”
I remove my fingers and Malcolm grunts in disapproval, quickly correcting himself before I have a chance. Lining my cock with his opening I thrust my hips forward, pushing myself inside of him. Not slow and delicate, but fast and hard.
I don't need to see Malcolm’s face to know his pupils are blown wide, lips trembling. Our bodies stay still, connected together while I give him a moment to adjust.
“You want more?” my gravelly voice asks. “You want it rougher?”
“Yes.” The word comes out hoarse and immediate. “Please,” he cries.
I smile, slow and wicked. I've missed his pleas so much.
“You’re going to take what I give you like a good boy. No coming until I tell you. No touching yourself without my permission.”
“Yes,” he all but whines.
His submission and consent is all I need. There's no holding back as I take hold of his hips, my grip so intense my nails pierce his flesh.
My body moves like a jackhammer as Malcolm's body willingly takes mine, begging for more than what I'm giving him. Our breaths become ragged, sweat glistening on our skin as we each come closer, inches from our release.
Sex is physical, yes, but this is more than that. It’s dominance and submission in the purest, most sacred sense. Not possession out of power, but devotion. Worship laced with dominance. And we are both equally giving our parts.
“You were made to take my cock,” I growl, my grip tightening as I speed my pace. “Made to be with me.”
Malcolm is all but shattering beneath me with a breathless cry, “I need to come. Please.”
He's been so good, and I see that the night has been hard for him. The man I love fought to be with me. Even when it cost him his family.
“Take your cock, stroke it, match my movement and let's come together.”
Malcolm doesn't hesitate. The only sounds in the room other than our groans are of skin slapping skin.
“Come,” I order as my balls tighten and my orgasm takes over, quickly mirrored by his. I hold Malcolm through it. Both of us are a trembling mess. I lean over pressing a gentle kiss to his back.
“Mine,” I whisper, voice husky but full of the promise it means. “You'll never hide who you are again.”
“Yours,” he whispers back.
I hold the condom at the base before gently pulling out of him.
“I’ll be right back. Don't move.”
Carefully pulling the condom off, I tie it in a knot and head to the bathroom. Trash, wash my hands and wet a cloth. I do it all in that order, then head back and gently clean Malcolm.
“Stay the night with me?” The uncertainty in his voice leaks through.
“Wasn't planning on leaving.”
We still have things to work through. Details I need to tell him. Bradley being one of them. But that's for tomorrow. I lie to myself and pretend that’s good enough. That pushing it off until daylight makes me less of a coward.
He moves under the blankets, laying on his back as his head rolls to the side, gazing at me. It’s a look of contentment. Of love. Of being home. I get it.
But something inside me cracks.
I climb into bed beside him, resting on my side, propped on one elbow, watching him like I used to. Like this is still simple. Like I’m not torn in two.
This man is my world. He always was.
But I left Bradley to come here, heart still aching for someone else. For someone I haven’t been honest with. Not really. Not fully. And maybe that’s the worst part. I want them both. And right now, I’m lying to both of them.
Malcolm is still catching his breath, his skin damp, chest rising in slow, heavy waves. His eyes flutter open when I reach out, wiping the sweat from his forehead, letting my knuckles graze along the edge of his face as my hand lowers.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods, a smile spreading. “Yeah. More than okay.”
I lean in and kiss him slowly. A quiet thank you spoken without words for the sacrifice he made for us.
“What you did tonight. Telling your family means so much to me,” I whisper against his mouth. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For coming here tonight. Comforting me. Giving us another chance. I know we still have a lot to work through. To say. But I'm so happy.”
I roll onto my back, holding my arm out, and Malcolm moves on instinct, curling into my side, resting his head on my chest.
My hand moves in slow circles across Malcolm’s back, soothing him and myself. “I told you I'd be there for you. Always. I just couldn't hide any longer. It wasn't healthy for us. For our relationship.”
We lay like that for a while, tangled together, heartbeats slowly easing into a peaceful rhythm.
Eventually, Malcolm's breathing evens out, deep and soft, his body fully relaxed in my arms. Exhaustion from not only our sex play but from the events of the night washing over him.
I stay awake a little longer, watching him sleep, my hand never stopping its slow movements along his back.
With a final kiss to the top of Malcolm’s head, I close my eyes and let sleep take me over. Tomorrow I will tell him about Bradley, shattering all that was repaired tonight.