Jett’s hand trembled when he picked up the lube. “You’re going to fucking kill me. The things you say drive me insane.”
Harrison hummed and relaxed. He was still uncomfortably hard in his pants, but he was determined to ignore it. He was having too much fun teasing his pretty boyfriend—no need to escalate things just yet.
Jett’s movements were practiced as he slipped his lubed fingers between his cheeks and teased his hole. His intake of breath had Harrison clenching his hands, fingers curling in the fabric of his slacks.
He wasn’t the only impatient one in the room because Jett pushed a finger inside, moving it in and out before pausing to add another fingeralongside the first. He slid them in and pulled them back, repeating the motion until they were as deep as they could go.
“Harrison, I—”
“No.” Harrison folded his arms, mostly to keep himself from tackling Jett to the bed. “You can do better than that.”
The needy whine that left Jett’s throat had goosebumps erupting on his skin. The movement from his hand turned rougher, and the sound of his breathy moans began to fill the room.
“So fucking perfect for me, Fraser.”
Jett curled his fingers, gasping when he hit the perfect angle.
“Fucking perfect.”
Jett
Jett was pretty sure this was how he was going to die. The coroner would walk into the room and see him lying on the bed with three fingers stuck in his ass because his heart gave out mid-prep.
This wasn’t something he’d ever done before, not with a guy watching. He should have at least been embarrassed, but every time he glanced behind and saw those hungry blue eyes locked on him, heat sizzled through his veins.
He stretched his fingers apart, working in earnest to loosen up so he could get Harrison’s cock inside of him as fast as possible. Jett was trying to keep his movements mechanical, but he was so turned on that any tiny brush against his prostate nearly had him coming.
“Curl your fingers,” Harrison ordered.
Jett whimpered, resisting the urge to clamp his thighs together. He didn’t want to do it—he wanted to come on Harrison’s cock, not his fingers.
“Jett.”
Jett shoved his face into the thick comforter and did what he was told. The second his fingers touched that spot, the burn of pleasure left him gasping for oxygen.
“Again.”
Again.
“Spread your thighs.”
He spread his thighs.
“Add more lube. Push four fingers in.”
He added more lube and pushed four fingers inside, tears gathering in his eyes at how good the stretch felt.
“Fuck yourself like that. Don’t come until I tell you.”
Jett’s chest was heaving, and his shoulder was burning from fatigue, but fuck he wanted this. He needed Harrison to take control of him until he was no longer a person, just motion with a driven purpose.
The wet sounds of his fingers fucking into him were almost drowned out by his loud moans and cries when he hit a particularly nice angle. He had been on the edge this entire time, but he wanted to be good; he wanted to follow orders so Harrison would reward him.
Toes curling, lungs aching and skin sweating, Jett held himself back from the edge by sheer willpower alone. His mind went quiet, leaving him suspended in a sense of euphoria that left him breathless.
“Good boy.”
Hands gripped his waist, heat searing into his skin.
