This went on for several panting moments, finger digging into his neck and cock, John’s intent gaze on him, watching it all.
“Do you know how sexy you are right now?” John growled. “Dressed like this? Looking like a fuckin’ dream—my dream. God, I want to fuck you, baby…”
Wyatt’s legs buckled beneath him, pressing himself against the door to keep himself upright, feeling the sweeping crash of the orgasm build to the tip of his dick.
“I’m gonna…” he whispered frantically.
“Cum in your pants,” John commanded. “I want you to feel this. Feel us smeared on your dick all fuckin’ night.”
Oh Jesus.
He erupted, spewing hot, endless streams of cum into his pants and against John’s fist. And John continued to milk his pulsating cock without mercy. “Good boy…”
Wyatt’s entire body seized, another wave crashing over him at the feel of John’s collaring grip.
“That’s it,” John panted. “Keep coming, baby.”
Wyatt emptied himself until there was nothing left, collapsing into John, chest heaving for oxygen. John pushed him back against the door, forcing him to watch as he dragged his hand out of his pants.
“Open your mouth,” he commanded.
“Ah fuck,” Wyatt gasped, lips parting instantly.
“So eager,” John murmured, smearing his cum over his lips and tongue. Something dark and haunting slid over John’s expression, and he kissed him, sliding his tongue into his mouth and tasting him. “You make me want to do the craziest things…” John confessed.
Wyatt smiled, blissed out of his mind and still trying to catch his breath.
“Unbutton your shirt.”
Curious and with trembling fingers, he unbuttoned his black flannel, revealing the black undershirt beneath. John wiped the rest of Lawson’s climax off his hand and onto the shirt, staining it.
He almost laughed until John's hand proceeded to roughly push upward, palming his pec and pinching the nipple above the shirt. His desire was evident through his possessive touch. He then buttoned Wyatt’s jeans and clasped his belt, paralyzing him. John was in full control, touching where he wanted, takingwhat he wanted. Wyatt had given him permission to be selfish, and John's transformation was fucking incredible.
“I like you like this, too,” Wyatt admitted in a rush.
John’s dark eyes slid to his.
“Taking control,” Wyatt said, relaxing against the door and eyeing the bulge pressed against John’s pants. “Using me however you like. The number of times I’ve imagined you just like this… Dr. Donnelly making me cum in my pants before he bent me over and fucked me raw.”
It was John’s turn to gasp.
“Collaring me with those big fuckin’ hands, riding me until there’s nothing left,” Wyatt whispered. “I want you unhinged. Wild. I want that storm inside you to break me the fuck apart.”
John dropped his forehead into his temple, sucking in a hard breath. “Jesus Christ, Wyatt…”
“We can save all that for later…” Wyatt nipped at his jawline and pushed him backward, sliding off the door, heart fucking glowing. “You have a turkey to cook.”
Chapter 20
John
An easy, impossible lightness settled around him like a halo as he kissed his sleeping nephew’s forehead in the car seat. Justine handed him Olivia next, and he buckled her into her toddler car seat as she drifted in and out, her yellow queen dress rumpled from play and her tiara tangled in her hair.
“See ya later, sweetheart,” he murmured to her, kissing her temple. “I love you.”
“I love you too…” she yawned, “Uncle…”
He smiled, closing the car door quietly.
