“Fuck.” Wyatt leaned over the bathroom sink, fingers gripping the smooth marble as he thrusted his cock into his clenched fist.
“But you weren’t a good boy this morning, were you, baby?” John growled, bolstered by Wyatt’s reactions to him.
“No…”
“You left to move fucking boxes.”
“…so… fucking… stupid,” Wyatt groaned, pumping himself, back arching.
“You’re not stupid, Lawson,” John said, shifting into his Dr. Donnelly tone. “You made a mistake, we all do. This feeling is a teachable moment. Remember this for next time, so you know not to leave when you’re wanted.”
Wyatt’s panted, whispered moan rasped through the phone speakers. He was attempting to muffle the sounds he was making for John, and something about that fact aroused him even more.
“You wanted me to stay?” Wyatt’s eyes flickered to his.
Impaled by his gaze, John realized that this wasn’t part of the dirty talk. Something was telling him that a small part of himself, the sensitive one he had locked down years ago, was demanding to be heard—to speak.
“Always,” John admitted in a rush, cheeks burning from the furious blush staining his cheeks, but he didn’t want to stop and think about how wrong that had been. How vulnerable. His hand matched Wyatt’s pace, mimicking the hardstroking. His thighs and cheeks clenched, feeling the build between his legs and the tightening around his balls.
“Me too,” Wyatt replied, his tip leaking over himself. “I want you so fuckin’ bad it hurts.”
John’s heart fluttered like a storm of butterflies through his entire body. His legs widened, body throbbing with pleasure, and something else—something primal, something carnal. “If I were there… I’d be fucking you. God, I wanna fuck you…”
“Yes.”
“I’d bend you over that sink and fuck you so hard that you wouldn’t be able to bend over without feeling me still inside you.”
Wyatt shuddered, his back muscles trembling, gripping his dick. “Yes… fuck yes, daddy.”
The word ripped through every muscle in his body, and John’s cock nearly spurted too soon.
Daddy!
Fuck, it felt so wrong and yet so goddamned good.
Oh, sweet fuck.
“But I wouldn’t give you the pleasure of coming in your ass…” John growled, dragging his hand over himself, barely hanging on. “You’d be on your knees, my cock muffling your moans as I came down your throat.”
Wyatt bucked, jerked, and climaxed. His hips arched upward as cum coated his fist and sprayed messily all over Reyes’s bathroom sink. His cowboy was panting and cursing, and John hummed, riding his hand, feeling his tip beginning to pulsate with a tingling rush.
Wyatt’s eyes were riveted to the screen, lips parted and chest heaving with breath, watching.
“Wyatt…” John’s throat worked to swallow, the air constricting in his chest as he was on the verge of climax.
“Say it again,” Wyatt said softly, voice strained with something vulnerable.
His orgasm came swiftly and punishingly, unleashing a torrent of hard waves of spine-tingling sensation. “Wyatt…!” He yelled, his tip erupting with such power that his body spasmed.
“That’s it,” Wyatt cooed darkly. “Say my name when you come for me, daddy.”
He cursed, shivers racing all over his flesh at the ‘daddy’ title, and waited for the shame to override his common fucking sense. And yet, it didn’t. He didn’t want to shame himself for enjoying how much he liked hearing Wyatt call him that.
“Jesus, you’re so sexy,” Wyatt murmured. “If I were there, I’d lick up the mess you just made screaming my name.”
He smiled bashfully, scrubbing his clean hand over his face beneath his glasses and sighing.
“You’re coming with me tonight to this art show, then we’re going back to your place to finish this,” Wyatt said firmly.
