Page 22 of Love Language

Finally, he dragged it over his cock. Greg jerked up and then fell back.

Marco had intended to keep going with the glove, but he wanted too desperately to feel Greg’s body with his own hands.

He pulled it off and touched smooth, hot skin, loving how it was interrupted by the rough bands of rope. He loved the contrasts, how Greg’s muscular arms held just the slightest tension around the bonds, while his soft belly bulged between the carefully tied triangles.

Seeing him like this, completely under the spell of the ropes and at Marco’s mercy, was intoxicating.

He ran one hand lazily up Greg’s erection, enjoying the soft skin over the harder core.

Settling between Greg’s bound knees, so that he could take in both his handiwork and the reactions on Greg’s face, Marco began to play.

He used soft touches and rougher ones, dragging his nails down Greg’s thighs and then circling the tip of his cock with a feather-light touch. He bent down to taste, licking at his belly, then letting the scruff on his face brush Greg’s shaft.

Greg’s chest rose and fell rapidly, longing clear on his face. It wouldn’t take much to make him come. But he never struggled, never thrashed against the ropes.

He held tension in his body, anticipation, but also the infinite, relaxed patience of a sub who was exactly where he wanted to be.

Marco wanted to see him shatter.

After one more smooth pass down Greg’s body, he began licking at his cock, then sucking it hungrily.

Marco knew it wasn’t the perfect blowjob, but this was his own reward—the taste of Greg in his mouth, the expressions on Greg’s face.

He thrust his hand into his own jeans, past his packer, and rubbed hard. He was close to the edge himself, caught up in the rush of endorphins. It wouldn’t take much to tip him over.

He continued to suck, swirling his tongue around the tip and digging his fingernails into Greg’s thighs as Greg writhed, mouth open, holding nothing back.

And then Greg came in Marco’s mouth, a bitter rush of salt, and shudders that wracked his frame.

Marco stroked himself harder, a few more times, and came with that gorgeous cock in his mouth.

Marco sucked Greg until he was limp, and then just a little longer because he could, while Greg gazed at him with an ecstatic, pleading look in his eyes.

Because Greg was bound for him. Because Greg was his.

At least for the moment.

With gentle hands, he began removing the bonds, rubbing against where they’d pressed and enjoying the lasting grooves in Greg’s flesh. He hadn’t tied anything to chafe or bruise, and he almost regretted that all of this would fade within a few hours.

Greg was still floating when Marco slipped quickly away to the bathroom for a warm washcloth and then cleaned him up.

Marco hadn’t thought about what might happen after their scene, but Greg was drowsily compliant as Marco encouraged him to drink a glass of water, and then manhandled him toward the top of the bed so that he could pull the blankets down.

It seemed that he would have an overnight guest.

He never much cared whether hookups slept over—in his mind it didn’t mean anything beyond convenience—but he was glad that Greg would stay.

The sub was in a fragile place, and he’d just shared a lot with Marco. It made Marco feel protective and aroused his Daddy side.

He turned his bedside lamp to its dimmest setting so that Greg wouldn’t be disoriented later, and they could communicate in the night if need be. Then, he slipped into bed.

Pulling Greg into his arms, he breathed in his clean, sweaty smell. He placed a small kiss on his shoulder, just feeling close to him and following his instincts.

Then, he dropped off to sleep.

He felt Greg stir later, sometime in the gray early hours of dawn. He pulled him closer.

Bathroom, Greg signed.