Page 17 of Checking Out the Librarian

He felt the glide of the ironed fabric on his legs, smelled Jonathan’s yummy lemon dessert-scented hair, heard the hitch in his own breathing as Jonathan slid down Connor’s body, fully clothed but with his graceful arms lifted over his head, trailing behind the pressing weight of his chest as he sunk downwards.

Sunk towards Connor’s cock. Slunk. Slinky. No brain thoughts. Just Jonathan thoughts.

He could feel the stretchy fabric that separated him from Jonathan growing damp. Jonathan must know it, too.

Jonathan sucked and licked the skin over his ribs, his arms like beams rising across Connor’s chest and his fingers pressed into the base of Connor’s throat. He used his weight, nothing Connor couldn’t lift, to pin Connor’s pelvis to the door.

If Connor spread his legs wider, he could trap Jonathan. He could catch Jonathan’s body between his thighs and hold him in place, thrust his hands into Jonathan’s hair, take everything that right now Jonathan limited him to receiving.

He could take. Touch. Taste.

He didn’t have to stand here.

He wanted to stand here.

Jonathan kept sinking, and his hands left Connor’s throat and trailed to his nipples, then lower, low enough to toy with the waistband of Connor’s briefs, a good thing rapidly becoming a thing so great that his briefs were strangling him and needed to come off.

Jonathan wasn’t doing that. Instead, he sucked at a spot low enough on Connor’s stomach that when his hips thrust, his cock nestled in the curve of Jonathan’s throat, but with the fabric barrier still between them.

He needed to be out of his clothes because then maybe Jonathan would suck him and that was going to be it, one minute, not even one minute with this man’s mouth, and he’d be so gone.

Finally, he pulled the waistband away to suck a spot on Connor’s hip while he snaked a hand behind Connor to grip onto his ass. And his mouth, his teasing-everywhere mouth, was flirting with the inside of Connor’s thigh where his briefs had hiked up.

Connor spread his legs as far apart as his tangled pants allowed. He needed them gone. He needed to be naked so he could thrust against Jonathan and then maybe Jonathan would take his cock in that mouth.

Jonathan stood again, and Connor groaned. No cocksucking.

But Jonathan finally slid the briefs down Connor’s thighs and drifted his fingers across the aching length of his cock, and that was so intense that Connor couldn’t repress a shudder.

From just Jonathan’s touch on his shaft.

His hips knew what they wanted, and thrust into the space between their bodies, seeking more. The rest of Connor didn’t move from the door.

“Mmm.” Jonathan made a sound similar to the ones he’d made at dinner, maybe coming from deeper in his chest, and Connor understood that he was enjoying playing with Connor.

Good, because Connor was super-fucking enjoying being played with.

Then Jonathan’s thumb crossed the tip of Connor’s cock, found the precum there, and spread it. Recrossed. Circled.

This time, Connor’s whole body quivered, but he didn’t lift his hands. He would be Jonathan’s toy, as Jonathan wished.

Jonathan abandoned the game.

When Jonathan had put two steps between them, and Connor knew it wasn’t repositioning, it was leaving, he heard himself whine. He was a breath away from begging, even though he suspected that wouldn’t make this man give him anything, would probably make him take longer.

He squeezed his eyes closed.

“Connor.”

Connor’s eyes flew open.

“Watch.”

Jonathan touched himself over his clothing.

Holy fuck.

Connor imagined it was him tracing the path of the buttons on that black shirt, his hand spreading across the concealing fabric, his palm stroking down the bulge in the front of the white pants.