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“Christ,” Jesse growled as he tried to move and couldn’t. “If we’re gonna fuck, let’s just fuck already.”
“I thought you were enjoying our little game,” Emory murmured against his skin, grasping Jesse’s wrist. Jesse swallowed a groan as Emory drew his arm over his head and pinned it to the sofa arm. He loomed over him, unfastened his tie and ran his tongue down Jesse’s throat to his collarbone. “You taste so good,” he whispered against Jesse’s skin.
“Like lunch, you mean?” Jesse said between clenched teeth, fighting the rising tide of arousal and losing.
“Humans smell and taste like life itself,” Emory breathed. “But you in particular, Jesse Truelove…”
“What?” Jesse grated, straining against the strong hold, excitement fizzing over his skin like a shower of champagne. “Big Mac and fries? What?”
“Mmm,” Emory purred, pushing back his jacket and shirt and mouthing the joint between his neck and shoulder. “You taste like Paris in the summertime, warm stone, spilled wine in the sun.”
“Fuck,” Jesse swore again as Emory dragged his teeth across his skin. “Why are you doing this?” he rasped. “Do you even get off this way?”
“Of course we do,” the baron said, running his hand from Jesse’s hip to his abdomen. “We’re red-blooded, breathing creatures, just like you. And you are a very hard man to resist.”
Jesse threw his head back as Emory grazed his nipple bar through his shirt. “Guessing the age gap doesn’t bother you…”
“Not if it doesn’t bother you,” Emory said, lifting his head and looking into his face, suddenly serious. His lips were parted and wet, but his cheeks were cool, pale. Jesse swallowed.
“I don’t know,” Jesse whispered, awkwardness clenching his chest. “Are you even turned on right now?”
A slow half-smile. “It takes us longer to get there, but it’s more intense when we do.”
“Jesus…”
“Shall I show you?”
Jesse nodded frantically. “Yes, fuck. Whatever you want. Just please, God…” He grabbed Emory’s hand and thrust it toward his crotch. But Emory chuckled, reversed the hold and pinned Jesse’s wrist above his head with the other.
“Not yet,” he whispered in his ear, taking both Jesse’s wrists on one hand and trailing a finger down his jaw. “You have to earn that, remember?”
Jesse made a noise, closing his eyes and lifting his spine. But Emory tightened his hold. Jesse gasped at the power in his grip. Emory brushed his hot mouth down Jesse’s face and neck as he pulled off Jesse’s tie then unbuttoned his shirt.
“And so, we return to this interesting adornment,” he breathed against Jesse’s neck as he slipped his hand into Jesse’s clothing and tweaked the nipple bar. Jesse jerked and groaned. “Interesting,” Emory said, raking his fingernails down Jesse’s chest, not hard enough to break skin but enough to stripe fire into his flesh.
“Sweet Mary and Joseph.”
“Not people I’m intimately acquainted with,” Emory went on, brushing Jesse’s shirt aside to reveal his tattooed chest and quivering abdomen. “Though I’m happy to make you call their names a few more times before this is done.” He lowered his head and took Jesse’s pierced nipple into his mouth.
“Christ,” Jesse cursed and blinked blindly at the ceiling.
“Him, too,” Emory murmured against his skin. “Maybe his father by the end?”
Emory ran his free hand up Jesse’s leg, skirting around his throbbing cock, and undid his belt buckle. “I’m going to take these off,” he whispered, looking up at Jesse through his thick eyelashes. “But you are not to touch yourself, not until I say. Understand?”
Jesse nodded, the sight of Emory hovering over his groin almost too much to bear.
“You have to say it, Jesse.”
“Christ, yes, fuck, whatever. Just please—”
“And you must be quiet,” Emory said, holding himself very still. “Remember, young Tom is just a few rooms away. We wouldn’t want to upset him.”
“Tom isn’t arsed about me.”
“Oh, he is,” Emory whispered. “I can smell his interest in him. He wants to like you—and he’s almost there. So, you must be quiet.”
Jesse clenched his jaw. Emory locked gazes with him and slowly released his wrists. Jesse didn’t move.
