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“Your mouth feels amazing,” Jackson said. He sifted his fingers through Wyatt’s curls in a relaxing, petting way. “So hot and tight, just like your ass must be.”
Wyatt moaned, his hole clenching, and he resisted the very real urge to take his pants off again so he could finger himself. Put on a show for Jackson. His dick started getting back into things—sometimes being twenty years old was truly awesome—and pressed against the zipper of his jeans.
“Fuck, you feel good.” Jackson thrust.
His dick hit the back of Wyatt’s throat too hard, and Wyatt pulled off, gasping and swallowing so he didn’t do something embarrassing. The instant he regained control of his gag reflex, he took Jackson’s cock back into his mouth, because he hadn’t been told to stop. Drool coated his chin and he didn’t care. All he could think about was pleasing Jackson and doing what he said. He trusted the man never to ask for something Wyatt could not or would not do.
Jackson continued to pet him, fingers stroking through his hair and occasionally across his temples or cheekbones. The simple touches expressed his pleasure at what Wyatt was doing, and it fueled Wyatt’s need to do better. To be the best for this man, whatever that meant.
“So pretty,” Jackson said. “Your lips are almost as red as your hair.”
Wyatt wanted to thank him for the compliment, but his mouth was otherwise occupied, so he showed his appreciation by rubbing his tongue on the underside of Jackson’s cock. Jackson inhaled sharply, his hand a new, wonderful weight on Wyatt’s neck that stilled him. Wyatt’s senses were full of the smell and taste of Jackson and he wanted more. Wanted Jackson to come down his throat. He also wanted to be told what to do, and those two things warred in his head.
It was why Wyatt balanced on one hand and sneaked a finger up to rub behind Jackson’s balls. He didn’t have much room to work because of the way Jackson was sitting down, but he managed and got a delightful moan out of Jackson.
“Keep acting out like this and you’ll get another spanking,” Jackson said.
Wyatt hummed around his mouthful of cock. Dude needed to work on his threats.
Both of Jackson’s hands rested on the back of his head. “I’m gonna stand up now. Don’t bite.” Wyatt made an agreeable noise, so Jackson bent his legs and began to stand. The motions were so fluid Wyatt had no trouble extending his neck and repositioning his knees so he could keep his mouth around Jackson’s dick. “You remember your safe word?”
Jackson pulled his head back and off his cock so Wyatt could answer. “Yes.”
“I won’t choke you, but if you can’t say the word and need to, then pinch me hard on the thigh. It’ll get my attention.” He caressed Wyatt’s cheek with one finger in an affectionate gesture that made Wyatt want to purr, before returning that hand to the back of his neck.
Wyatt opened his mouth and waited.
Jackson was all kinds of turned on by the easy way Wyatt was submitting to him. Wyatt wanted to be told what to do, to be given direction, and as much as it appealed to Jackson, it also worried him. The kid was out here searching for his father, and Jackson wasn’t sure having a “daddy” ordering him around was what Wyatt really needed.
He’d think harder on that another time. Right now, he wanted to come down Wyatt’s throat.
He slid his cock back into Wyatt’s open mouth, loving the way Wyatt instinctively guarded his teeth with his lips. Jackson didn’t have to hold Wyatt’s head hard; he seemed to enjoy getting his face fucked and relaxed his throat muscles to accommodate Jackson’s girth. Jackson went slow, enjoying the way Wyatt’s cheeks puffed out and his throat worked each time Jackson pushed inside. Wyatt’s eyes gleamed as he stared up at Jackson, taking his own pleasure while giving Jackson his in return.
The moment seemed to stretch out like pulled taffy, on and on, as Jackson sought his climax. His balls tightened and pure delight sizzled down his spine, and it took all his willpower to restrain himself when instinct said to drive into Wyatt’s throat. But he refused to choke or scare the gorgeous young man giving him this gift. Submitting so beautifully to everything Jackson asked.
He wiped a stream of drool from Wyatt’s cheek and smiled down at his boy. While Wyatt seemed willing to submit during sex, nothing about the obstinate younger man was submissive outside the bedroom. At work he was determined to prove himself, no matter how many scrapes and bruises he accumulated along the way, and Jackson admired that.
He also wanted to wrap Wyatt up in bubble wrap so he didn’t hurt himself. To keep him safe from all enemies, especially ones who’d take advantage of him. He’d hurt anyone who tried taking advantage of Wyatt the way Jackson had been taken advantage of at the same age.
Jackson stroked one hand through Wyatt’s soft, tangled curls, beating back a new wave of anger toward the men from last weekend. Over the thought of Wyatt being hurt like that, and he thrust a bit too hard. Wyatt choked, his eyes widening, and Jackson immediately pulled out of his mouth.
Wyatt held his gaze for several long seconds, then sucked Jackson back in. Jackson moaned and lost himself as Wyatt took over the blow job, sucking and licking and seducing with lips, tongue, and a little bit of teeth. Urging Jackson closer and closer to orgasm with every touch and stroke. And for as much as he loved everything about this, Jackson needed to come. He closed his eyes and existed in the moment and in Wyatt’s very talented mouth. He shouted a warning once and then was coming hard. Hard enough that he doubled over and had to grab Wyatt’s shoulders for support, while Wyatt milked him dry.
Once he got his sense back, Jackson dropped to his knees and captured Wyatt’s mouth in a claiming kiss, licking inside to taste his own come combined with the essence of Wyatt himself—and he liked it. A lot. They kissed for a long time, fingers tangling in hair, chests pressed together, their breaths becoming one and the same.
It was perfect.
And terrifying.
Jackson tucked himself back into his pants, then pulled Wyatt to his feet and dragged him to the bed. Smothered him into the mattress so they could kiss more. As they kissed and rolled around, clothing came off until they were both naked beneath the covers. Jackson was half-hard again, and Wyatt was fully erect, but neither of them seemed to care all that much. It wasn’t about the orgasm now; it was about the experience.
It was about their bodies and minds and existing together until exhausted.
Jackson woke at some point during the night because he needed to pee. Wyatt was curled up close to him, but not draped over in such a way that he couldn’t slide out of bed and into the bathroom. After doing his business, he studied his reflection in the bathroom’s yellowish light. For the first time, he didn’t see exhaustion, confusion, or loneliness. All he saw was a well-fucked, tired guy who actually liked where he was.
Physically, emotionally, and spiritually, Jackson was content with his life. Romantically, would he like a long-term partner? Probably yes. Almost definitely yes. Was Wyatt that person? Unlikely. But as he watched the hot redhead sleeping in a sliver of light from the bathroom, Jackson liked the idea of exploring this thing between them. And of exploring the body in his bed for as long as Wyatt wanted to be with him.
Jackson returned to bed, and he loved the way Wyatt scooted closer to him without waking up. He inhaled Wyatt’s scent and twirled one finger in his hair, way too happy and confused by it all. Joy was a foreign concept for him. Loneliness and confusion were far more familiar.
