“Ollie,” I moan because I’m a glutton for punishment.
He slams into me with the kind of force that steals my breath. I love it. He resumes the previous pace.
“Wrong fucking answer, sweetheart. Don’t play with me. We both know I can do this all day.”
The muted moans he emits every time he enters me drive me fucking crazy.
“What’s my name?”
“Jason,” I fold. I need him to give me what I crave.
“Very good.”
I buck my hips when he doesn’t immediately speed.
“Behave. You get what I give you,’ he rasps near my ear. “What will you call me from now on?”
“Jason.”
He increases his intensity just a little, still not taking me where I need to be.
“What did you say?”
“Jason,” I moan a little louder.
“I can’t fucking hear you.”
“Jason!” Part of my scream is eaten by the pillow.
“Love how fast you learn.”
Jason delivers the type of friction I want for three, maybe four strokes, before he pulls out.
“On your back and lose the fucking shirt.”
I comply quickly and without question. I whimper when Jason enters me just the way I like. He’s back to giving me his usual brand of pleasure. I hungrily accept his kiss, he smells like shampoo and tastes like mint.
How long was I asleep?
The paranoid part of me looks at the door to ensure it’s closed. I practically yelp when he bites my nipple.
“I thought we talked about you being quiet,” he grunts.
“You bit me.”
The moonlight plays off Jason’s face, and I’m able to see all the desire on his face.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
The question is rhetorical. Jason’s palm covers my mouth as he fucks me until I’m practically slobbering on his hand.
There’s something potent about the way he moans when I cum this time. It’s as if he wanted my orgasm more than usual, like pleasing me is the most important thing to him.
As we lay there satiated and drifting off to sleep, I know that although I didn’t mean to, I’ve bonded with him.
18
Jason
