“Better than,” I promised.
“With Lincoln?”
“It will be.”
Marshall helped me to my feet and pulled me against his chest. His hands slid around my waist and down, cupping my ass as he pressed our mouths together. He kissed me urgently but quickly, then shoved me away with a low growl.
“I’ll have my way with you later,” he warned, giving a slow, overhanded stroke to his already thickening cock.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Get me some clothes.”
I nodded and turned for the dresser, but no sooner had I got the drawer open than he was on me, hand reaching wildly into my pants and between my legs. Marshall grabbed my balls, kneading them almost too aggressively in his hand. I gasped, grabbing the dresser for support while he had his way with me, which apparently ended when I began to pant and beg him for more.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, nipping at my earlobe before reaching around and taking the clothes out of my hand. I was half-dazed with pleasure while he dressed himself behind me, looking smug and self-satisfied with the problem he’d created between my legs.
“I want you to take your phone into the bathroom, Silas, and I want you to record yourself jerking off,” he said.
“Sorry. What?”
“Is recording a limit?”
I shook my head to clear it, the chain of events giving me whiplash. “No, Sir.”
“Take your phone and record yourself jerking off,” he repeated. “You can’t take that erection and those basketball shorts back out to your best friend.”
We both knew it wouldn’t have been the first time Lincoln saw my erect cock, even if he had no interest in it, but getting myself off didn’t sound like a horrible idea so I wasn’t about to bring it up.
“Yes, Sir,” I rasped.
Marshall gave me a slow and lingering look, then nodded his chin toward the bed. I scampered over there for my phone and took it into the bathroom.
The hardest part was finding a good angle, a comfortable position. In the end, I propped it up against the wall and sank down to my knees in front of it. Spitting in my palm, it didn’t take more than five minutes for me to make myself come. The orgasm was lacking because I was alone, but it did enough to relieve the pressure in my balls that I’d be able to get through the rest of the night without poking Lincoln’s back with it. I licked my hand clean and thanked Marshall before ending the video, then I washed my hands and left my phone on the bed before returning to the living room.
I found Marshall and Lincoln there, the former on the brand new coffee table and the latter on the couch. Marshall was leaned in, Lincoln’s hands held in his as he said something that obviously wasn’t meant for my ears. Lincoln nodded, sniffling, and behind them I cleared my throat. Lincoln startled, but Marshall—as always—held steady, keeping his body language the same but shooting a look in my direction.
“Are you sorted?” he asked.
I nodded.
He looked at Lincoln. “Areyousorted?”
Lincoln nodded.
“Alright then.” He gave Lincoln’s hands a squeeze, then angled his head toward the kitchen and asked, “Who wants some wine?”
CHAPTER 42
MARSHALL
By the time Friday rolled around, Silas was nothing except nerves and skin. He already knew Smith from school, and they’d met as adults, but the twins were a mystery to him. Even though I assured him they were harmless, he didn’t believe me, and he’d wound himself up into a knot of anxiety by lunchtime. I told him to come home after work, that we would ride to dinner together, which we would. But I needed to step up and bring him back under control before then.
I got back to the house before him, stripping out of my work clothes and waiting for him in the guest bathroom.
“Hi,” he said nervously, stripping out of his clothes and kicking them into the corner. “Did you want to watch or help?”
I exhaled a laugh, the corner of my lip twitching into a sly smile.
