He nodded like it was an order.
I stayed standing in the hallway while Lincoln marched himself down the hallway and into my primary bathroom. He fought through the plastic wrapper—if the noises filtering down the hallway were any indication—then shuffled his way back to me, shoving his hair out of his face.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked.
“I don’t want you to let me fuck this up,” he said, blinking hard before looking up at me with watery eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you to let me fuck this up,” he repeated. “I am going to sabotage this somehow, and you’re a really good man, Hunter. You’re a good man for me, and I don’t want to ruin it. But I know I will.”
“I disagree.”
“You’ll see.”
I shook my head, reaching for him. I hooked a finger through the cut-out hole in his shirt and pulled him close. He went right into my arms, pressing his forehead against my chest and sliding his arms around my waist. Lincoln felt impossibly small like this, and every protective instinct I had swelled to life right there in the space between us.
“I love you,” I reminded him, kissing his hair. “I will not let you fuck this up.”
“What if I ask for too much?” he muttered into my shirt. “What if I don’t give enough in return.”
Sighing, I slid my hands down his back, let them graze across the top of his ass before falling away.
“Get on your knees, Lincoln.”
He complied with a practiced and comfortable grace.
“Hands behind your back.”
He twined his fingers together at the small of his back, arms straight and his chest puffed out. Beneath his shirt, I could see his nipples were hard, so I shoved the shirt out of the way to reach one of his piercings. Tweaking the barbell between my fingers, I smiled when he grunted in pain but didn’t pull away.
It took one hand to get my belt undone, to pull down my fly, to drag my half-hard cock out from behind the confines of my briefs. I fed my length into his waiting mouth, pushing until his nose was buried against my skin. Lincoln gagged around me a little, the muscles of his throat flexing against the tip of my cock.
“What could you give me that’s better than this?” I asked him honestly, threading my fingers into his hair and tilting my own head back.
Lincoln’s mouth was wet and hot and tight, and his tongue against the underside of my shaft was heaven on earth. The longer I was in his mouth, the harder I got, the more he choked around me, the more he refused to give up.
“You let me wake you up to fuck in the middle of the night,” I reminded him. “You send me videos that make me hard all fucking day.”
His lashes fluttered and he moaned, swallowing around me. Precum pulsed out of my slit and painted the back of his tongue.
Lincoln whimpered.
In our time together, I’d learned a handful of things about Lincoln Summers. The most pressing being he didn’t feel important and he didn’t feel seen. That was why I’d obliged him so quickly with the free use after the night he mentioned it. I needed him to know I saw him for who he was. That I loved him for who he was. And if he thought there was any chance in hell I was going to let his insecurities ruin this for me, he had another think coming.
“Tomorrow when I’m at work, I want you to film something for me. Can you do that?”
He nodded, spit streaming down his chin.
My cock throbbed.
“I want you to DP yourself, sweetheart.”
Lincoln’s eyes rolled back, and he gagged again around my cock, which I was certain had never been harder in my life.
“If you can’t do it yourself with two toys, I want you to use the biggest one that fits. Can you do that for me?”
He nodded again, entire body trembling.
