Good, because I don’t want him hating sex with me.
I want him craving it.
“Jacket off.” I hold out my hand for it and he passes it over. I toss it onto the desk, add mine to it, and twirl a finger in Liam’s direction. “Pants down, bend over, brace your arms on the back of the couch.
He gets into position while I unzip and wrap myself. I add more lube, because I’m not a psychopath, and stand between his legs.
“I want you looking into each other’s eyes,” I say. “No kissing, and no talking between you.” I grab Ward’s hips and slam home my cock home, making him softly grunt. I see the way Liam’s body tenses but he remains silent and in position.
At this point, it’s mostly angry fucking, for me. I don’t want to come too fast, but I literally cannot fuck around in here all day. I have a lot of catching up still, and meetings this afternoon. I pause and reach around Ward to find he’s hard. “Good boy. You can come.”
I jerk him off hard and fast and it doesn’t take me long to get him over. It splatters all over the plastic bag and I watch how his fingers tighten around the back of the couch, digging in as he struggles to stay silent.
I’m looking Liam in the eyes as I start fucking Ward again, until I finally feel my balls tighten and vengeful pleasure spikes through my system.
Because of the condom I pull out quickly and use a wipe to remove it, tossing it onto the garbage bag, too. I wipe my hands with another one, and then tuck myself in and grab my jacket, pulling it on.
I hand Ward a wipe to clean himself up and once he’s tucked in, I pull him into my arms and kiss him, hard, until his brain turns off and I feel subspace beckoning him under.
Good.
Grabbing his chin, I look into his eyes. “Who owns you?”
“Sir owns me,” he replies.
“Good boy. Grab your coat and go back to work. Text me your address. I’ll be there at eight, and I want baked salmon for dinner.”
“Yes, Sir.” I send him out and lock the door behind him.
Then I turn. Liam looks damned ridiculous sitting there like that, but at least he doesn’t have to change his clothes.
I take the hideaway key off my keyring and leave it on the desk, along with his burner. “Like I said, you two can talk about whatever you want in text or in e-mail.” I cross my hands over my chest. “Any questions?”
“No,” he quietly says. There’s defeat in his gaze and then I realize what he’s looking at.
My right wrist, which is currently bare.
I deliberately wore a shirt with buttons on the cuffs today, so I wouldn’t need cufflinks.
Because every last damn pair of cufflinks I have are also day collars.
The prickle of tears catches me off-guard and I immediately start moving so he doesn’t see. “Lock the supplies in the desk. You should clean up and get back to work. I want a spare key to the door, and to the desk, by tonight.”
I’m reaching for the doorknob when I hear the plastic rattle as he moves and he speaks. “I love you.”
It’s only through sheer force of will I don’t start crying. “Yeah. I saw how you love me. Couch for you tonight. Don’t wait up for me, either.” I quickly slip out and head for my building.
I’ll lock myself in a bathroom there to have my cry.
* * * *
I don’t even knock on Ward’s front door, because he must have been watching for me when I arrive in an Uber. He’s already opening the door for me as I stride up the walk, trying to look like a man on a mission. Not that I think anyone’s paying attention to me, but just in case they are, I can tell them the purpose of my visit was work-related.
He locks the door behind me, takes my coat and hangs it up, and sets my laptop case on a bench next to the door. Then when I turn, he’s already moving before I make the gesture for him to drop to the floor.
My heart gives another uncomfortable heave in my chest. “Good boy.” I stand there with him, his head in my hands and massaging his scalp as he rests his head against my thighs.
That’s when I finally process the house smells delicious. “Dinner ready?”
