“What do you want?” I ask softly.
“I want you to fuck me.”
34
DREW
Iwant you to fuck me.
Never have those words sounded better than they do coming from Jackson Monroe’s lips. My cock jumps at the words. The movement is so pronounced that Jackson’s eyes track it, and a startled laugh escapes him.
“Did your dick just…”
“It has a mind of its own around you,” I admit, heat creeping up my neck.
Jackson blushes too, the color spreading down his chest in a way that has me wanting to map it with my tongue. He shifts his weight, and I catch the nervous energy radiating off him.
“I’ve never…” He swallows hard. “With a guy, I mean. But I—” He looks away, then back at me with determination. “A few weeks ago, I tried. With my fingers. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how it would feel with your…” His eyes drop to my cock again. “Inside me.”
The image slams into me—Jackson alone in his room, fingers working inside himself, thinking about me. I surge to my feet, crowding him against the dresser.
“You fingered yourself thinking about my cock?” I growl.
He nods, pupils blown wide. “I came so hard, I saw stars.”
That’s it. That’s all I can take. I grab his hips and walk him backward until the backs of his knees hit my bed. With one gentle push, he tumbles onto the mattress, staring up at me with a mix of anticipation and nerves that makes my protective instincts roar to life.
“We’re going slow,” I tell him, already moving to my nightstand. “This is your first time, and I’m going to make it good for you, Jacky.”
I pull out the lube—thank God for my optimistic shopping habits—and a condom, setting them on the bed where he can see them. No surprises. No rushing.
Jackson props himself up on his elbows, watching me with those impossibly brown eyes. “I trust you.”
Three words. Three simple words that hit me in the heart. I lean down to kiss him, slow and deep, trying to pour everything I feel into it. When I pull back, we’re both breathing hard.
“On your back,” I murmur against his lips. “Get comfortable.”
He scoots up the bed, arranging himself against my pillows. The dried paint on his skin cracks and flakes with every movement, but neither of us cares. I grab a towel from my hamper—it’s already dirty anyway—and climb onto the bed between his legs.
“Just relax,” I tell him, uncapping the lube. The click makes him jump slightly. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”
I warm the lube between my fingers, taking my time. Jackson’s watching every movement, his cock already showing interest again despite his recent orgasm.
“Spread your legs a little more,” I coax, and he does, revealing himself to me completely. The first touch of my slick finger to his hole makes him gasp, his whole body tensing. “Shh,” I soothe, using my free hand to stroke his thigh. “Breathe.I’m not going inside yet, just getting you used to being touched here.”
I circle his entrance slowly, the tight ring of muscle fluttering under my finger. Jackson starts making these tiny noises, trying to hold back but not quite managing it. His hands fist my sheets, and I watch his face carefully for any sign of discomfort.
“It feels kinda weird,” he admits, then quickly adds, “but good weird. Keep going.”
I add more lube, probably too much, but I’d rather overdo it than risk hurting him. When I finally press the tip of one finger inside, to the first knuckle. Jackson’s back arches off the bed.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasps.
“Too much?” I freeze, ready to pull out.
“No, no, it’s…” He looks almost surprised. “Different when it’s not my own fingers.”
I push in a little deeper, watching his face intently. His brow furrows in concentration, and I can see him actively trying to relax. “You’re doing great,” I tell him, working my finger deeper. “So tight, baby. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
