Gage
It wasa damn good thing I was good at being organized, because I’d let Noah’s study habits slide way too much this year. Understandable, maybe, what with us getting settled into college life and having a shitload of fun here on campus—and I’m talking even before he’d put that collar on for me—but it was time to fix that shit. The thing was, now that I was actually going through his course requirements with an eye to impressing his parentals with an academic turnaround? Figuring out how to help him catch up was… a lot. So much that it might actually require me to withhold my cock a bit to get him to focus.
I pushed away from my desk and glanced at the clock, then groaned... and not in the hot way that Noah had been inspiring lately whenever he turned those big brown eyes on me with the “please feed me your cum, Daddy” look of his that he’d perfected over the last week.
Noah should be back from his study group in just a few minutes—something he’d texted me about as ordered when he’d left the library earlier and that I knew I could count on him following through with this time, because ever since I’d spanked his sweet little ass cherry red for his radio silence on parental D-Day, he’d been on top of that shit like jam on toast—but now that I’d grasped the full scope of what we were gonna need to do to pull off this whole academic revival plan for him, it was crystal fucking clear that when he walked in that door, I needed to put him to work. And sadly, I didn’t mean the kind of work that would end up with Noah covered in my cum, my fingers stuffed up his ass, or me balls-deep in that hot little mouth of his.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and ignored my cock, which knew as well as I did that we were now only T-minus three minutes until Noah got back and was already locked and loaded to take advantage of that fact, and doubled-down on my commitment to getting this academic shit done.
Did I want to strip him down so he was wearing nothing but my collar the minute he walked in the door? Hear him start to lose it as I played with his pretty little dick? Push him to take whatever I chose to give him until he broke down and started to beg? Watch him get all glassy-eyed and dazed, skin flushed and looking fuckinggorgeous, panting and desperate and—
Fuck.
Okay.
Down, boy.
Yes. I wanted all that shit, all the time, every fucking day, but I was gonna have tostop fucking thinking about it right nowand make the epic sacrifice to forego it completely onthisparticular day, because the long-term goal—which, to be clear, was a whole fucking lifetime of getting all of that with him, without the interruption of this whole “going back home and leaving me here at college without him” insanity of his parentals—was way more important than breaking the six-hour dry spell I’d just suffered through, no matter how much my dick tried to argue otherwise.
I palmed it, then forced my hand off my junk and closed my eyes, forcing myself to picture disgusting shit like roadkill and grandma porn and that sound Darryl Beauchamp’s knee had made just before it had popped through the skin, back when he’d gone down under that dogpile on the football field when we’d all been in middle school.
Annnnnnnnnd Mission Boner Killer accomplished… at least until Noah swung the door open a minute later and my cock shot straight up to salute him, because just… damn. Just sayin’, it was a goddamn miracle I’d made it through all the years of our friendship up until now without realizing how much more there should have been to it. He just… Hedidit for me.
“Hi,” he said, his cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink on the motherfucking planet and that new, sweet little hint of shyness in his voice as he paused at the door, smiling enough to show off his dimples as he glanced down at the very-happy-to-fucking-see-him tent in my pants and started fiddling with his collar, and—
Hold up. What the fuck wasthatabout? He wasn’t just fiddling with it. He was scratching at his throat.
My eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the movement, and then I was across the room and tugging his collar down—hisshirtcollar—before good sense could catch up with me.
Did I have the willpower to get this close to him while sporting a hard-on and not do something about it, despite my good intentions about us working on his academic shit tonight instead of trying to break our how-many-times-can-I-make-my-boy-come record? Lately, the answer to that had been a resounding hell to the no, but good sense wasn’t exactly top of mind at the moment, because yep, his neck was as cherry red as his ass had been last week when I’d spanked it, and that shit just wasn’t gonna fly with me.
“What the hell?” I asked, running a finger over the abused skin and wanting to fucking punch something—namely, myself—when he flinched, proving that the raw, irritated skin wasn’t just an optical illusion. “Noe, you said this thing wasn’t bothering you anymore.”
We’d gone out and got some special anti-itch cream and everything, because neither one of us had wanted him to take it off.
He blushed bright red and tried to pull away.
Uh, no. Wrong direction.
I yanked him back where he belonged.
“It’s fine,” he said, blinking up at me with those puppy-dog eyes that usually did me in as he tried and failed to brush my hands away from the collar I never should have let him wear this long.
But nope. Not gonna fall for that wrap-me-around-his-finger look. Not this time.
I unbuckled the collar.
“No, Gage!” he shouted, his eyes going wide and panicky as he tried to jerk away in desperation again. “You said I could keep it!”
“Bro, I said you were mine,” I reminded him, pinning him to my chest and finishing the job one-handed. I tossed the collar aside, then yanked his shirt off over his head, refusing to get distracted by how fucking delicious he looked with all that pale, creamy skin of his exposed and begging to be used as a cum depository, because… motherfuck. His whole throat was red and irritated, all the way around.
How had I missed that shit?
I swallowed hard. Jesus. I’d pretty fucking clearly let him down exactly like I’d never wanted to, so damn distracted by how hot things were between us lately that I’d failed at basic caretaking.
Noah made a tiny little sound of distress that gutted me, and I tipped his chin up, forcing him to look at me. “It’s not the collar that makes you mine, baby, and it’s gotta go if it’s hurting you.”
“I don’t… I don’t mind,” he said, his eyes welling up as he brushed his fingers over the redness ringing his throat. “I can hurt for you, Gage.”
