Short of breath, Vincent’s fingers dipped to the button of Mal’s pants. He parted it from the fabric, then found the zipper beneath and tugged it downward. Mal’s erection, which had been straining against his pants, was freed of another layer, and Vincent indulged himself by discovering it with his hand all over again. The breathy sound of contentment Mal made for him was worth the transgression.
The tie at his neck tightened, and Vincent’s hand stopped abruptly. He looked down at Mal to see a foreboding look on his face.
“Did I say you could touch?” Mal asked, then pulled the knot of the tie away from Vincent’s neck, relieving some of the pressure. Even as he did, he moved cautiously, like he was afraid that Vincent might try to get back at him for what he’d done. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Every dominant move Mal made strengthened Vincent’s erection and made him want more.
“No.” Vincent’s breath stuck in his throat even as his lungs begged for air. They hadn’t even started yet, but he was already beyond himself with need. “You didn’t.”
“Then no touching.”
Mal’s free hand dipped down and took Vincent’s by the wrist. He lifted it up his body, along his torso, until it arrived before his lips. With his eyes locked on Vincent’s, he opened his mouth just enough so that he could run Vincent’s fingers over the row of his teeth, then took Vincent’s index finger between his lips and sucked. The burning need in Vincent’s groin rolled over, lurching with such force that he almost bucked his hips. Mal’s soft lips around his finger were joined by his wet, warm tongue. It rolled over the backs of Vincent’s knuckle, then followed his length down to his fingertip.
Vincent stared down at Mal in wonder, unable to think, or speak, or move. Arousal rushed through him like water flooding a submarine, pushing reason from his head with its tremendous pressure and filling him up with its wild currents. He would drown in it and do so gladly—what they shared in that moment was beyond a simple hookup. The emotions in Mal’s eyes were raw, and they sank Vincent’s heart beneath their crushing forces like Vincent was the unwitting sailor seconds away from being swallowed by Mal’s sea.
With a hum, Mal closed his eyes. He started to suck while his tongue worked Vincent’s finger over, showing him how skilled he could be, if only he allowed Vincent to use his mouth. The punishment for Vincent’s transgression wasn’t going to be pain—at least, not in the literal sense of the word. Instead, Mal showed him everything he could have had, if only he’d been good, and tempted him with what Vincent hadn’t yet been permitted to have… and maybe never would.
Mal opened his mouth again and took a second finger in, sealing his lips around both while he continued to suck. He opened his eyes a crack to glance up at Vincent, then smirked and closed them again, sucking harder than before. Vincent watched, enchanted, wishing more than anything that it was his cock between Mal’s lips instead of his fingers.
“God.” Vincent’s voice was so pitched with desire that he barely recognized it. “Oh god, you’re beautiful.”
His arm trembled, not from the strain of keeping his body elevated, but from how smitten he’d become with the image of Mal in that moment.
“Let me touch you,” Vincent begged. “Please, let me touch you.”
Was it wrong to want a man who was old enough to be his father? To want to fill his ass and make him come over and over? Vincent didn’t think so. He’d make Mal his—give Mal the time of his life—and learn how best to please him. Mal may not have been entirely comfortable with himself, but he wasn’t scared to make known what he wanted. Vincent saw it was true in every calculated suck he made.
Mal wanted someone who would dominate him, but also someone he could dominate in turn—someone who would listen and perform instead of selfishly take. If that was what he wanted, then he’d found his match in Vincent. To listen, to learn, and to give pleasure… the hollow in Vincent’s gut was filled by the thought of it.Purpose.Tonight, Mal gave him purpose.
He’d be a fool not to want to listen—not to give Mal his everything.
Mal’s tongue reached the tips of Vincent’s fingers, then pulled back and parted from them entirely. The room was dark—the soft yellow glow of the bedside lamp was all they had to see by—but Vincent saw the hesitation in Mal’s eyes regardless.
Had he done something wrong?
“If it’s something I did, I’m sorry,” Vincent said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s not.” Mal pursed his lips, then closed his eyes and exhaled steadily. “I want you. I just… I need to be upfront.”
A stagnant feeling stilled the rushing waters of Vincent’s arousal. He remained silent and listened, ready for disappointment. If Mal wanted him to stop, he would… but he didn’t want to.
“You already know I’m in heat,” Mal said. His voice was serious, but his inflection was melancholy. “You found me not long after I’d taken my blockers, but I’m not on any kind of birth control, and I didn’t bring a condom.”
“Is that all?” Vincent would have laughed if Mal hadn’t looked so hung up about it. He held back, but let the grin on his face speak for him. “Baby, you have nothing to worry about. First of all, I’m infertile.”
The look on Mal’s face said that he didn’t believe it. That was fine. He didn’t need to.
“And second of all,” Vincent produced a condom from his back pocket, “I don’t go anywhere without protection.”
The tension on Mal’s face faded. He looked from the condom to Vincent, then raked his teeth over his lip and pulled on Vincent’s tie just slightly. Vincent dropped his hand in his haste for balance, crushing the condom between his palm and the bed.
“Don’t call me baby,” Mal whispered, the sound sweet against Vincent’s lips. “I don’t want that. Call me Daddy instead.”
Yes. Oh,fuckyes.
“Oh, Daddy,” Vincent whispered back, smirking. The words were a kiss yet to be sealed, the space between their mouths negligible. “How did you know that that’s exactly what I wanted to hear?”
10
Mal
