Temptation proved too alluring to resist—Mal slid his fingers through Vincent’s hair and tugged him down so they were chest to chest, then lip to lip. The kiss that ignited between them scorched Mal down to his toes, but it wasn’t enough. He neededmore.
He’d never felt so confident before, so sure of what he wanted, and how he needed to get it. Vincent, who’d been kind and understanding since the moment they’d met in the storage closet, could give him what he needed—to be dominated and filled, yet never to relinquish control. At least, not entirely. Mal was too new to this stunning reality to know exactly what it was he wanted, but what he did know was that hearing Vincent call him Daddy turned his cock to steel and made his whole body clench in anticipation. Tonight, a man who might be young enough to be his son was going to claim him, and he was going to do so only when Mal told him he was allowed to. The thought alone would make him come if he lingered on it.
He needed Vincent inside of him, and he needed itbadly.
The kiss deepened at Mal’s insistence. He tightened his grip on Vincent’s hair and tugged. Then, jaw aching and lips sore, Mal turned his head to the side and broke the kiss to pant for breath. Vincent, his boy—hisgoodboy—looked down at him, expression seized by arousal. It looked like Mal wasn’t the only one who was getting off on their age difference.
What was it that Vincent saw in him?
Vincent was a trophy—a young man out of Mal’s league he never should have been able to land. Intelligent, articulate, and accomplished, he was the kind of man that anyone would be thrilled to bring to bed. What did Mal offer him in exchange?
The thought didn’t matter for long. Vincent nosed his way under Mal’s jaw, rooting and nudging until he could press a series of kisses along his neck that made Mal forget about everything beyond the immediacy of the moment. “Daddy?”
Mal closed his eyes and tilted his head back as cascading pleasure plunged down his spine. Vincent could force Mal into submission on a whim—and yet here he was, gladly giving up his power for a fantasy they both shared.
“Yes, baby?” Mal ran a hand through Vincent’s hair as he kissed and nipped. His cock pressed between the folds of his fly, and he rolled his hips to push it against Vincent’s body. The contact was almost orgasmic, and Mal had to shut himself down before he took it too far.
He couldn’t come. Not yet. They’d only just begun.
“Can I touch you, please?” Vincent kissed along his jaw, leaving numb, tingling pleasure in his wake. “Wanna feel you. Wanna make you feel good.”
Fireworks exploded behind Mal’s eyes, and he sucked in a startled breath as his cock twitched in response.
“Yes, baby,” Mal whispered. “Touch me. You’re allowed. I wanna feel you, too.”
Almost before he was through speaking the words, Vincent’s hand dipped down to his cock. His briefs—lightly marked by their earlier encounter—divided his shaft from Vincent’s fingertips, but the joy of having someone’s hand on him like this—and wanting it—was uncharted territory. Vincent grasped him, squeezing only enough so that pleasure and adrenaline rocketed through Mal at once, leaving him blinded to anything else.
He didn’t hook up with men—he wanted a loving, committed relationship. But tonight? With Vincent? The touch of his hand alone convinced Mal that it was worth it.
It was his chance at a new start, and he was going to run with it.
“Like that, Daddy?” Mal felt Vincent grinning as he pressed kiss after kiss to Mal’s neck and jaw. “Do you like it like that?”
Mal did, but he had no idea how to string the words together to say as much. All he could do was push up into Vincent’s hand, filling his palm with his clothed shaft in the pursuit of pleasure.
It seemed like Vincent got the message. A dark chuckle tickled the fine hairs along Mal’s neck, and then, delicately, Vincent nosed against him and murmured, “I think you might like it even better if you let me take your briefs off. Please, can I? I wanna be good for you. Will you let me?”
“Yes,” Mal rasped. He lifted his hips, eager to be rid of all of his clothes. The blockers had taken effect and his heat was no longer an issue, but his skin had started to warm, and his clothes had become an insufferable layer trapping too-humid air against his skin. “Take it off. Take it all off. Take care of me, baby. I wanna know how good you can make me feel.”
A silent laugh ghosted against the crook of Mal’s neck moments before the mattress dipped. Vincent had changed positions. Soon enough, Mal was guided upward so Vincent could strip his jacket, shirt, and tie from his torso. Then, tenderly, he was laid back on the bed. His head flattened the pillows. When he was settled, Vincent lifted his hips and guided his pants down his legs. Pants, shoes, and socks discarded, the heat that had once been trapped against his skin was liberated, and Mal felt like he could breathe again.
But there was still one more pesky layer of clothing to remove.
“Baby?” Mal asked breathlessly. He remained in place, unable to move. The muscles of his legs were too loose to want to work, and his joints felt like they’d dissolved. “You need to take off your clothes, too. I don’t want them on you anymore.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
How could two words make him feel so limitless? Mal’s heart felt seconds away from exploding, but at the same time, he knew he needed more. When Vincent filled him and took his heat, he needed to know that he was still in control—that he was the one calling the shots, even if it was Vincent who was on top.
Vincent’s clothing hit the floor. It folded over itself, pooling in rich, crumpling folds. Until he’d been told to act, Vincent hadn’t so much as stripped his own clothes from his body.
Mal got the impression he was going to be fine.
Nude, Vincent crawled his way back over Mal. Without clothes to hide his figure, Vincent was narrow and lean to the point that Mal would have said that he was delicate had it not been for the solid construction of his body. His arms didn’t bulge, but they were sculpted with muscle. His pecs were defined, as were his abs, but they didn’t overwhelm his figure. His lean body was marked by a shallow navel, below which a line of dark hair led down to Vincent’s groin. His cock bobbed as he climbed up the bed, curved just slightly in ways that promised pleasure. A dot of precum clung to its tip, and for a moment, Mal entertained the notion of not using protection at all. The undercurrents of his heat whispered in his ear what a fantastic idea it would be to let Vincent knock him up the old-fashioned way… that he didn’t need to go through with expensive fertility treatments when he had an alpha in bed with him.
They were thoughts Mal needed to shake, and fast, before they took hold. He groped across the sheets, looking for the condom Vincent had dropped earlier. Even if Vincent’s claim of infertility wasn’t a ploy to get Mal into bed for a raw fuck, Mal didn’t want to take the chance. Inviting another person to start a family with him could jeopardize his dream.
Mal didn’t want complications. He didn’t want heartbreak. Right now, all he wanted was Vincent. The memories they made tonight would stay memories—it was how it had to be.
