Capturing Scott’s lips in a kiss that demanded nothing less than complete submission, Joe walked Scott backward into the living room. Scott reached up and wrapped his arms around Joe’s neck, accepting every decision Joe made as if nothing could ever feel more natural to him.
Sofa. Skin. Sex.
Joe had done everything he could to make Scott feel wanted and safe. Now, it was time to get on with the rest of the night’s activities. Joe had to direct them to the sofa, get rid of their clothes, and find the skin beneath. Then, finally,blessedly, they’d be allowed to screw each other without any concerns or uncertainties hanging over their heads.
Joe had only taken a few steps when he realised that he should have specified that the guys should stack the boxes onthe other side of the room. A whole obstacle course now existed between where they stood and the sofa.
Breaking the kiss for a moment, Joe looked over his shoulder toward the bedroom; his nice, familiar bedroom with all his toys within easy reach, and with a completely clear access route.
No. That space was still all about him; it would take time to change that. The sofa was going to be about them right from the start, and they were bloody well going to have sex on it tonight.
“S-sir?” Scott asked. Thewhy the hell have you stopped kissing mepart of the question remained unsaid, but it hung in the air nevertheless.
“Do you trust me?” Joe asked Scott.
“Yes, sir.” He didn’t even stutter on the S.
“Good. Hold on to that thought.”
* * * * *
Without anything that Scott was willing to consider sufficient warning, Joe picked him up, lifted him over the high back of the sofa, and dropped him. Well-padded cushions softened his landing, but they did nothing to absorb his shock.
Scott squirmed, desperately trying to pull himself up into a sitting position, but his journey over to that side of the sofa had stolen both his coordination and his balance. He flailed like a recently landed fish, and only just sat up in time to see Joe throw himself over the sofa back to join him.
It was impossible for Scott to remain shocked for long, mostly because Joe pounced on him the second he’d recovered from his own less than graceful landing, and pinned him down.
Joe’s lips covered Scott’s mouth. His hands tugged at Scott’s clothes.
“You’re allowed to help get us both naked,” Joe mumbled into the kiss.
From any other man, it would have sounded sarcastic. From Joe, it sounded like a perfectly sensible decision.
A moment ago, Scott didn’t have permission to do anything, so it was fine that he’d lay there and merely accepted whatever Joe wanted to do with him. Now that he had permission, lying there idly was no longer an option. It would have been a crime to waste that kind of opportunity.
Scott scrabbled at Joe’s T-shirt, pushing it up, desperately trying to get at the skin beneath. Every inch of Joe deserved to be worshiped; and now, Scott knew he was going to have time to do the task justice. He wriggled beneath Joe’s body in a concerted effort to touch every bit of him while at the same time desperately trying to get his own trousers off.
Scott had just reached for the tab on his fly—and was sending up thanks that he was finally going to be able to get out of his far too tight trousers—when Joe caught hold of first Scott’s right wrist, then his left. With both of his arms suddenly pinned to the sofa seat on either side of his shoulders, Scott was trapped, his fly as firmly fastened as ever.
Joe moved his legs apart to straddle Scott’s hips and lifted himself up, parting their bodies so he could stare down at him.
“Mine.”
Scott nodded as he fought to catch his breath. “Y-yes. Y-yours,” he agreed.
Joe grinned. At some point, his T-shirt had been tossed aside, so had Scott’s.
Scott glanced down between their bodies. Joe’s cock was no longer hidden away behind painfully tight layers of fabric. His erection stood proudly away from his body, curving up toward his stomach, hard and glorious. Scott’s fingers twitched, but there was no way he could get free.
His permission to touch Joe had been taken away as easily as it had been granted.
“P-please?” Scott asked.
Joe raised an eyebrow. “Please what?”
“Sir,” Scott quickly corrected. “Please, s-s-sir.”
Joe smiled, but he shook his head. He hadn’t been hinting about the honorific. “Tell me what you want.”
