Isha was staring at the ceiling, twirling a pen in his elegant fingers. Definitely not listening to whoever was on the other end.
I spun him around in his chair and dropped to my knees. He was dressed in the jeans and T-shirt he’d taken to wearing when he worked from home. The casual look amped up his hotness to a level I couldn’t deal with, and with the house finally empty, I was done waiting for him.
My urgency to get him naked was helped by the fact that he’d forgone wearing a belt, and he was barefoot. I yanked his jeans off and pointed between my mouth, his dick, and the phone still pressed to his ear.
He smirked, but I already had the upper hand. Over the past few months, I’d stripped away his need to control every aspect of his life…in the bedroom, at least. Isha had been an incredible lover from the start, but now, with everything on the table, every single day, our physical chemistry was off the scale.
I eased Isha’s underwear down his long, muscular legs. He was already half hard, and I made short work of finishing the job, grinning as his hand found its way to my hair, and his grip tightened with every slide of my tongue on his dick. I loved winding him up. I’d pay for it later when he threw me down and fucked my brains out, but for the moment, I had him exactly where I wanted him.
Having Isha’s dick in my mouth made me fucking sweat. I dropped my shorts and pulled off him long enough to shed my T-shirt. Our eyes met, and Isha garbled something to whoever he was speaking to.
He ended the call and ditched the phone. It clattered…somewhere, I didn’t care. How could I when Isha was smirking hard enough to let me know I was in serious trouble.
“That was the accountant, you cheeky shit.”
“The what?”
“The accountant we hired to keep me away from the books so I have more time for fucking on my office floor.”
“Good. Then he knows you’re a busy man.”
Isha rolled his eyes. It had taken Dom a while to convince him that someone else could manage the company finances on a day-to-day basis, leaving him more time for other things, but I was working on demonstrating what those other things could be. It helped that the magic accountant had been dispatched to the shop too, which left me two whole days a week to commit to the project.
I sat back on my heels, palming my cock. Isha ran his speculative gaze over me again, and I shivered. I thought I’d caught him off guard with my sneak attack, but perhaps he’d been ready for me with a plan of his own.
He rose and hitched his T-shirt over his head, tossing it over his shoulder. He closed the distance between us and crouched in front of me. “What do you want, Jude?”
I loved it when he said my name like that, as though my name was the only word he’d ever speak. But I didn’t have an answer to his question. I wanted him. As ever, the details weren’t important.
Isha eyed me a moment, then stood, dragging me with him. He pushed me towards the couch at the back of the loft. It was a sofa bed, apparently, but it was bigger than the double I had in my own house. The bed we’d destroyed several times over.
Fucking on the attic couch was never like that. If Isha took me there, it meant he wanted it slow, perhaps, even…
I wound my arms around him from behind, my cock digging into his back. “You want me to fuck you?”
Isha hummed. “Maybe. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
Another shiver ran through me. Topping Isha was a new thing. For so long, he’d been adamant it wasn’t something he wanted, and that had been fine by me—of course it had. Then one day something had changed. He’d met my gaze across a crowded room and that night…wow. I’d never experienced anything like it.
It had only happened a handful of times since, and it wasn’t something I ever asked him for, but if he asked me? Yeah. I was all over that shit. And the difference it made in Isha was beautiful. It was as if letting me love him like that had driven off demons I hadn’t even known about. He was lighter, brighter. And I loved that.
I pushed him towards the couch, grateful that it was wide enough for us to lie down without restriction, and that we kept a sneaky bottle of lube within easy reach.
Isha scooted back and folded his arms behind his head, giving himself up to me. Another shot of nerves fluttered through my stomach. I’d climbed into the attic with the sole intention of sucking his dick and bending over his desk. The prospect of being inside him was mind-blowing.
I nudged his legs apart with my knees and kissed him, and the moment our lips met, I melted against him, taken back to the very first time we’d kissed in my kitchen. My memories were often dimmed by seizures, recovery, and medication, but I recalled with perfect clarity how I’d felt the moment Isha's lips had touched mine. It had stoked a fire between us that had never dulled, and if I could only kiss him for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man.
We kissed until our lips were raw, and I’d worked Isha open with gentle, lubed fingers. Then I rose onto my knees and pushed his supple legs back. Sliding into him was torture, but I was always careful with him, however hard and filthily he urged me on. Isha was precious to me in ways no one had ever been.
“Damn.” He dug his fingers into my back. “I forget what this feels like.”
“How? This shit keeps me up at night.”
“Nothing keeps you up at night—fuck.”
I gave him a moment and busied myself distracting him from the inevitable pain with more kissing. It worked, and before long, he was moving against me, setting the slow rhythm that would drive us both insane.
Heat built between us. Still kissing him, I gripped the arm of the couch and fucked him a little harder. Pleasure rippled through me, gaining momentum with every slow, deep, thrust. A coil tightened in my gut, and I knew I wouldn’t last long.
