I would give himeverything.
Because he’s so fucking perfect, and he’smine.
He licks his lips and I can feel his hands working to peel my briefs down. With my free hand, I stop him, grabbing his wrist.
I shake my head.
“Tell me you understand,” I mutter. Jacob’s palm is warm against my flesh and my cock is aching to be freed, but I need those words from him. I need him to sayYes, Daddy.
Jacob lets out a heavy breath. “I understand,” he murmurs, his hands gripping my thighs where I hold him. I let go, his words soothing the ache inside me as I gaze down at him, like this. My cock presses against the tight fabric, wet and strained.
And then I feel the rush of air, cool against my shaft as he pushes my briefs down with a heavy force andgrabs meby my cock, harder than I would have thought he was capable of.
Up until this moment, all Jacob has been has beencharming.Sweet, even. But one look in his deep blue eyes as he squeezes my leaking, hard cock, and I realize I am in trouble. Because beneath all the sugar, is spice.
“I would just rather ask for forgiveness than permission,” he says, and I barely get a chance to open my mouth before he’s wrapping his perfect lips around my cock and hollowing his cheeks.
“Oh, fuck, Jake, baby—”
The air whooshes out of my lungs as he rolls his tongue around my cock, groaning and moaning as he cradles my balls with one hand and holds my ass in place with the other. He licks and sucks me like he’s starving, and I don’t mean for food.
His eagerness is not missed, and I can already feel my orgasm starting to culminate like a storm.
“Jake…” I bite, blinking as I try to process the world around me. I feel flush and my balls draw tight, and I start to panic, because I don’t want to come this fast, but if he keeps up what he’s doing, I’m going to.
And I don’t want this to be over so fast. I want to enjoy it, I want to enjoy every bit of what he’s giving me.
My thoughts stray and wander down guilty roads. Somewhere in the back of my mind, this feels like deja vu. Another mouth, another orgasm. Another night that will lead to a morning alone, and I hate that.
My gaze lands on the couch, and the images from last night push forth. Of another man between my legs, with my cock in his mouth. I try to push the thought aside, not wanting to think of fucking Garrett and his bullshit right now. Not when I’m with Jacob.
But I also can’t shake the memory of that fantasy, the one I let myself desperately cling to so I could come down Garrett’s throat. Of Jacob and his perfect mouth bringing me to release. I groan as my fingers tighten in his hair at the base of his neck. I grip them tight as I thrust my cock into his throat without a second thought, my body chasing what it craves.
Release.
I’ve always been the kind of man who likes a little control. It’s why I like it when men like Garrett resist me. When they fight and challenge me. Throw me around and try to get me to submit. I never do, they always tap out because they all talk a big game in front of those board rooms and on their fucking yachts, but the minute I have them on their knees with their faces pressed into the pillows, they cave like the little bitches they actually are, and that submission is always a sweet victory.
But with Jacob, I feel… different. I don’t want to control him.
I want tosubmit.
I want him to take everything I have to give and then some.
Fucking hell.
My orgasm hits me hard and fast, and I barely have time to process it. I grab his neck, growling out my release as I push him forward, hitting the back of his throat as I erupt without warning. To his credit, he doesn’t startle or try to push me away, even though in the sliver of sanity left in my brain, I know I’m cutting off his airway. But Jacob doesn’t choke or gag on my cock like I expect. Instead, his hands find my asscheeks and he grips my cheeks hard, pushing me forward as he continues to suck and groan. My vision is hazy as I look down, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows my cum. Some spills out the side of his lips, and I groan because holy fuck… that sight alone is going to get me hard again. Alcohol or not.
I pull my cock out of his mouth, the remnants of my release painting his lips, and I don’t miss the way he licks my cum off of them like it’s fucking icing.
I gaze down at him with wide eyes, my breath heavy, my heart in my throat.
“Sorry, Daddy,” he says, flashing those bright blue eyes at me so fucking innocently, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. “I couldn’t help myself.” His voice is dark, low. Deep.
But it’s not the words themselves that do me in. No.
It’s the way he says them so perfectly. So authentically. As if he’s never said them before, as if he’s saying them for the first time and the hundredth time all at once. I grasp his chin without thinking and force his face against my semi-soft cock. I thrust it against his lips.
“Is that so?” I ask, my voice tinged with the haze of too many glasses of champagne. My voice is as bleary as his pupil-blown gaze.
