He kissed me, and this time it was different—slower, more deliberate, like he was trying to tell me something he didn't have words for. I melted into it, let him guide me backward toward the bed, and when the backs of my knees hit the mattress I sat down heavily.
Grant followed me down, one knee on the bed beside me, hands braced on either side of my hips. “Lie back.”
I did and he climbed over me, careful to avoid my bad shoulder and leg. The weight of him was perfect. His body pressed against mine, skin to skin, and I felt every point of contact like a brand.
His cock was a thick line of heat against my hip, and I reached down with my good hand to wrap my fingers around him. He was hot and hard and silky soft all at once, and when I stroked him he groaned into my mouth.
“Fuck, Jace?—”
His mouth found mine again, and I lost myself in the kiss, hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach. He kissed down my neck, my collarbone, my chest, andI arched into it, craving more. His tongue traced the line of my collarbone, then moved lower, circling one nipple before sucking it into his mouth.
“Grant—” The sensation shot straight to my cock, and I bucked up against him.
“I know.” His hand wrapped around my cock, and I gasped at the contact, hips jerking up. “Easy. Let me take care of you.”
And he did. His hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes, thumb sweeping over the head of my cock and spreading the precome leaking there. The slick slide of it made my toes curl, made my breath come in harsh pants.
His mouth moved lower, kissing down my stomach, tongue dipping into my navel before continuing its path. When he reached the base of my cock, he looked up at me, eyes dark and hungry.
“Can I?”
“Fuck yes.”
He wrapped his hand around the base of my cock, holding me steady, and then his mouth was on me. Hot and wet and perfect. He took me in slowly, inch by inch, until I hit the back of his throat. I felt him swallow around me, felt the constriction of it, and had to grip the sheets with my good hand to keep from thrusting up.
“Holy fuck—” My voice came out wrecked, barely coherent.
He pulled off slowly, tongue dragging along the underside of my cock, and looked up at me with his lips shiny and swollen. “Good?”
“So fucking good. Don't stop.”
He didn't. He took me back in, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm that had me seeing stars. His hand worked what his mouth couldn't reach, twisting on the upstroke in a way that made my whole body tense. His other hand moved lower, cupping my balls, rolling them gently.
I was panting now, head thrown back against the pillows, good hand fisted in his hair. Every pull of his mouth sent pleasure sparking up my spine. Every swallow around the head of my cock made my hips jerk.
“Grant, I'm gonna—if you keep doing that?—”
He pulled off with an obscene pop, and I whimpered at the loss. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come.”
“Then hurry the fuck up?—”
“No.” His voice dropped lower, authoritative in a way that made my cock twitch. “I'm not done with you yet.”
Before I could protest, his mouth was back on me, taking me deep in one smooth motion that made my back arch off the bed. But this time he didn't move. Just held me there, my cock buried in the wet heat of his throat, and I felt him swallow around me.
“Fuck—Grant?—”
He pulled off slowly, tongue working the underside of my shaft, then took me back in. Over and over, setting a rhythm that was torturously slow and absolutely relentless. His hand gripped the base of my cock, squeezing just hard enough to keep me from getting too close to the edge.
“Please—” I was begging now, good hand fisted in his hair, trying to get him to move faster.
He pulled off completely, and I groaned in frustration. “What did I say about patience?”
“I don't have any. Not with you.”
“Then I'll teach you some.” His eyes were dark, commanding, and it sent a thrill through me. “You're going to lie there and take what I give you. Understand?”
“Yes.”
