“You don’t come until I say so.” My voice comes out harsh.
Malcolm pouts, poking that fucking delectable lip out, and I bend over and bite it.
Coming up on my knees I reach over, shifting my weight as I fumble with the drawer on the nightstand, pulling it open. I can’t see inside, but I manage to find the foil packet and the tube of lube.
Kneeling between Malcolm’s legs, my gaze rakes over him, taking my time as if I were reading a book, while gently stroking my cock.
“Keep your eyes on me,” my voice low and commanding. “Watch me stroke myself, wishing it was your mouth instead of my hand.”
Malcolm’s breath hitches, but he obeys, gaze locking with my eyes, not the movement of my hand. His breath hitches as he licks his lower lip, practically salivating over what I’m doing.
“I want you on your knees, ass in the air.” Lifting the foil packet to my mouth, I rip it open as Malcolm pulls his legs up, moving them around me and gets on all fours, giving a little shake of his ass.
“Tease,” I groan, spanking his ass, making him moan.
Placing the condom on my swollen mushroom head, I gently roll it down the smooth, veiny shaft all the way to the base, then give a little tug on the tip, making sure there's room to catch my cum.
“This ass is mine.”
“Yours.” He half groans. Half whimpers. God, I've missed hearing how he sounds as he comes apart beneath my touch.
“Tonight isn’t going to be slow and passionate. It's going to be hard and rough. You made me wait too long to have what we should've already had. Freedom to be us.”
“Please. Jefferson, please fuck me. I need you inside me,” he cries, his voice coming out in broken gasps.
Opening the lube I squirt some down the crack of his ass before recapping it and tossing it onto the nightstand.
Malcolm buries his head in his pillow, his body quivering as I drag my finger between his cleft all the way to his opening. I rub a gentle circle around the rim before teasingly pressing the top of my finger into his opening. Slow and steady. Each time going further. One, then two, as I scissor my fingers, spreading his hole wider, preparing him to take me.
His groans send a direct message to my cock, as he begs me to be inside him. Malcolm begins to rock his hips, pushing himself onto my digits.
“None of that,” I remind him as I smack his ass. “I'm the one in control, and I’m the one that determines what pleasures you can have.”
I remove my fingers and Malcolm grunts in disapproval, quickly correcting himself before I have a chance. Lining my cock with his opening I thrust my hips forward, pushing myself inside of him. Not slow and delicate, but fast and hard.
I don't need to see Malcolm’s face to know his pupils are blown wide, lips trembling. Our bodies stay still, connected together while I give him a moment to adjust.
“You want more?” my gravelly voice asks. “You want it rougher?”
“Yes.” The word comes out hoarse and immediate. “Please,” he cries.
I smile, slow and wicked. I've missed his pleas so much.
“You’re going to take what I give you like a good boy. No coming until I tell you. No touching yourself without my permission.”
“Yes,” he all but whines.
His submission and consent is all I need. There's no holding back as I take hold of his hips, my grip so intense my nails pierce his flesh.
My body moves like a jackhammer as Malcolm's body willingly takes mine, begging for more than what I'm giving him. Our breaths become ragged, sweat glistening on our skin as we each come closer, inches from our release.
Sex is physical, yes, but this is more than that. It’s dominance and submission in the purest, most sacred sense. Not possession out of power, but devotion. Worship laced with dominance. And we are both equally giving our parts.
“You were made to take my cock,” I growl, my grip tightening as I speed my pace. “Made to be with me.”
Malcolm is all but shattering beneath me with a breathless cry, “I need to come. Please.”
He's been so good, and I see that the night has been hard for him. The man I love fought to be with me. Even when it cost him his family.
