Doesn’t like pain, my ass, Vincent thought. Jasper only needed to be properly introduced to pain and its pleasures.
He loosened his grip on Jasper’s hair a bit, making up for it by squeezing and twisting one nipple and then the other.
Jasper tried to curl in on himself once more, but Vincent tightened his fingers in his hair again, keeping him upright. “Please.” Jasper’s moan was desperate and frustrated as he rocked his hips, grinding down on Vincent’s cock.
“Fuck, pet.” Vincent surged forward, fastening his lips to Jasper’s throat and pressing his tongue against the rapid pulse he found there. He licked his way up Jasper’s neck, tasting sweat and the lingering scent of soap. “Please what?” he growled, sinking his teeth into Jasper’s earlobe.
That earned a full-body shudder that Vincent felt all the way at the base of his cock.
“Please touch me. Please, Sir. Please.”
Vincent tugged Jasper’s head back farther and dragged his teeth against Jasper’s throat, enjoying the strangled moan he felt beneath his lips. With his other hand, he made his way down Jasper’s chest and stomach until he lightly brushed his palm over the head of Jasper’s dick.
“Here?” he asked, swiping up the moisture gathered there and smearing it down the length with one finger. At the same time, Vincent found a nipple and sucked it between his teeth before biting down.
That was enough for Jasper to thrash against him, his hips bucking and a loud moan catching in his throat as he came. Mostly untouched. And without permission for the second time.
The miracles of youth.
Vincent shifted, rolling Jasper over onto his back. He planted a hand beside Jasper’s head and settled the other on his ass. He took a moment to enjoy the dazed, half-lidded, well-fucked expression, then buried himself in Jasper’s ass with a quick, hard thrust.
Jasper’s eyes rolled back, and a loud drawn-out groan tore out of his throat as he shot what was left in him. “Yes,” he gasped, and then again each time Vincent slammed into him.
He wouldn’t last much longer. Not with Jasper’s legs clamped around him and the sweet encouraging sounds he was making. Or the clench of his ass around Vincent’s thrusts.
He moved his hand from Jasper’s ass to his stomach, dragging a finger through the mess and up to Jasper’s lips. They parted easier than the first time, and the press of a hot tongue curling around his finger, sucking it clean, pushed him to the edge. He leaned down and bit Jasper’s throat, his hips stuttering as orgasm ripped through him.
Jasper moaned around Vincent’s finger and continued sucking until Vincent pulled it away.
It took a few breaths for Vincent to find the strength to move. He sat up, tossed the condom towards the trash, and found one end of the tie. Once Jasper’s arms were free, Vincent leaned over the edge of the bed for Jasper’s discarded towel to wipe them both down. Then he stretched out on his own side of the bed, snagged the tie still attached to Jasper, and pulled him closer.
Jasper didn’t need more coaxing to plaster himself to Vincent’s side, one arm and leg slung over his body. He let out a deep sigh and went boneless, his head pillowed on Vincent’s chest. “Mm.”
Vincent echoed the sentiment, threading his fingers through Jasper’s hair and closing his eyes. The promise of sleep hovered at the edge of his senses, and he didn’t feel like fighting it. They had all morning to get Jasper back home, and he didn’t have much to take care of before heading to the club. He was starting to drift off when Jasper spoke.
“Sir?”
“Mm?”
Jasper’s fingers rubbed an absent pattern against Vincent’s chest. “Can I ask why you never take your shirt off?”
Vincent tensed, then forced himself to relax. He stifled a sigh and gave up on getting back to sleep yet again. He’d expected that question sooner or later, and he didn’t want to go into the second contract without answering it, but he’d hoped to put off opening that can of worms at least alittlelonger.
“Because of the scars,” he said, trailing his fingers from Jasper’s hair across his shoulders.
Jasper tipped his head back, a dozen questions evident in his expression. When he didn’t ask any of them, Vincent sighed again and resigned himself to dealing with this now.
“I was in a bad car accident,” he said, propping up his outside leg and enjoying the way it caused Jasper to shift against him. “It was a long time ago, but they’re not exactly pretty.”
“I don’t care about that,” Jasper said, and Vincent stifled a scoff. “Scars aren’t supposed to be pretty.”
Vincent let out a slow breath as he stared at the ceiling. That was the opposite of Adam’s attitude. Every few weeks he had either subtly reminded Vincent that he had more than enough money to reduce the scarring or argued with him over why he chose to keep them as an ugly reminder.
Jasper crawled up Vincent’s body until he could press his nose into Vincent’s neck. “And I’m going to be a paramedic, remember? Open wounds don’t bother me. Scars are pretty compared to those.”
That earned a weak chuckle. “Do you have a scar fetish?”
“I dunno. I might have a Vincent’s-scars fetish,” Jasper replied, somehow sounding cheeky and genuine at the same time.
