I snort and take a few steps towards him. “You’ve already lost the plot, dude. I hire escorts, not the fake boyfriend shit Claire offers. We’re here to fuck. I assume Claire told you what I like?”
The man tilts his head to the side as he takes me in from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I cross my arms over my chest, knowing that I look the picture of a rockstar after a grueling concert.
“I know what you like, but do you know what you like?”
What the hell kind of psychoanalyzing shit is that? “I know exactly what I like. Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”
The man doesn’t even bristle, I’ll give him that. Instead, he stands there and slowly begins to undress. Over the years I’ve perfected my poker face, mostly for interviews when they ask benign, annoying questions that make me want to punch something. Preferably the person asking the question. Every inch of tanned skin that is slowly revealed makes me question my ability to keep that poker face, though.
Where does this fucking agency get these men? Because they’re all hot to the point of absurdity. This one is no different. Trevor was hot as sin and willing to put up with whatever I threw at him. A fun time. But this one, he’s radiating hostility, which is oddly kind of a turn-on. He carefully slips off his button-up, folds it, and then sets it on the chair in the corner of the room.
“My name is Benji, by the way,” Benji says as he slowly unbuttons his pants.
The name takes a few moments to register in my brain since I’m too focused on the inches of skin that are slowly being revealed. He has a swimmer's build. Broad shoulders that taper to a thin waist, a splash of freckles across his cheeks, and disheveled light brown hair. My fingers twitch with the need totouch him, bruise him, toss him around like a rag doll despite him having more weight on me. We’re almost evenly matched, but I’m just slightly shorter.
“I don’t care about your name,” I snarl.
Benji laughs once he’s in only his boxer briefs. He gestures towards his body, lips twitching with a barely constrained smirk. So it’s like that.
“I believe for us to fuck you need to get undressed as well.”
I gesture at my own body, clearly mocking him. “That’s your job.”
Benji steps closer, smelling like aftershave and expensive sweet cologne. I try to keep my breathing even as he works his fingers under my shirt, slowly trailing it up over my head until I’m shirtless. Instead of moving on to my pants, Benji splays his hot hands over my chest, then curves them around to grip my ribs. The noises in my head slowly quiet under his touch, until I can only hear the gentle inhale-exhale of his slow breathing.
He tugs me to him, until I can feel the hardness of his cock against my hip. My eyes dip to his mouth, the gentle curve of his plush lips. His top lip is a little plumper than the bottom, and a freckle sitting at the corner of his mouth stands out from the rest dotting his cheeks.
“Is kissing allowed?” Benji asks quietly.
“If you’re a good kisser,” I reply.
Benji’s lips twitch again in obvious amusement. “I’m a great kisser.”
Before I can reply with something caustic and bitingly sarcastic, his lips come down on mine. My brain shuts off under the onslaught of his kiss. It’s too gentle though, so the quiet doesn’t last long. I curl my fingers in the hairs at the nape of his neck, using the hair to tilt his head to the side so I can kiss him harder, shoving my tongue into his mouth so he gets the idea of how tonight is going to go.
He’s a good boy because he doesn’t fight me. Just lets me kiss him like I’m fucking him. Licking into his mouth, biting at his lip, everything and anything until my cock is so hard that I’m afraid I’ll lose my practiced stamina and come right in my pants. I back him up towards the bed until he falls, and I follow him down with our mouths still fused together. His hands never leave my torso, holding on tight, fingers digging into the spaces between my ribs.
I pull away from his mouth to bite at his neck. When my teeth press into his skin, his fingers curl painfully into my sides. Nails bite at my skin and I grin into the crook of his neck. One of Benji’s hands tangles in my hair, tugging my head back until he can aim his narrow-eyed gaze at me.
“That hurts, asshole.”
I blink slowly at him in the darkness. “That’s the point.”
“Your turn,” Benji says slowly before flipping us over.
Benji takes my wrists in a tight grip, holding them over my head against the mattress. My pulse thunders at the touch, like I’m a rabbit caught by a wolf in a shadowy forest. His gaze is dark even in the pitch black of the bedroom. His fingers squeeze my wrist once, making my brain focus on the pressure of his grip instead of the sudden flip in the dynamic.
“What are you doing?” I ask quietly but firmly.
Benji’s grin is infectious with its beauty. Like pure fucking sunshine.
“Giving you a taste of your own medicine.”
And then Benji dips down to bite my shoulder. The pain slides through me, slowly, like lava inching down the side of a volcano. His bite isn’t remotely gentle, just like mine wasn’t. No doubt there will be a bite mark on my skin for days to come. No one has ever bitten me back. Who the fuck is this guy? I struggle against his grip, but he doesn’t let go, he just glides his lips alongmy shoulder, to the crook of my neck, then up my cheek so he can press his mouth against my ear.
“What’s the ruling?” Benji asks, his breath hot against the shell of my ear.
I struggle against his grip again, but only half-heartedly this time. His weight presses me into the bed, his cock hard against mine. I’m not going to answer him with words. I roll my hips up until our cocks slide together through his boxers and my pants.
