Or maybe have him poke me.
“How’s that straight thing working out for you?”
He growls. “Are you really going there this morning? I haven’t even had any caffeine yet.”
“I’m just saying, if you’re still confused, what we did last night was pretty gay.”
In a movement that’s much smoother than I expect, Marcus flips us, straddling my body and pinning my arms to the bed. His morning look is in-fucking-credible: lush pink lips, rugged stubble, hair sticking up everywhere. His wide chest is covered in a layer of dark hair that trails down his narrow waist and disappears beneath the waistband of his boxers.
I lick my lips as I ogle him, and Marcus clears his throat. “I’m up here, Jer.”
“I’m aware,” I murmur, admiring his thick length, which is significantly tenting his boxers.
“Quit looking at my dick.”
I glance up at him. His whisky eyes squint at me with a hint of annoyance and a whole lot of lust. “If you’re trying to be less gay, big guy, this is not it.”
Marcus cocks his head in a very predatory way, and his gaze darkens. He releases one of my wrists and pinches my chin in his grip. It hurts a little, and my cock goes from semi-hard to rock solid. “Maybe you missed the part where I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“No, I heard you?—”
He covers my mouth with his hand and lowers his face to mine. “Shut up, Jeremy.” His voice is a deep rumble that I feel inmy chest. I resist the childish urge to lick his hand because that would certainly kill the tension between us.
Whether he means to or not, ever since our encounter at The Pegasus, Marcus has given me a lot of power over him. Last night while I was cleaning us up, I could viscerally feel the moment that he’d had enough. He felt helpless—I could see it in the way he watched me, fidgeting like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. It’s why I didn’t ask him explicitly to stay. He would have left.
Instead, I gave him a choice. I gave him back his control.
But now, with his hand crushed over my mouth and the other hand sliding to my throat, dominant Marcus is out to play.
A thrill of excitement rushes through my limbs.
This is the side of him that graduated from business school early and at the top of his class.
The side that shelters his siblings from their dad’s bullshit.
The infuriating side that questions my designs and makes me rethink everything.
He gives me a smirk. “If this is all it took to shut you up, I would have done it sooner.”
“Liar” is my muffled reply.
He leans forward, savagely pushing his cock against mine. I whimper into his hand, my eyes drooping closed. “You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with my cock, pretty boy. Do I have that right?” I open my eyes, our gazes connecting, and he drops his hand. “Answer the question.”
“Y-yes.”
He reaches between us and gives me a hard squeeze. I yelp in surprise, but it fades into a needy moan.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir?” I squeak.
He squeezes again, harder this time. “Try again. Yes, what? What do you want?”
“Yes, I’m obsessed. I want your cock.” I’m panting like the pathetic slut I am, but it feels euphoric. I’m accustomed to men controlling me, but Marcus is outwardly, by far, peak masculinity, and I’ve never been with anyone like him. He’s all muscles and hair with a huge cock to match, and it’s making me crazy. I don’t think he’s ready to fuck me—yet—but if he offered, you can bet I’d be on all fours with my ass in the air like an obedient fucking show dog.
He releases me and stands near the edge of the bed, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs. His cock springs free, the head already slick with precum. “Come here.”
I scramble over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
