“What now?” he asks.
Damned if I know. I want everything. I want to shove him to his knees and feed him my cock. I want to lie back and pull him on top of me so I can feel his weight pressing me into the bed. I want to roll him over and see what it would feel like to be inside him.
With no more than a couple of nights with him, I hate that I have to pick something. Not to mention that Victor’s had only God knows how many others. He’s the only man I’ve ever done anything with. I’ve no idea what I’m doing here.
“Jason,” Victor says, interrupting my spiraling thoughts. My eyes snap to his. “Stop thinking so much. Tell me what you want.”
Well, the beginning of my list is as good a place as any. “I want you to suck me.”
He smiles, slow and sure. “Your wish is my command,” he says lightly but he holds my gaze like he’s trying to impart a deeper message.
He brings his hands to my hips and walks me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed. I let them fold until I’m sitting on the edge. Victor drops gracefully to his own knees and puts his hands on my thighs. He pushes them gently apart and shuffles forward. My cock strains toward him. A single bead of fluid wells up at the tip. Victor bends his head and delicately licks it away.
“Oh, God.” I should not be taking the Lord’s name in vain, especially in these circumstances, but I can’t help it.
Victor’s eyes flick up at me. “You taste like heaven,” he teases.
At least, I think he’s teasing, but then I stop thinking entirely because he slides his lips over my cock, and I lose track of everything but his warm, wet mouth. Victor alternates between deep sucks and long, lingering licks. My toes curl and my hands clench the already-rumpled bed linens.
“Merciful Christ, you’re so good at this, baby.”
It’s only when Victor looks up at me, his eyes wide, that I realize what I’ve just said. Not the blasphemy, although I’m a little ashamed I can’t seem to stop that.
The other part. Leah liked to be praised and only the Blessed Virgin knows why that habit is still so ingrained after all these years. I suck in a deep breath and prepare to apologize.
Victor pulls off with a pop and immediately wraps a large hand around my cock. “I am quite good at this, if I do say so myself, and if you want to call me baby or anything else, that’s fine with me. Stop thinking so damn much, Jason, and let go.”
I close my mouth and then close my eyes as Victor strokes up, then down, the length of my shaft. I can’t keep my eyes closed when he resumes sucking me, though the sight of him on his knees between mine is incendiary. My hands twitch on either side of my thighs and I put them on his shoulders in lieu of grabbing his head.
“Go ahead,” he pants in between hard pulls that make my spine tingle and my balls tighten. When I don’t move, he gives a snort through his nose, grabs my hands, and places them on his own head without breaking his heavenly rhythm.
“Oh, Christ,” I pant. I thread my fingers in his hair and tug experimentally at the strands.
“Yeah,” he mumbles around my cock.
“I want to fuck your face,” I tell him. “Can you take that?”
He pulls off me and sags in between my knees, like his strings have been cut and the only thing holding him up are my hands in his hair.
“Yeah,” he says. “Do that. Please.”
His mouth is shiny and wet and his cock is stiff and nearly purple between his strong thighs. As much as I’m loving his mouth on me, I want him to have some pleasure here, too. “Jerk yourself off while I’m doing it,” I tell him.
He nods, his right hand wrapping around his thick length even as he shimmies back enough to allow me to stand up. I tighten my grip in his hair and good Lord, I can see his jaw relax right before I grab the base of my cock and angle it to fit between his parted lips. “Oh, yes, that’s it.”
His tongue is soft but his lips are firm around me and I ease into his mouth with agonizing slowness. “You are really good at this, aren’t you?” His eyes shine up at me with knowing satisfaction. “Babe,” I say experimentally.
It’s a little too close to what I used to call Leah for complete comfort, but his face goes soft and his eyes close and I feel an absurd measure of pride that I’m the one who made him look like this.
Debauched, with a mouthful of cock, saliva dripping from his slack lips down his chin, his hand working his dick with a frantic rhythm. But also blissful, like there’s no place he’d rather be than on his knees before me, taking my cock like I own him.
I feel like Jesus must have while walking on water. Powerful, yet afraid with every step that I’ll sink and take everything down with me. And then I look again at Victor’s upturned, trusting face, and the hand wrapped around evidence that he wants this as much as I do, and I increase the pace of my thrusts.
“Yes,” I grunt over and over with each thrust. “So good.”
My eyes dart between the vision of my cock pistoning between Victor’s lips and his cock winking in and out of view in his fist. “I want to see you come before I shoot down your throat.”
Victor’s hand stutters in its rhythm, then strokes faster and faster. His whole body clenches, his lips clamp down around my cock, his toes curl behind him, and his shoulders hunch forward. Then, with a guttural groan that vibrates around my cock, ropes of white shoot between his fingers.
