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Anyway, he said he wanted to hurt. Said he wanted it rough.

“God, you’re so pretty. So tight. Just the best slut, aren’t you? Can’t believe how good you feel around me. Even though you’ve been ridden so many times, you’re still so good at strangling my dick.”

Dean makes a noise that’s either a laugh or a choke, turning to sort of hide his face in the pillow under his head.

I pull it away. “No, you don’t. Look at me. Fucking look at me.”

Fuck if I don’t nearly shoot the second he meets my eyes. The way he always seems to want to please me… Heady.

I snap my hips over and over, burying myself deep before pulling out and making him gasp again, over and over and fucking over again.

“Who’s fucking you, Dean?”

“You are, Mike.”

“Who’s fucking you?” This isn’t me forcing him to perform in front of a client. This is only for us, and I want to hear him say my name.

Over and over. Forever.

“It’s you, Mike. You’re fucking me. You are.”

His chest heaves. I can’t help myself when I dip my head to take one tan nipple between my teeth. The clench of his ass around my dick is a sweet fucking reward.

“That’s right. I’m the one fucking you. I’m always the one fucking you. No matter who else gets at this ass, you’re my good boy. I’m the one you see when you close your eyes, aren’t I? I’m the one you come back to. The one you beg for.”

I’m not thinking straight right now. Words are just coming out. Imagine my surprise when he whispers, “Yes, Mike. It’s always been you.”

It’s always been you.

Ho-ly shit.

My orgasm is a sneak attack, an explosion that comes on hard and fast. One I can’t hold back. When I reach for his dick to stroke it, to make him come along with me, he lets loose a roar. One brush of my fingers and my hand gets coated in cum.

“Holy fuck, Mike.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You’ve said a lot of fucks tonight. Gonna put yourself in a timeout?”

Dean shakes his head. He has his head sort of half-buried under the pillow again, but he trains one eye on me, and a smile turns up the corner of his mouth. “Worth it.”

My forehead presses against his. “Yeah, it fucking was.” And then, because my filter must have shot out through my dick, I ask the stupidest possible question. “You really don’t want me doing that boyfriend experience?”

He looks away. “I can’t stop you from earning a living.”

The thing is, I don’t need the money that badly. Not anymore.

When we were first starting out, I made mid-five figures some months. I’ve invested well. Driving for rideshare is something extra I do a few times a week. I could do that a little more and probably have enough to cover the basics like rent and food. There’s enough in my investment account to cover my mom’s nursing home for a good while.

Not gonna lie, I like the money and the proximity to power. And there’s a certain satisfaction when I see my bank balance. But nobody can do this job forever.

“Dean…” Shit, this is a mistake. But it’s killing me not to know. “Are you ever going to be ready for me to be something more to you than a fake fiancé? Or the guy who degrades you in the middle of the night when you need to get out of your head?” My arms shake. “Say yes, and I’ll go out there right now and tell Brennan to go fuck my client himself.”

“You can’t do that.” The tear that tracks down the side of his face tells me way too much.

“I would.”

For you.

“I just…” He shakes his head, but he doesn’t finish.