My pulse races as he grips the neck of my T-shirt with both hands. I brace myself for the forceful yank, but it never comes. Holding my gaze, he begins to slowly rip the thin cotton, dragging out the anticipation, shredding my patience along with my shirt. The sound of the fabric rending in two mixes with the roar of blood in my ears and the huffs of my quickening breaths. For every inch of my chest and stomach he exposes, my core temp ticks up another degree. When he finally gets through the bottom hem, he pushes the torn shirt off my shoulders and lets it fall forgotten to the floor.
Walking around, he secures my wrists behind my back with my handcuffs. Instinctually, I test my limited mobility. The clinking of the metal chain between the bracelets drives home the fact that I’m completely at his mercy, and fuck that turns me on.
His right hand snakes around the front of my throat and claims me as he squeezes, the smooth metal of his thumb ring pressing against my racing pulse. “As of tonight, Darling,” he rasps at my temple, “you’re fucking mine.”
I let out a long sigh. “Finally.”
James bites the shell of my ear, then keeps his face next to mine to peer down my body as his hands begin to roam. Long, graceful fingers travel over the peaks and valleys of my pecs and abs. They alternate between soft, grazing touches and hard scrapes from blunt nails across my sensitized, tattoo-free skin that mark me with his ownership in reddened furrows.
One second he’s lightly thumbing my nipples and the next he’s gripping and twisting until he rips a groan from deep in my belly. My cock is so hard and my balls so tight I’m in physical pain. The need to beg is almost unbearable, but I bite it back. Barely.
As though sensing my struggle, James makes it impossible for me to say a word. He grabs my jaw and turns my face for his domineering kiss, thrusting his tongue against mine in a mouth fuck so filthy it needs its own NC-17 rating. His taste of clove cigarettes, bad decisions, and dirty sex is drugging, and I hope I never come down from this high.
He presses his hips forward, grinding his jeans-covered erection into my restrained hands. I eagerly rub the thick length of him, wishing the material would disappear, needing to feel him skin to skin. He must have the same need because suddenly he makes short work of undoing his belt and fly. A second later we groan in tandem when his perfect cock is freed into my palms and I lavish him with long, firm strokes.
Growling, he breaks our kiss to lick and bite his way over my stubbled jaw and down my neck, lighting me on fire. “That’s it, Darling. Get reacquainted with it. The veins, the ridges, the fat head. Because I’m about to destroy you with every fucking inch.”
“Oh Christ,” I choke out. I know every millimeter of his cock intimately. I’ve worshipped him with my mouth every chance I got. Giving James head has become a constant craving. “Turn me around so I can suck you off. Let me—”
“No.”
I clench my jaw so I don’t do something monumentally stupid like complain or call him a controlling bastard just to get a rise out of him. Another time it might be fun to push his buttons and see what kind of punishments I can earn, but I need him too damn badly right now. I’ve been waiting weeks for him to take things all the way with me; I’m not screwing it up now.
As he finally reaches down to undo my jeans, I hold my breath in anticipation. Pants and underwear are shoved down past my ass, and the air in my lungs wheezes out as my painfully hard erection is given relief for the first time in hours.
He spits into his palm, the filthy act triggering a wave of arousal in me like one of Pavlov’s dogs. James has a thing for marking me. With his teeth. His nails. His saliva. His scent. His cum. I fucking love it. I want him to brand me as his, I want his essence flowing in my veins and coating my skin until there’s no denying who I belong to.
With his spit-slickened palm he grabs my dick and gives it a single rough tug. My body bows on a gasp. “Oh fuck.” When he ventures lower to squeeze my balls, my head drops back on his shoulder and my legs give out. The thick arm banded around my stomach is all that stops me from collapsing to the floor before I regain my strength.
“Don’t even think about coming this soon, Darling. Get your shit under control and hold it. That orgasm is mine, it belongs to me, and I want to feel it when I’m lodged deep inside your ass. You hear me?”
I groan. “Yes, Captain.” I have no confidence in my ability to follow that order. The way he’s working me over, I’ll be lucky to last another minute. But I’m sure as hell going to try because the thought of clenching around his thick shaft as I come is my new idea of heaven.
“Look at you.” I follow his gaze to where his large hand is slipping up and down my shaft. Every time he slides past the ridge and twists on the head before sinking back to the root, lightning crackles in my balls. “How long has this huge cock been hard for me, Darling?”
“Years, Captain,” I admit freely. “Fucking years.”
James growls into my neck, continuing to stroke me off. “I like knowing that. That you’ve wanted me for so long. I know that makes me an evil bastard, but I don’t care.”
“You’re only evil if you don’t fuck me like we both want.”
“You say that now. We’ll see if you still feel that way after I ruin you.”
His words are slightly pensive, and I wonder if he’s referring to the mind-blowing sex we’re about to have, or if he’s making predictions about our future. About what happens when this case is over and we’re no longer tied together by our common goals and forced proximity.
I want to tell him that I’m not going anywhere. That after everything is over, I have no intention of giving him up. I’ve run the gamut of lovers the past decade—everything from one-night stands to long-term boyfriends—and none of them can hold a candle to this complex, impossible-to-label thing I have with him.
I’d rather be ruined by James Hook than be safe with anyone else.
But he doesn’t give me a chance to say any of that. Pressing down between my shoulder blades, he bends me forward until the side of my face is planted on the cushion of his chair. With my bound hands resting on my back and my ass in the air, I stare up the line of my body at him looming behind me.
He kicks my feet out as far as they’ll go with my jeans still bunched above my knees. His hands begin to roam, creating random patterns over my back, cheeks, and thighs. I revel in the feel of his rough touches, the feel of a man in control. The way his calluses abrade my skin and lightly pull at my body hair, the intermittent possessive digging in of his fingers into my muscles, the teasing of his thumbs as they skirt around the one place I desperately want him to touch.
“Mmm, Darling.” Keeping his gaze locked with mine, he sticks his forefinger in his mouth, then runs the wet digit down my seam and over my tight hole, forcing a groan from my chest. “You look good enough to eat. And I’m starved.”
Then he crouches down, and the absence I feel at losing sight of him is replaced with a blast of lust when his tongue laps a long line between my cheeks. I suck in a sharp breath and barely have time to release it before he’s rimming my puckered hole with his tongue. He adds more pressure, then more, until he breaches that tight ring and delves inside.
“Jesus fuck,” I say hoarsely. “Christ, that feels so good.”
The growl he makes as he feasts on my body hums through me like electric currents, and I moan in ecstasy. I wish I watch him eating at me, wish I could look him in the eyes as he fucks me with his mouth and nips my flesh with his teeth. But all I can do is feel and hear. Feel the hot swipe of his tongue up my hypersensitive taint, hear him spit, feel the lash of his saliva on my crease before feeling the blunt tip of his finger rubbing it in.
“Please, Captain,” I say, pushing my ass back against the pressure.
The hard smack of his hand on my cheek sends fiery pleasure right to my cock, and I press my face into the cushion to muffle my moan. “Hold still.”
He teases me some more, testing my resolve and waiting for me to screw up again.
But as much as I loved the correction, I want penetration even more, so I don’t move a muscle. Unless you count the trembling from needing to come more than I need my next breath.
“Good boy, Johnathan.”
His praise soothes me, and I’m suddenly confident I can hold out forever as long as he repeats those three simple words. But then I hear what sounds like a snap top on a plastic bottle and impatience buzzes through me once again because I know what’s coming. Sure enough, I hiss between my teeth as the cold lubricant hits its mark. My devil chuckles as he spreads it around, but then grows serious.
“Tell me you want this, Darling. Tell me you want my fingers fucking your ass, stretching you open and getting you ready for my cock.”
I don’t hesitate. “I want it. I want it so goddamn bad.”
“Then open for your Captain,” he says, his voice gravelly with lust. “Open and let me in.”
Finally—fucking finally—James pushes a single lubricated finger inside my ass in one slow motion. My eyes nearly roll back in my head at the familiar burn, and the pleasure only increases with every thrust. My jeans are low enough that he’s able to reach between my legs with his free hand, and while he fucks me with that unrelenting finger, he tugs on my sac and rolls my testicles in his palm.
“Ah shit, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” I grunt.
“No, you won’t. You won’t come until I tell you to.”
His confidence adds another layer of lust onto all the others, and I have to focus on taking deep breaths to hold off my climax. It works, too, until he drizzles more lube onto my asshole and adds a second finger. Then a third. He scissors them inside me as he moves in and out, working me open more and more. I do a lot of moaning and begging and praising and swearing, but none of it fazes him. He has a plan, and no matter what I say or do, he’s going to do things at his pace, just like he said.
When I think I might die from it all, he pulls out, and stands up. In a voice tight with unleashed restraint, he says, “It’s time.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hook
Darling’s gonna kill me, I swear to fucking Christ.
I take a deep breath in through my nose to compose myself before I plunge into him without a second thought. I refuse to let my lust-driven need to sate myself in his ass put him at risk or hurt him in any way. If anything, my adult sex life has been sporadic and atypical. Choosing to keep my preference for dick under wraps (the men who follow me would see it as a weakness, and I can’t afford that in my position) meant a lot of unsatisfying hookups with women and only the occasional anonymous fuck with random guys in other counties I found on gay hookup apps.
While the encounters did more for me than my own hand would, none of them were even a fraction of what it feels like being with John. With or without the tattoos, the man is drop-dead sexy. His body is a temple built with brick upon brick of solid muscle. I want to worship every single one of them with my tongue, test their firmness with my teeth. His cock is a work of fucking art, long and thick and deliciously veined. I’m big, but he’s downright huge with the slightest curve north when he’s hard, like it’s straining for what it wants. Like it’s straining for me.
I retrieve the condom from my wallet and tear the foil packet with my teeth.
“Captain, if…” He pauses, then bites his lower lip.
“Out with it, Darling.”
“If you’ve always been safe before,” he says hesitantly, “I’d be okay skipping the condom.”
Shiiiiit. The idea of sinking bare into this man has my cock twitching and cum leaking from the tip. But it also pisses me off that he’d be so careless with himself. Grabbing the chain of his cuffs and one of his shoulders, I haul him up straight, then grip his jaw to turn his head. Narrowing my eyes on him, I speak low and clear.
“I’ve always used protection, but that’s beside the point. Men will tell you anything you want to hear to skip the rubber. How many times have you let someone fuck you without a condom?”
“Never, it’s just…” he says, pausing to lick his lips. “I’ve wanted this for forever. I want to feel you so fucking bad.”
Ah, hell. That instantly banks my anger, and I can’t stop myself from crushing our mouths together in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. I love the way his stubble scrapes against my lips and rasps beneath my fingertips. He tastes of beer and mint gum and him, and the combination is enough to get me drunk without a single drop of alcohol.
Tearing myself away, I reach down to grab his swollen cock and heavy balls together in my large hand and then I squeeze. He gasps and holds his breath, no doubt trying not to shoot his load before he’s given permission.
“I wasn’t planning on telling you until I got the results, but I had tests run at the clinic a couple days ago. If they come back that I’m clean, there will be no stopping me from fucking you bare. Until then, we use a condom. And the next time you’re so flip about your safety or well-being—and that goes for any situation, Darling, not just sex—I’ll tie you to my bed and whip your ass with my belt until my arm gives out. Are we clear?”
His golden eyes melt as he nods. “Yes, Captain. Thanks for taking care of me.”
The tenderness radiating from him winds through me like slithering vines seeking out the black thing behind my ribs. Before I can cut them down, they wrap themselves around the barely beating mass again and again, until its completely cocooned in every soft feeling I’ve ever avoided.
No one’s gotten to me as much as this man has. And for the first time in my life, I wonder if it’s possible for my heart to emerge from this as something different…something alive and strong with a reason to keep beating long past this mission.
“Back into position, Darling.”
He releases a groaning breath when I let go of his junk and push his shoulders down until the side of his face rests on the chair cushion again. I sheath my cock in record time and work a generous amount of lube all over my shaft. He still has plenty for me to enter without a problem, but my Johnathan likes it when I’m filthy, so I bend down and spit directly on his crack.
“Ah shit yes,” he hisses.
When I use my thumb to rub the splotch of saliva around his puckered hole, he moans and arches his ass up, chasing my touch. Naughty boy. I grin like the devil I am and capitalize on his small infraction with a hard smack to one round globe. He shudders on a groan, and I watch with immense satisfaction as my red handprint appears like magic.
“Goddamn, I like seeing my marks on you,” I growl.
“Me too— Oh fuck.”
Oh fuck is right because I just pressed the crown of my dick to his tight hole and the heat kissing my tip has me sucking in a sharp breath. He clenches his cuffed hands and tries to reposition them at the small of his back. With the angle of his body and the sheen of sweat coating his skin, gravity is causing them to slide toward his shoulder blades, which can’t be comfortable. Like before, I grip the chain between the metal bracelets. But instead of pulling him to stand up, I rest my fist at the base of his spine, relieving him of that added strain.
Once I see the muscles in his arms and shoulders relax, my focus returns to the spot my whole world is narrowing down to. Christ, he feels like heaven already, and I’m not more than a finger-width inside. Keeping the pressure steady, I slowly push past the ring of muscle trying to keep me out with the fat head of my cock.
“Jesus, you’re big,” he grunts.
I nearly snort because I’m nothing compared to him. I can only assume there’s a slew of men permanently split in two from taking his weapon of mass destruction in their asses. Then I slam the door on that thought because thinking of John with anyone else makes me itch to set shit on fire.
I know from our cursory discussion about his past relationships that John’s had a healthy sex life since coming into his own in high school. A fact that would’ve fueled my jealous loathing of him before…well, before. Admittedly, there’s still a part of me that’s jealous of his trauma
-free upbringing, but I’m also glad he’s not new at this. Though he said he’s always been a natural top, he’s also been the occasional bottom, so I don’t have to worry about handling him with kid gloves. And the fact that he’s never had anyone as big as me goes a long way in soothing my ego.
“You can take me,” I tell him. “You know what to do. Exhale and push out.” He does, and the head of my cock finally slips past the tight ring, giving me unfettered access to bury myself to the hilt in his ass. We groan in tandem as I bottom out, my heavy balls smashed against his taint. “Good boy,” I grate, holding my position while he adjusts to the invasion. I take deep breaths through my nose and count to five. I can’t wait any longer than that. “Tell me you’re ready, goddamn it. Tell me to ruin you.”
“I’m so fucking ready. Please, Captain, I need you. Fuck me, ruin me. Make us feel good, please please ple—”
I pull out and slam back home; then I repeat the motion over and over and over. His cries of pleasure and strings of curses urge me on like a crop slapped to the flank of a racehorse. Keeping hold of the handcuffs with one hand, I grip his hip with the other and pull him to meet my every thrust. The sounds of our slick flesh smacking together, our grunts and growls and filthy words, our heaving breaths and hissing gasps—all of it creates a soundtrack worthy of an award-winning porn flick, and I’ve never been so fucking turned on in all my life.
There’s nothing hotter, nothing tighter, than Johnathan Darling, and he’s all mine, mine, mine. I want to lose myself in his body, I want to make it my home. I want to cover myself in his scent after every shower so I always smell like him. I want to brand him into my skin so he’s forever a part of me, even after I inevitably fuck things up and he walks out of my life.
But that reality check is a kick to the nuts I don’t need right now, so I push it from my mind. What I need is more of him. Always more. More, more, more. Pulling him up, I slip one arm through his to wrap it around his barrel of a chest and my other hand drops down to his cock. I gather his pre-cum on three of my fingers, hold them up so he can see what I do to him, then growl my command in his ear.
Hook (Neverland Novels Book 2) Page 17
