Except I do trust John, and despite my efforts to keep my walls in place, sometime in the past several weeks, I lowered them enough for him to climb in. All I have to do now…is let him stay.
Opening my eyes, I meet his pensive gaze, and surrender. “Okay.”
I catch a glimpse of the relief flooding his features before he pulls me in for a sinfully sweet kiss. His lips mold perfectly to mine, forcing drops of water to stream around our sealed mouths, and the light scrape of his stubble sends tingles of electricity flowing south. With his scent in my nose and his body pressed to mine, a wave of indescribable rightness washes over me.
I memorize every detail, permanently branding these seconds into my brain. No matter how this turns out in the future, I don’t want to forget the moment I placed my battered, black heart into the hands of the only man with the power to destroy it. For the first time in my life, I’m…shit, I don’t want to jinx myself, but…I’m actually hopeful. John did that. If I’m not meant to be happy and John’s destined to be my downfall, then I’m going to enjoy every sweet minute of my descent.
Breaking our kiss, he turns the water off, leads me out of the shower, and grabs a bath towel. I go to do the same, but he guides my hand back to my side, silently instructing me not to move. Biting the inside of my lip, I force myself to hold still as he dries me with long, slow swipes over my arms, back, and chest.
It goes without saying that I’m not used to anyone trying to care for me or show me affection. But my badass cop boyfriend has a softer side to him, one that thrives on giving me things such as care and affection. And that means I need to get better at accepting them in our daily life as easily as I accept (by demand) his submission and servitude in our sex life.
Admittedly, letting John tend to me like this doesn’t suck, as evidenced by my cock growing harder in front of his face while he runs the towel down my calves. He glances up my body with a secretive smile but rises without so much as a lick. I frown and contemplate forcing him to his knees to remedy that. But when he presses a quick kiss beneath my jaw, my usual Dom tendencies melt in the face of his tenderness. This is a new dynamic for me, something I’m wholly unprepared for, but one I want to experience with John. So I wait as he dries himself off with a few efficient swipes, then let him lead me again into my bedroom.
Retrieving the bottle of lube from the bedside table, he says, “Lay down on your back.”
I freeze. I’m going to ruin things already, and I fucking hate myself for it. “John, I can’t…” I clear my throat and try again. “I know you used to top, but I can’t bottom for you or even take you in my mouth,” I say thickly. “I wish I could, but—”
“Hey, I don’t care about any of that. You more than make up for any deficits in those areas. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything, I promise.” Running his hands down my arms, he threads our fingers together. “Do you trust me?”
I do. I already admitted it to myself back in the shower. Now it’s time I admit it to him, too. “Yeah,” I answer gruffly. “I trust you.”
“Thank you. Now get on the bed.” With an easy smile, he adds, “Please.”
Filing his mild attitude away to punish him another time—not because he’s earned it since we’re not in our typical roles, but merely because we both enjoy his punishments—I situate myself on my back in the center of the mattress. Then I watch as John crawls over to me like a powerful cat to straddle my hips and sit on my upper thighs.
Trust or not, I can’t help the tinge of anxiety coursing through me. Intimacy has never been a part of my sex life. John was the first person I’d ever allowed in my bed, but even then, our fucking was always about satisfying carnal, deviant desires. And, because I’m me and needed to keep my walls intact, we’ve never had sex face-to-face. But John’s in full wrecking-ball mode and won’t be satisfied until he’s demolished every last brick between us.
Holding my gaze, he pours a stream of lube into his palm before tossing the bottle to the side and gripping my throbbing cock. I suck in a sharp breath as he strokes up my shaft and twists over the flared head. His thumb swipes across the top, taking the bead of pre-cum with it before sliding down to the root of me. I expect him to switch directions again, but he flattens his hand and rubs the lube into my balls as he tugs and rolls them until I’m so damn close to exploding.
Right before I get to the edge, he backs off, then slips his fingers between my thighs. I tense and grit my teeth, bracing for a touch that’s sure to trigger all the bad shit in my head and—
“Shhhh, trust me,” John says soothingly as he stares into my eyes. I lick my dry lips and give him a jerky nod. I’m rewarded a second later when he presses his slick fingertips against my taint—that sensitive place just under my balls that I’ve always restricted during sex so no one was tempted to explore even lower—and massages the nerve-rich area in circular motions.
“Oh fuck.” Blazing pleasure ignites in my belly and draws my balls up tight. An anguished groan is pulled from my chest as I drop my head back to the pillow. Once again, he drags me right to the brink of orgasm, then stops, and I regret introducing him to this brand of torture all those times I edged him.
He starts from the beginning and does it all over again—up, twist, over, down, lower, rub, and repeat. His other hand gets into the action, sometimes working in tandem with the first, sometimes straying in the opposite direction. He makes two hands feel like a dozen, and my stomach muscles are in danger of cramping from the permanent state of contraction.
When I feel the sudden absence of his touch, I lift my head to find him drizzling lube on the length of his shaft. I’m mesmerized as his fist begins to move on his huge cock, making it slick and shiny in just a few quick strokes. Just as I’m about to take over for him, he leans forward, bracing his hands next to my head and starts grinding our cocks together between our bodies.
“Uhn,” he says with a grunt, “fuck that feels good.” Then sinks his teeth into his plump lower lip and gazes into my eyes.
The tenderness swimming in those golden ponds and the sparks igniting at the base of my spine from our carnal friction is a lethal, unfamiliar combination.
Mine, mine, fucking mine.
It’s not the first time that word has rolled through my mind with John, but it’s the first time the claim doesn’t feel twisted up in barbed wires of complications. Cupping the back of his head, I pull him down. He opens for me, and I lick into his mouth, claiming him with every thrust of my tongue as he lays claim to me with every pump of his hips. The vibrations from his moans travel straight to my balls, and the heaven he’s creating with our dicks grinding together is threatening my usual stamina.
“Oh fuck,” I grate out through a clenched jaw and fist his hair. “Want inside that tight ass, baby. Want what’s mine.”
He smiles down at me, and I swear his eyes shine with moisture. “I like hearing you call me ‘baby.’”
It fell so naturally from my lips that I didn’t even notice I said it. This man is unlocking all sorts of things in me tonight, and with each one, the steel band in my chest loosens, allowing me to breathe that much easier. “That’s good,” I say, framing his face and rubbing my thumb over his cheek. “’Cause it seems to be one of my many new things with you.”
John rests his forehead on mine. “I think I’m going to like these new things.”
“I’m glad. But if you don’t put us both out of our misery,” I warn, rocking my hips up to bring his attention back where I want it, “I’m going to do my old thing and take over.” I reach toward the nightstand, but he stops me.
“No more condoms.”
“John—”
“I know you got the results back,” he says. “I saw them. We’re both clean, it’s safe, and I don’t want anything between us anymore. Not emotionally or physically.”
He’s right. There’s no reason we need to still use condoms, so why am I hesitating? Because it’s a way of keeping at least one barrier in place, that’s
why. Jesus, that’s messed up. I’m so sick of my shit screwing things up with him. I don’t know how I’m going to do it or how long it’ll take, but one way or another, I’m going to slay these demons and become the man John believes I am.
“Okay,” I say hoarsely. “No more condoms. Just us.”
He exhales in relief and kisses me, the tip of his tongue barely grazing my lips before he speaks against my mouth. “Thank you.”
Pretty sure that’s my line, but he doesn’t give me the chance to say so. John grabs the bottle off the bed and slicks me up with more lube. My dick gets impossibly harder knowing it’s moments away from sliding into its favorite place. When John reaches behind him to rub lube between his firm cheeks, I resent the limited view from this angle. I fucking love to watch his ass suck my fingers deep inside as I stretch him to take my cock. Then again, getting to watch the expression on his face when he does take me might just top it.
He rises on his knees and starts to guide me into place, but I grab his wrist. “I don’t want to hurt you. Let me get you ready first.”
“James…” My pulse still spikes when he says my name, but it’s quick to even out. There’s too much tenderness in the way he says it to be mistaken for anyone else. He removes my hand from his wrist and settles it on his hip. “I couldn’t be more ready for you or for this moment. I don’t want to put it off for another second.”
With that, he lines me up at his entrance and slowly lowers himself onto my cock. Without the latex, his hot hole sears me with intense pleasure I never knew existed.
“Jesus fuck,” I growl as his ass devours my dick, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated. His pupils are blown with lust, his cheeks are flushed, and his plush lips are parted with shallow breaths. He’s fucking gorgeous, and he’s all mine. “Move, Johnathan. Move now.”
Groaning, he does. With long, measured strokes, he rocks back and forth, grinding himself on my shaft. I feel everything—every nerve, every vein, the flared ridge of my cockhead—all of it being dragged through the tight fist of John’s ass, again and again. My eyes are locked onto my lower stomach where his huge cock rubs along the trail of dark hair that stretches up to my navel. I’m about to reach for him, but he twines our fingers together instead and pushes my hands to the mattress on either side of my head.
My breathing picks up, and my heart starts to pound. My body’s at war, wanting to revel in the mounting rapture of John riding me but expecting my past to pounce on any hint of being restrained.
John lowers his body to mine and stretches our arms higher, staring deep into my eyes. “Shhh, it’s just us here,” he whispers. “Don’t let anyone else in. I’m not holding you down; I’m simply holding you.”
John’s presence proves stronger than my demons, and I feel the chains binding me to those memories finally break and fall away. I know they’ll imprison me again in the morning, but for now, I’m free. Taking a deep breath, I release it slowly and let everything go that doesn’t belong in this moment.
Rolling my hips up to meet his downward thrusts, I start fucking him slow and hard. His face relaxes as he reads the change in me, and his mouth curves up with that easy smile that kills me in the best of ways. “I love you so fucking much, James,” he says reverently.
John’s repetition of my name is gradually dulling its effect. Every time he says it, the spike of anxiety gets weaker and dissipates quicker. Maybe he’s right. Maybe someday I’ll be able to hear my name from someone other than him and not think twice about it. Maybe my name really can become as mundane for me as they are for everyone else. I was trained to react a certain way when I heard it, so with time, it’s possible I can be untrained.
“Say it again.”
His smile grows. “I love you.”
“With my name,” I say gruffly as I squeeze his hands. “Say it again with my name.”
His hips never stop moving as every emotion in his heart flashes in his honey gaze. “I love you, James. I’m yours and you’re mine. No matter what I call you, the name branded on my soul is, and always will be, James.” He presses his mouth to mine, then chants it like a devout prayer. “James, James, James. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
My chest swells with feelings I don’t recognize and can’t label. I never imagined I was capable of anything other than guilt, hate, and for a select few, loyalty. Now I’m flooded with so much more. I don’t know how to say things like John does, but I want to show him as best I can.
Pulling my hands from his, I roll us to the side without losing our connection. My bottom arm cushions his head and wraps around his broad shoulders while my free hand grabs him behind the knee and hikes his leg high onto my hip. I fuck into his tight ass with deep, measured strokes, reveling in the way he moans softly and whimpers with each one.
“I need you to understand something,” I say, injecting a bit of my Dom tone and holding us still to ensure his full attention. “I can’t say those words back to you because it would cheapen them. I’m not capable of love like you are, but what I feel for you is everything I am capable of. I don’t want you to doubt that because I refuse to say something that would amount to empty words from me.”
“I never expected you to say it back. I don’t need to hear the words when I can see your heart just by looking in your eyes.”
Jesus, I don’t deserve this man. But I’m not letting that stop me from keeping him. Not anymore. “Then as of now, I’m claiming you. I’ll be your everything, just as you’ll be mine. My sub, my lover, and my partner. I will fuck you and hold you. Command you and cherish you. Punish you and protect you.”
Unable to hold off any longer, I start to move again. “I held the door open and told you to run. You refused. Now I’m slamming it shut and tossing the key.” I place my mouth at his ear and drop my voice an octave. “For better or worse, Johnathan, you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” he sighs, then buries his face in my neck and groans an “oh fuck” against my skin when my thrusts get harder. I hook his top leg behind my back and slide my hand over his rippling muscles as we move together. I lose all sense of self as the lines where I end and he begins blur and meld. The moisture from our shower has been replaced by sweat as our pleasure mounts. Our lower bodies slam together and pull apart in a steady rhythm. We kiss and suck and bite until the need for air forces us apart.
I spit into my palm and reach between us to fist his cock. He hisses from my tight grip and curses when I start jerking him with rough strokes.
“Come for me, baby.” I piston my hips harder and faster, driving us to our end. “I want to see how you look when I make you soar.”
“James, oh God, I’m close, I—”
His words cut off and his mouth drops open on a silent shout, his entire body contracting with the force of his climax. I watch with satisfaction as ropes of his white cum lash my stomach and chest with every rough upstroke I give him until he’s completely spent. It’s the first time I’ve ever allowed him to mark me, but it sure as fuck won’t be the last.
“Your turn,” he says, framing my face in his big paw. “Come inside me, James. I want to feel you. Claim me. Fill me up until I’m dripping with you.”
“Fuck.” I don’t know what’s hotter—his filthy mouth, the feel of his channel still clenching on my bare cock in pulses as I pound into his tight ass, or my primal need to give him the very thing he’s begging for and brand him as mine from the inside. It’s a lethal combination that sends me hurtling over the edge. Holding him in a vise grip, I press our foreheads together and pump him full of my cum.
“Fuck yeah, baby, take it from me,” I say on a groan that matches his as he squeezes around my dick. “Christ yeah, just like that. Shit, you feel so fucking good.”
We gradually slow our movements until all our energy is gone and neither of us can move. We’re sweaty and sticky and in desperate need of another shower, but it’ll keep until the morning. I also make a mental note to help him scrub off his neck tattoo so he can rep
lace it with a fresh one.
When my softening cock finally slips from him, I muster the strength to press my fingers to his puckered hole; then I say, “Tighten up, Johnathan. There will be times when I want to see your ass dripping with my cum, but tonight, I want everything I gave you to stay right where I put it.” When I feel the ring of muscle close beneath my fingertips, I whisper, “Good boy.”
John’s eyes shimmer with love. I can only hope that he sees something similar in mine. He bites his lip thoughtfully, then says, “This was the best night of my life.”
“Mine, too,” I say honestly. “Now go to sleep.”
I press a kiss to his damp forehead and relax when he sags in my arms and tucks his head under my chin. Tomorrow will be a whole new world of learning how to navigate this new relationship, but tonight, we get to enjoy the bubble a little longer.
“Love you,” he murmurs sleepily.
I think for a second how I can respond, then settle on my truth as it relates to his. “Own you.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
John
“Oh my God, do you want me to get fat?” I stop grating the block of parmesan cheese I was tasked with and stare in horror at the butter melting in the pan held by my boyfriend.
Boyfriend. Every time I look at James, that word swells like a balloon in my mind until it bursts and rains bits of joy all through my body like confetti. It’s only been a few days since we officially became a secret-for-now couple, but aside from all my unsavory duties as a thug, these have been the best days of my life.
As is his standard response to me, James rolls his gorgeous blue eyes. “It’s alfredo sauce. You can’t make alfredo sauce without butter. And even if you could,” he adds quickly, correctly predicting my argument, “I wouldn’t, because it’s fucking wrong.”
Hook (Neverland Novels Book 2) Page 24
