Page 145 of The Influencer

Like we’re on a first date, we stare into each other’s eyes, knowing a kiss is meant to come next, but neither of us is sure how to get us there. As though we haven’t kissed a thousand times already. As though this one will be meaningful in some way that all the others weren’t.

I let out a nervous laugh over how long I’ve been stalling. He lifts a hand to my cheek and brushes a thumb across my lips, immediately heating my blood and shutting me up.

We move simultaneously, mouths meeting in the middle, already open and searching.

He grips me by the back of the head and presses his mouth up harder. I welcome the silky, wet glide of his tongue alongside mine and pull him into my arms. His supple body fits itself to me exactly, somehow always managing to make our size difference insignificant.

I want to expose every inch of his skin, drag my mouth and nose through all his perfect contours and stay up all night physically connected to him. I start on his shirt right there in the space between the living room and the kitchen, tugging the hem from his pants and opening the buttons one by one, as fast as my fingers will work. He groans softly when I shove it off his shoulders just before I plant my mouth on the base of his neck.

“Just when I was starting to feel so mature and evolved, now I just want you to bend me over the couch and take me like the needy slut I am,” he says, grinding into my hips.

“Oh, you’re needy now?”

“Uh-huh.”

I do move him over to the couch, walking him there with a firm grip on his hips and take his mouth again. “How needy are you?” I ask as I unfasten his belt.

“I’m so hard, Ash. I need it so, so bad.”

“What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Your cock. Your tongue. In my face. In my ass. And I need your fucking cum. Please give me all your cum.”

“Oh, I fucking plan to.”

Jade lurches for my mouth, tangling my tongue again in a wet, sloppy, obscene kiss that leaves me panting and leaking for him. His lips are bright red and glistening when he pulls away, but even that delicious sight is unable to keep me from staring down at his precum soaked tip. My mouth waters at the sight of the deeply pink flesh stretched taut and shining with arousal.

It’s easy for me to get overwhelmed by Jade’s body. He takes such meticulous care of it. Every minute and dollar he spends on himself shows, but it’s the things he was born with I’m most drawn to. Those nipples, that mouth, this fucking gorgeous cock. Naturally occurring phenomena. The glorious new wonders of my world. Sometimes I’m rough with him because I want to be, and sometimes it’s because I can’t help myself—like now.

I pull his pants down his legs in one quick, aggressive movement, forcing his shoes off along with them. He has to catch himself from falling backwards onto the couch, but I finally have him naked. “I’ve wanted you like this again since the second you came down my throat,” I say, taking in a body that’s so familiar to me now, it really does feel like mine. I even want to possess the flush creeping up his chest at the words I just spoke to him.

He nods, a pained expression on his face. Need. His cock is swollen with it, and his breaths are short. I pull my tie off and fling it to the side, taking in every inch of his flawless skin as I unbutton my shirt. I need lube. About a gallon of it for what I want to do to him, but he’s so pretty right now, his ass perched on the back of the couch, his legs parted, his dick jutting up from his groin, and his balls pulled up just enough that I catch a glimpse of his tight, pink hole.

Some days, in my spare time between clients at the shop, I sketch him from memory. I’ve done this, sometimes consciously, sometimes I don’t even realize I’m drawing him until I’m halfway done, since that day he had a cold. I think about him all the time. Obsess over him. Worry about him. Want him. He’s my favorite.

And the way he’s looking up at me, his jade-green eyes half-lidded with lust, makes me feel like I may just be his, too. I’m reluctant to let him out of my sight, but it’s now or I’ll be risking even more awkwardness later when I can’t let go of him again. “Go grab the lube,” I say.

He doesn’t seem to want to leave me here either, and I would have to say that in terms of having gay sex—lube is the most annoying part of it. Condoms are one thing, but with a cock like mine, lube is non-negotiable, and it’s never close by when I need it.

While he goes to the bedroom to get it, I finish undressing, then settle myself on the couch. As much as I might want to bend him over the back and take him until he’s screaming my name, for tonight, since he was the one drinking, I need to let him lead.

Reappearing in front of me, he holds out the jar of lube and a condom. I part my legs for him to stand between, take the jar and give his cock a few strong sucks—enough to make him gasp and hold onto my shoulders for balance. Taking the condom from his other hand, I toss it to the side.

He gasps again.

Letting his cock pop out of my mouth, I look up at him. “If it’s okay with you…”

“Yes. Fuck, Ash… Oh my God, yes,” he gushes.

“You might regret it.”

He shakes his head. “Never.”

I think what I mean to say is I might regret it. Not because I’m afraid I’ll catch something by going in raw, but these piercings were a twisted, self-destructive work of art I inflicted on myself when I was in so much emotional pain, I couldn’t think of a way out except to have a dirty little secret—one that hurt as much as my loneliness hurt. One that would shock and possibly even disgust.

But I don’t want to hurt him. He shouldn’t suffer because once upon a time all I did was suffer.

“Turn around,” I manage in a whisper.

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