Page 95 of The Play

Grant hadn’t ever imagined being called baby would nearly make him come in his pants, but that was how deep he was.

All the way in, and he wasn’t looking to ever climb out.

Grant made a noise he didn’t even think Deacon could decipher as a word, but he must’ve agreed, because he hummed in unison.

“Unbuckle your belt. Unzip your pants. Take them off. All the way off,” Deacon said, when Grant scoffed in disbelief.

But he did it anyway. Because that was where he was, at this point. Blindly willing to follow anything that might bring him the orgasm already building inside him.

“You good now?” Deacon asked.

“Yes,” Grant said. The minute he’d taken to get undressed had pulled him back from the edge a little.

His cock was still red and twitching just against the air. If he touched himself, he was going to come all over his stomach.

But he waited for Deacon’s instructions instead of just grabbing the pleasure.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Deacon groaned. “Thinkin’ about it, right now. You all spread out in front of me. Wanna make you come again and again.”

“Just once would be good,” Grant retorted.

“Touch your cock. Slowly. Gently. Not as much as you want to. And stick your other fingers into your mouth. Get them nice and wet for me.”

Grant did it, groaning around them. Knowing what was coming.

“You sore?”

He had been, a little. But in the best kind of ways.

Not so sore he didn’t want more. Didn’t crave more.

He told Deacon that and was pleased to hear Deacon stumble over his next words. It felt so freaking good that it wasn’t just him who was so affected.

“Just one finger, just a little. Just want you to feel it when you come. Want you to know what it felt like when you came around my cock so good last night.”

Grant sobbed a little as he shifted down in the chair, twisting his body so he could do as Deacon requested.

The press of his finger, even wet with saliva, burned a little.

But it felt good too as he fisted his cock with his other hand and listened to Deacon’s breathing change.

He was close.

And Grant was right there with him, balancing on the knife’s edge.

“I’m so close,” he forced out, twisting his finger deeper. Feeling his body clench around it.

“Me too,” Deacon echoed. “You gonna come all over your chest? Wish I was there to lick it up after?”

That was all it took.

Grant exploded, pulse after pulse of come landing on his stomach and striping up his chest. The orgasms last night had been so intense, like they’d been practically wrung out of him.

But this was somehow even better—and they hadn’t even been in the same room.

Dimly, he heard Deacon groan once, hard and intense, and his breathing went uneven as he came right along with him.

“Shit,” Deacon muttered. “God, that was so hot. I almost wish tomorrow night we could do that again.”

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