Page 105 of Hot Streak

“You still good?” Jackson checked, and as Connor nodded, he lifted a tube from the bed, squeezing a little of the viscous liquid onto his fingertips. Connor swallowed hard as he spread it around his fingers, squishing between them. God, those fingers were going to be inside him. Inside him.

He craved it so bad, even as everything inside him clenched up.

Would it hurt?

But Jackson would make sure it didn’t. He trusted Jackson that much—and more.

“Just breathe, and if at any point you want to stop, you just tell me, alright?” Jackson said. He put his clean hand on Connor’s knee and gently pushed it apart.

That was the last time he was gentle.

Not that he wasn’t careful. Not that he wasn’t thorough.

He was all those things.

But he was also insistent, too. Leaning in and sucking Connor’s cock down like he was born to do it, even as the pads of his fingers caressed him, making him moan and thrash with how fucking long it took him to even slide the tip of a finger inside of him.

By the time Jackson had finally put a whole finger in, Connor thought he might die with how much he wanted it. Jackson kept him right on the edge with teasing sucks of his cock, little licks here and there, as he fingered him, every once in awhile brushing up against a place inside him that made him want to scream.

He didn’t think he could take much more teasing, but then Jackson pushed him further and further, two fingers and then three.

He felt so full, but he wanted more. He wanted Jackson to slick his cock up and just slide it right in, pound him until he didn’t have any choice but to simply explode.

“You good?” Jackson asked again, annoyingly.

“If I was . . .any fucking better . . .” Connor panted. “I’d be coming down your throat.”

Jackson chuckled under his breath and Connor realized then why Tristan had told him this was something he wanted to try at least once. Because Jackson really started fucking him with his fingers, then, hitting that spot every single time, and all it took to send him over the edge was Jackson’s tongue curling around his cock.

Pleasure rushed through him in a dizzying wave and he thought he might’ve shouted, but he certainly made some kind of embarrassing yelp of disbelief. And with Jackson’s fingers twisting and thrusting inside him, his orgasm went on and on, longer than he’d ever experienced before. Deeper and more satisfying than he’d ever imagined.

When it was finally over, Connor collapsed against the pillow, and only had a second before Jackson had a hand around his own cock. A handful of thrusts later, he was coming in long, hot stripes against Connor’s chest, his jaw clenched.

“Shit, that was so fucking hot,” Jackson ground out as he collapsed next to Connor. “I’ve never seen anyone come like that.”

“I’ve never come like that before,” Connor admitted. He’d never even had an inkling that kind of pleasure was possible.

Now that it was over, he felt vaguely sticky and uncomfortable—which wasn’t so much a surprise as an annoyance. Would he be sore in the morning? Connor didn’t think so. Jackson had been so careful with him.

Care had never felt like a particularly sexy attribute to Connor, but it did now.

He felt safe and protected and, also, the freest he’d ever been.

Jackson nuzzled against his shoulder and it was easy to lift his arm so Jackson could get closer still.

Connor wanted to ask him, could you just crawl inside me and stay? He didn’t, because that would be crazy. And because he already knew Jackson couldn’t.

Before tonight, he hadn’t even worried about it.

But now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Coming that hard is supposed to mean you don’t think about anything at all,” Jackson murmured, surprising Connor.

“What?” Jackson continued, his lips curled into a lazy smile, when Connor didn’t say anything. “You were thinking so hard over there it was amazing I couldn’t actually see the words spewing out of your head.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“No poker face whatsoever,” Jackson said, and he sounded amused about it, not angry.

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