Page 90 of Bi-Partisan

He does the latter, pulling his hand away from his own cock to wrap around my other calf. “Sorry.”

I can’t help warming at that. “No need for apologies. It’s hot that you were so turned on you couldn’t help yourself.” Tenderly, I stroke my thumb along his cheek. “Go get on the bed. I’m going to take care of you.”

“How do you want me?” he asks.

“On your back,” I reply.

He nods and slowly climbs to his feet, wincing slightly as he straightens his knees. He wobbles a little, and I practically jump to my feet to steady him.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” I ask.

“No, I’m alright. Just stiff.”

I spend a moment checking his face for signs of discomfort, then nod. “Okay, on the bed.”

I tuck myself back into my jeans as he lies down. I didn’t expect to, but I’m kind of enjoying the slight bit of power I’m getting from him being naked while I’m clothed. I spend so much of my life feeling out of control. It’s nice to take it, especially when it’s being given so freely. I pull off my sweater, though, leaving me in just a T-shirt and jeans.

When I turn to face the bed, I’m struck by how relaxed into the mattress he is. It’s a far cry from the pure tension that radiated off of him a few hours ago.

“Adrian?” He lifts his head, looking at me through slightly droopy eyes.

“I’m here,” I say, crawling over him. I straddle his hips and kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his tongue.

“You’re still dressed,” he observes once I pull back.

“I like having you at my mercy,” I tease.

A soft whine escapes his lips, and I capture it with a quick kiss.

“Now, I want you to be good and just lie here, okay? I’m going to take care of you, but I want you to trust me.”

“I do,” he replies instantly.

I smile, then dip my head to nip at his neck. I take him apart slowly, mapping his body with my lips until he’s writhing beneath me. If I had a shorter refractory period, I’d probably be hard as a rock again, by now—especially hearing the small whimpers coming from his throat with every brush of my lips on his inner thighs. But I’m honestly content just giving him pleasure. The orgasm earlier was amazing, but my needs aren’t what this is all about.

It’s about his, which is why, after one last bite at his hip bone, I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and suck him down in one smooth stroke.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands flying to my head. His fingers fist my hair, a little hard, but I actually don’t mind the dull ache.

I can tell he’s close to coming, so I pull out all the tricks I know drive him crazy. His breath leaves him in gasps with every swallow and flick of my tongue. Then, when I can feel him about to snap, I hollow my cheeks, sucking hard, and earn a low whine.

“Darlin’, I’m…” he keens, his back arching off the bed.

I lift my head for a second, just long enough to say, “Come, Jamie.” I barely have enough time to swallow him back down before feeling the first burst of salt on my tongue.

He shatters with a broken cry, and I work him through it, swallowing around him as he rides out the waves. When his body finally relaxes back into the mattress, I pull off him with a quiet pop. I look up, expecting to find him looking right back at me, but his head is tipped back to look at the ceiling. His hands go slack in my hair, but stay cradling my head like it’s grounding him. Smiling to myself, I kiss my way back up his body until I reach his face.

It takes him several minutes to come down from his peak. His limbs are even more malleable post-orgasm, so he moves willingly when I pull him into my arms. I hold him close, pressing my lips to his hair, his forehead, his temple.

Eventually, he starts to stir. He stretches a little—the best he probably can without changing positions—then nuzzles into the crook of my neck.

“Hi,” I say, dropping another kiss to his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

He hums happily and reciprocates with a kiss to my collarbone. “I think you broke me a little.”

“In a good or a bad way?”

“Good way. I’ve never come like that in my life. I’m all… floaty,” he says after a beat.

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