Page 15 of Knot Your Business

Jasper’s hold tightens on my wrists, his teeth biting into my neck, and I arch under him. He hums as I grunt, holding back the noise I know he’s waiting for. He shakes his head and sighs. His mouth drifts lower down my chest and belly until he traces my hip bone with his tongue.

My dick aches, but I keep my mouth closed, my breathing unaffected.

This game that we play is one of my favorites, and I’m not about to let it end too quickly. Control is something I have in abundance.

“We have three perfectly good bedrooms,” Rylan mutters.

Jasper looks up, his lips leaving my skin. The view the movement gives of his chest and thighs? That control slips through my fingertips, and I let the moan slip out. He squeezes my wrist even as his lips quirk into a knowing smirk.

“We’re watching a movie,” he says, completely serious.

I grunt and arch up into him, letting my dick press into his stomach. He wraps his free hand around my neck, pressing in with the slightest pressure. My dick jumps, and the pressing forward of his hips tells me he felt it, too.

“Tesoro,” I murmur.

Rylan laughs, the sound echoing off the high ceiling and wall of windows overlooking the ocean. “A movie. With the TV off and your shirt thrown halfway across the house. Sounds convincing.” His voice is laced with dry amusement, and I smirk.

Jasper laughs and shrugs before pulling away from me, his hands running down my chest as he sits back on his knees. “I got distracted. You have a recording session tonight?”

It’s Thursday, so not the typical schedule Rylan has with one of the local recording studios. Both of them already have double rehearsals with the philharmonic, so he tries to push things out to other evenings if possible.

“Duty calls,” he murmurs.

Jasper pouts, his shoulders dropping. There’s the soft tapping of Rylan setting down several items before the click of his shoes on the hardwood. His shadow falls over the large sectional before I can actually see him where I’m still laying across the cushions, held mostly immobile by Jasper straddling my thighs.

Rylan leans over the back of the couch, running his hand through Jasper’s blond hair and pulling him closer until their lips just touch. Just like that, our game is forgotten, my lover seamlessly handing control of the play over to us. I palm Jasper’s thighs, letting my fingers trace up the seam of his sweats until I can hook them in the waistband. His breath hitches, and I grin. Rylan’s scent explodes from him, filling the space around us with its citrus undertones. Mine is much more subtle, the rut suppressor keeping it from being so all-consuming. I’ll be the last to admit it, but the two scents complement each other, his lighter citrus to my darker. There’s an irony there, I’m sure.

Jasper’s chest shudders with his panting, a palm flat against each of us. He watches Rylan with a half-lidded gaze, his cheeks flush with color. He’s gorgeous.

“Cazzo, sei perfetto, Tesoro.”

The praise falls from me before I even realize I’m going to say it.

Jasper groans, his hips lurching forward, his cock nudging against my hand. Rylan laughs again, deep in his throat, before claiming our lover’s mouth and twisting a hand into his hair to force the kiss deeper. Nights like this? This is what I’ve longed for, what I went against my father and the blood-soaked legacy laid at my feet to achieve.

“Please,” Jasper gasps between kisses. “Oh, fuck, please.” He writhes in my hold, and I move to cup him, letting his length fill my hand as I stroke him from tip to root and back. My own cock jumps at the strangled noise he makes.

“I’m going to be late,” Rylan says, resigned acknowledgement threading through his voice. His grip tightens on Jasper’s hair as he runs his lips over his jaw before biting into his neck. Jasper shudders.

It’s enough permission for me.

I have Jasper’s sweats halfway down his thighs when the doorbell rings and my phone buzzes with the camera notification.

Jasper’s groan this time is full of frustration, and I echo it with my own.

“I’ll grab it,” Rylan says, already turning away from us before I can even let go of Jasper.

I sit up, kissing under Jasper’s ear the moment I’m close enough. Rylan’s voice is a low thrum through the room but too indistinct to hear exactly what’s being said. The thread of surprise is easy enough to hear, though. Jasper frowns, lacing our fingers together as he adjusts to sit beside me. The door closes, and Rylan’s steady stride eats away the distance. I glance over my shoulder.

“What the fuck is that?” I ask.

Rylan has a nondescript envelope in his hand, a shell-shocked look on his face. Like the person at the door delivered terrible news. My gaze narrows on the envelope as he holds it up for both of us to see.

“That was a Council intern,” he says after a minute.

Accidenti.

“We were hardly even there,” Jasper says, rounding the edge of the sofa and taking the envelope from Rylan’s limp grasp. He has it torn open and the pages unfolded before I can even get across the room to them.

---