Page 26 of Mine

I mock-gasp. “You’re a sadist.”

He shrugs. “In some ways, yes. Does that excite you?”

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, teeth sinking in. The buzz beneath my skin grows, body flooding with warmth. “In some ways, Sir. Does that excite you?”

“You’re going to be trouble.” Marsh chuckles, but then I see the reality of who we are to each other flood his eyes, and he sobers.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell him.

“Will it, though? I’ll lose my brother if he finds out about this.”

Guilt drops weight in my gut, all of me suddenly feeling too heavy. “I’m sorry. I know I pushed for this. I really want it, but I don’t want you to be hurt either. If you truly want to put an end to things, if you feel pressured in any way, we can stop right now. I won’t harass you about it anymore.”

He watches me, an expression on his face I can’t read, then sighs. Marsh steps closer, reaches out, and holds my chin. “I want you. I wanted you the whole time we were talking online, and I’ve wanted you every moment of the last two weeks. I can’t wait to make you cry for me…make you come for me.”

“Yes, Sir,” I say, cock already going hard. I want to kiss him, to taste him, to sit between his legs and suck his cock all day, but I try to be patient, waiting for Marsh to tell me what to do next.

“What is your safe word?”

“Let’s go with red.”

“Come inside.” Marsh moves out of the way, and I do as he says. He closes the door behind me. “Take off your shoes, then kneel for me.”

“Yes, Sir.” My skin prickles with excitement, the spinning thoughts from earlier now quiet.

I take off my sneakers, then get onto my knees, wishing I was naked for him, wishing he was naked for me. Nervous, yet enjoying the fact that I don’t know what will happen today, thatI’m not in control—and it’s not because I’m too weak or can’t make decisions myself; it’s not because my choices are wrong or not good enough, but because I want to hand that control over to Marsh, and that’s the best kind of high.

“You look beautiful down there, sweet boy. I’ve seen it over and over in my head since walking out of that coffeehouse…and even when I hate myself for it, I can’t stop hoping for it.”

“Whenever you feel that way, remind yourself that you’re giving me what I need…that you’re taking care of me. Because I know you will, Sir. You’ll take such good care of me, and I’m so glad it’s you.”

I swear fire blazes in his eyes, heat radiating off him, and I’ve never in my life wanted to burn for someone more than I do right now.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Marshall

It’s difficult toturn off my guilt, but seeing JT on his knees, looking up at me prettily, those big blue eyes of his brimming with need I want to fulfill, there are a million things I want to show him, to teach him, to see him do for me. And as much of an asshole as that makes me, it helps mute the voice telling me I shouldn’t be doing this with him.

“Crawl for me. I don’t want you to leave your knees today unless I tell you to.”

“Yes, Sir,” he replies, and damned if I don’t see the eagerness in him, if I don’t see how much this is giving him, though we both know it’s not nearly enough for either of us.

I walk into the living room. I’ve placed both lube and a condom on the end table by the couch, not knowing if I’ll need either but wanting to be prepared.

JT follows behind me. I sit on the couch. “Kneel between my legs.”

“Yes, Sir.” He settles down and looks up at me.

“What were you thinking when you were pacing outside?”

He frowns, and I can tell that’s not what he expected me to ask. “Um…well, I was debating if I should come to the door early or not. Was it disobeying you if I came straight to your house? Or would arriving early show you how much I want to be good for you?”

That easily, my cock twitches. Just that simple reply gets a reaction from me, and I’m still trying to work through why thatis. I’ve done this too many times to count, yet I almost feel like a newbie with JT.

“How about if we agree on a five-minute leeway if we do this again? You’re allowed to arrive no more than five minutes early, but you can’t be late at all. It pleases me that you’re so excited to give yourself to me, but I don’t accept lateness. Unless it’s an emergency or unavoidable, that tells me you don’t respect my time. If you’re late, you get punished.” Why am I speaking to him as if it’s guaranteed this will happen again? It’s supposed to be a one-time thing.

JT grins, and I chuckle.

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