Page 88 of Still Bruised
Foster flipped them, pinning Jude under him. Without thinking, he tensed, ready to flip them back, but he stilled and settled under Foster’s thrusting hips instead. Giving up control wasn’t in him, but he wasn’t the same when he was with Foster.
His dominance was becoming an illusion. He might think he was the one in charge, but it was becoming clearer he wasn’t. Foster held all the cards.
Jude was handing them over one by one.
Fortunately for him, Foster hadn’t abused the fleeting moments when he showed a bit of surrender. Instead of taking, his only focus seemed solely on Jude’s pleasure. He watched Jude’s face, paying attention to the things that felt good. He was generous,seeming to hold back and wait for Jude to come apart under him.
If Foster wanted to see him shatter, so be it.
Jude’s body quivered before an orgasm slammed through him, curling his toes and arching his neck. He bellowed, his cock emptying onto Foster’s, draining him of pretense and rational thought. They slowed their bodies, their gazes still locked. Foster broke it first. He snagged something from the bed—a t-shirt perhaps—and wiped the sweat from Jude’s brow and then did the same for himself.
Jude closed his eyes, unused to being cared for after—though to be honest, he rarely stuck around long enough to give someone the chance.
Foster rolled over onto his back beside Jude and used the t-shirt to wipe away a little of the mess on both of their bodies. Then he dragged Jude closer. Foster drew him into the crook of his arm, their arms and legs entangled in one another’s. He dropped gentle kisses on Jude’s forehead while his heart thundered.
Jude’s ear laid above it, listening. He closed his eyes, ignoring the fact they were cuddling.
It felt too nice to stop.
What the fuck am I doing?
17
“Need some water?” Foster whispered sometime later as Jude drifted closer and closer to sleep.
Jude didn’t want to move—nor Foster to move—but his mouth was as dry as a desert.
“Please,” Jude croaked, voice low.
After Jude moved his arm and leg, Foster slowly rose and padded naked to the kitchen. Jude smiled, enjoying the view. On his way back, Foster took a small gulp for himself. When he reached the edge of the bed, he handed the rest over.
“Thanks,” Jude said, struggling with the emotions taking up too much space within him.
“Welcome,” Foster said, a soft, sexy smile on his lips. He walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light. He reappeared a couple of minutes later with a damp washcloth he used to clean Jude’s stomach and cock.
“You know, Icanclean myself up.”
Foster grinned. “I like doing it.”
“So, you’re a service top, hmm? I thought so.”
“I don’t know what that is,” Foster said. “Considering I’m repaying a debt, Ishouldbe of service though, hmm? Maybe it’ll knock a little off my total.”
“In a hurry to get rid of me?”
Foster’s gaze flicked to his. “No. I’m not.”
The magnetic pull between them was palpable, as if Foster had lassoed him and was tugging them closer every single time they were together.
Foster chuckled. “Maybe I’ll have to figure out the least terrible thing I can do to add some more time to my sentence.”
“So now you’re inprison?”
“Stop,” Foster muttered before he glared Jude’s way. “I’m here of my own free will.”
“That’s not completely true,” Jude said.
Foster met his stare. “It is.”
