“Seriously? Good,” I say. “I’m gonna enjoy havin’ this thing inside of me.”
Jameson groans lowly, his hand flexing around my shaft. “Shit, Blue.”
“I mean,” I amend, “if you might be into that.”
He huffs an affirmative, nodding his head.
“Okay, good. We’re definitely gonna do that, then. But right now,” I say, toes curling as Jameson resumes his ministrations on my sensitive cockhead, squeezing it in a way that reminds me of a swallowing throat, “please make me come just like this. I needa come, Jamie.”
Jameson nods again before snagging my mouth. I part my lips, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue meeting mine, stroking over me like his thumb is doing to my dick. His moan, or mine, I’m not sure, gets lost between us, urgency taking over at all the points we’re connected. Tongues duel, bodies rut, and Jameson’s fist moves fast over my length. I match his speed, my hand bumping my own erection and occasionally Jamie’s knuckles through the cotton of his sweats. We’re so close together, just a thin layer of fabric separating us, but I’m too far gone to bother removing the obstacle. I focus on making a slick, tight ring for Jameson to fuck, and when his warm breath hitches against my mouth and his pace starts to falter, I suck on his tongue and twist my hand toward his crown.
With a beautifully tortured groan, he releases all over my fist.
I’m so close myself, teetering on that edge, and as soon as Jameson recovers from his high, he drops his face against my neck, sucking roughly against the tendon there. It’s an excruciating bliss, that spot so sensitive under the onslaught of bristling stubble and unrelenting suction, and I jerk hard, curling into Jameson’s hold as I come. He moans against my skin, continuing to stroke me slowly, his tongue laving my neck all the while. And he doesn’t stop until I start to squirm, the sensations becoming too much.
When he releases me after one more press of his mouth to my skin, he lifts his head and meets my eye. There’s stickiness between us, both of us are breathing heavily, Jameson’s hair is in disarray, and I’m sure mine’s much the same. But he holds my gaze for a long moment, as if seeing something he’s not quite ready to part with. And then finally, he leans down, feathering a kiss against my lips.
When he speaks, his words are not what I’m expecting. “Yeah. I love your dick.”
I burst out laughing, and Jameson falls against me, his heavy weight and shaking chest a blanket I’d welcome any day.
Despite the near-crushing pressure, I can’t remember the last time I felt this light.
Chapter 13
Jameson
When I wake to a warm body pressed against my front, I’m certain I’m dreaming. Then last night floats to the surface of my mind.
Definitely not a dream.
I have a smile on my face as soon as I open my eyes, but when I realize exactly how much of my body is atop Bo, that smile slips, and I try to roll away.
“Nuh-uh,” they say, reaching back and slapping my side. “Get back here.”
“You sure?” I ask. “I was squishing you.”
“’S’good,” they mumble, face pressed against the pillow. They slap my side again.
Leaning forward, I blanket myself back over Bo’s body, and when they release a sigh, I let go of my weight.
“This is comfortable for you?” I say into Bo’s hair, more than a little amused. I’m almost entirely on top of them.
They nod ever so slightly.
“Mkay,” I mumble, running my hand along Bo’s arm until I find their hand and then threading my fingers with theirs. They give me a squeeze. “Have anything planned today?”
“You’re a mornin’ person?” Bo asks, not sounding particularly happy with that fact.
“I wouldn’t call this morning,” I note. A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand confirms it’s nearly eleven. “Okay, well, it’s technically morning. But not early.”
“You’re arguin’ semantics first thing when you wake up. You’re a mornin’ person.”
“Guess so,” I say with a chuckle.
Bo groans. “At least you don’t snore.” They exhale before humming in a contemplative manner. “No, I don’t have any plans before work.”
Good. We’re in no rush, then.