“Like that?” Brandon stroked faster. He wasn’t after a long, languid handjob this morning. One-way trip to an orgasm. Frank was barely even awake, and he was already starting to come unglued as Brandon squeezed him just right, stroked him perfectly, and growled in his ear. “How much you want to bet we end up back here after a shower?”
Frank bit his lip and thrust into Brandon’s hand. This kid was fucking insatiable. Even when he hadn’t had an orgasm yet, he was already thinking ahead to the next time. His stamina was going to kill a man Frank’s age, but what a way to go.
“I was thinking.” Brandon’s voice was shaking slightly with the rapid rhythm of his hand. “Couple of handjobs, and then a shower, and then I fuck you. All before breakfast.”
“Oh bloody hell,” was all Frank could say, and even that barely came out clearly. He felt around for something to grab onto and steady himself, but he didn’t want to disrupt Brandon’s strokes, so he gripped the edge of the bed. With that anchor, he had some leverage, and he thrust harder, and Brandon responded by tightening his grip. This early in the damned morning, barely even conscious, Frank never came quickly—had never really tried to—but he couldn’t help it this time, and he gripped the bed tighter and groaned as he shuddered against Brandon and came over Brandon’s hand.
Before he’d even caught his breath, he whispered, “Your turn.”
Brandon lifted his eyebrow, as if to ask, What’s taking you so long, when Frank slid his left arm around Brandon’s shoulder and held him close enough for a long, playful kiss while he wrapped his hand around Brandon’s cock. He knew that Brandon relished some burn, so he didn’t really bother with lube or spit, just pumped him, slow and steady at first, getting a feel for how exactly he liked it (in bed, not up against a tree), and found that a tight, almost punishing grip worked perfectly, making Brandon gasp and shudder into that long and drawn-out kiss.
Frank drank those moans in, held Brandon tight. And I’ve captured you and I’ll make you come. He briefly glanced down Brandon’s powerful, taut body, the way he dug his heels in, all that long torso and the pattern of his muscles, the skin glowing with exertion as Frank gave what was shaping up to be a champion handjob, somewhere between fierce and possessive and laced with the pain of friction. He’d love cooling it with his tongue, his mouth, to blow over the heated skin and squeeze his balls, but for that, he’d need his other arm free, and there was no way in hell he’d let Brandon go now.
Frank felt him getting closer; the jerky hip movements were a dead giveaway, but regardless of those, he could also read the pattern of Brandon’s breathing, and the heat of those moans. And he wondered for a moment if Brandon could be convinced to switch. He’d love to give Brandon everything he could, and he could play the power game, too. With the right partner, which Brandon seemed to be.
“So strong.” Frank brushed against Brandon’s hungry lips. “So beautiful. Maybe I’ll never let you go. Chain you up and keep you.”
Right then, Brandon came, and came, semen covering Frank’s hand and his own belly.
“Oh my God.” Brandon’s goofy grin as he caught his breath warmed Frank’s heart. “Keep doing shit like that, I might let you chain me.”
Frank felt a momentary pang of . . . of something he couldn’t quite identify, but it disappeared as Brandon raised his head and kissed him.
“I shouldn’t wear you out. You still have to work tonight.”
Brandon grinned and didn’t let Frank pull away. “I’ll just last longer with the johns.”
Okay, that pang was definitely a little bite of jealousy, but Frank shrugged it away. “You and all that youthful stamina.”
“Hey, as long as I’ve got it, I’m going to enjoy it.”
“Good plan.” Frank kissed Brandon’s forehead, and then pushed himself up. “Maybe we should get started on that shower.”
“We should.” Brandon sat up, rolling his shoulders before he reached for the tissues beside the bed. “Sooner we get started, the sooner we get back to bed.”
Frank gulped. Something told him Brandon wasn’t kidding.
Being the enthusiastic lover of a younger guy at the peak of fitness with stamina to burn was amazing, but also a double-edged sword. Hours after they’d left his bed for the second time, Frank sat in one of the booths at Market Garden, wincing at—and savouring—a few lingering aches. Whoever hired Brandon tonight would have his hands full, that was for sure.
Frank chuckled to himself. That was one way to make sure clients were happy. Get those fast, frenzied rounds out of the way, and leave the longer fucks and hard-earned orgasms to the men who paid for them. Being both Brandon’s lover and Stefan’s boss made that a win-win proposition.
His humour faded. The boss fucking his employee, and the man fucking the prostitute. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about either of those things. All he was sure about was how much he loved Brandon’s company and that gorgeous, insatiable body.