One more kiss—oh hell, three more—and they pulled apart. With shaking hands, they shed their clothes, leaving them on the floor and not giving a damn what fell where, and, still kissing and holding on to each other, they moved toward the bed. Blake dragged him down onto the mattress with him. The bed was small, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t need space now, especially not with Jason on top instead of beside him.
Though Jason needed to hold himself up, Blake’s hands were free to roam, and he explored every inch of Jason’s body as if he’d never touched him before. Muscles contracted beneath his fingertips. Goose bumps sprang up. Jason rubbed his hard cock against Blake’s, and both of them were reduced to short gasps in between kisses. Now and then, a moan would break the kiss completely, but they’d quickly find each other’s lips again.
Blake cradled the back of Jason’s head. If any doubts had existed in the back of his mind, if he’d had any lingering question about his feelings after Jason had walked away last night, they evaporated now. Blake had gotten attached to prostitutes before, been disappointed when they’d moved on, but the emotions that rushed through him each time he touched Jason were in a world of their own. A huff of breath on his skin, or the warmth of flesh beneath his fingertips, or the familiar softness of Jason’s lips—every tiny point of contact was like a reminder that Jason wasn’t a phantom who’d vanish if Blake closed his eyes for too long. He was real. This was real. Neither of them was going anywhere, and nothing here was an act or a transaction.
Money or not, they couldn’t have cheapened the moment if they tried. This was worlds apart from any night they’d spent together. There was no money, no power play, no games—only relief. Even Blake’s bone-deep fatigue couldn’t stop him from responding to Jason’s touch.
Blake held Jason close, and with his body weight, shifted both of them so Jason landed gently on his back, and now Blake was on top. He lifted himself up onto his arms. First with fingers, then with lips, he traced the planes and contours of Jason’s body all over again, savoring the warmth and salt of his skin.
He kissed his way back up to Jason’s mouth, and Jason threw his arms around him. They were both panting now, not just kissing, but grinding together, clawing at each other. Blake pulled Jason’s head back and kissed his neck, breathing him in and tasting him as he moaned and wriggled between Blake and the mattress.
“Blake,” Jason whispered. “Come up . . . come up here.”
Blake lifted his head, and Jason pulled him into another kiss, and the second he’d pressed his lips to Blake’s, all the thrusting and stroking and touching slowed. And then stopped. And then disappeared.
It didn’t matter to him if Jason had sex with other men, because this was his. This was theirs.
“Fuck me,” Jason whispered.
“Do you have—?”
“Plenty.” Jason pointed at the nightstand.
They both sat up, and Jason pulled condoms and lube from the nightstand drawer. As Blake rolled on the condom, he glanced at Jason, and they both grinned.
“Turn around,” Blake said. “I want to fuck you hard.”
Jason licked his lips. “Please do.” He got up on his hands and knees, and after Blake had put on some lube, he knelt behind him. As Blake eased himself in, Jason cursed. Blake would’ve if he’d had enough breath—holy fuck, he’d missed this. The view, Jason’s quiet little moans interspersed with profanity that was so very British—and he wanted to take his time almost as much as he wanted to fuck Jason as hard as he could. As turned on as he was, though, he wouldn’t last long, and given how certain he’d been that he’d never have Jason like this again, he wanted to savor everything.
Slow, then. Long, steady strokes, which prompted even more cursing.
“Harder,” Jason ground out. “You said . . . you said ‘hard.’”
“I know.” Blake ran his hand up and down Jason’s side. “But this feels amazing.”
Jason exhaled, rocking back and forth. “You always . . . always feel amazing.”
“So do you.” Blake couldn’t get enough of watching Jason like this, but something was missing. After being stretched out against Jason for so long, touching him from head to toe, the absence of skin against skin was conspicuous.
So he leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Jason’s waist. Then Jason started to go down, and Blake followed, and together, they sank onto the mattress, pinning Blake’s arm beneath them, and Blake buried his face against Jason’s neck. Every breath tasted like Jason’s scent, and he inhaled deeply, seeking more.
Jason gasped, so Blake thrust harder. Another gasp, this time followed by a moan, and a shudder, and muffled curses.
“Was starting to think . . .” Blake kissed the side of his neck and struggled to find his breath as he rode Jason faster. “Starting to think I’d never feel you like this again. Never feel . . .” He gritted his teeth. “Never feel you come again.”
“Would’ve been a shame.” Jason arched beneath him, tightened around him. “’Cause . . . no one’s ever made me come like you do.”