Jason bit his lip, muffling a groan.
“You’re fucking beautiful like that, you know. Fucking . . .” He ran out of words. Then breath. Then thoughts. He was mesmerized, gazing at Jason like Jason had gazed at the cuff links. Somehow, he managed to whisper, “I want to see you come.”
Jason dug his teeth into his lower lip, and pumped his cock faster. The low groan reverberated off Blake’s nerve endings, especially the ones in his very hard and very neglected dick, and Jason shut his eyes even tighter. He said something Blake couldn’t understand, but he damn sure understood the strain behind the words. Jason was so deliciously close. Right there. Blake almost regretted he wasn’t balls-deep in him, feeling him clench around his dick, sharp, shallow breaths rushing past Blake’s skin, but this was nearly as good—he had the perfect view of Jason arching and squirming as his face, neck, and chest flushed.
“Just so you know,” Blake said, “the cuff links are yours.”
Immediately, Jason came.
Semen hit his taut stomach muscles, a few drops even landing on his pecs, and it was all Blake could do not to finish himself off and come all over Jason.
Gradually, Jason relaxed against the bed, and then opened his eyes. They were gleaming with satisfaction, and Blake was willing to bet it wasn’t only from the orgasm. Blake ran his fingers along Jason’s jaw, then turned away and got a small towel from the bathroom. When he returned, Jason was up on his elbows, smiling.
Wordlessly, Blake offered him the towel.
“Thanks.” Jason wiped himself down, dropped the towel, and lay back on the bed, stretched out in a clear invitation. “Once I’ve caught my breath a bit more, we could haggle for, oh I don’t know, perhaps some face mounting.” He grinned.
“How much will that set me back?”
“I’ll make you a deal.” Jason scooted over. “Join me?”
Blake couldn’t not take the invitation, and rolled onto his side to face Jason, studying his features, willing his hormones under control. Maybe he should have simply fucked him, or jerked off, but he was enjoying their game of control too much. Jason didn’t seem to mind losing—or giving him what he wanted, more likely. “Anything particular you were imagining, with your eyes closed?”
“No. Just find it easier to concentrate that way.” Jason inched closer, and kissed him, a languid kiss that did nothing to rein in Blake’s horniness. “Still need to see what you look like when you get off. Preferably close up.”
“And what will that cost me?”
Jason trailed a finger down the center of Blake’s chest. “Depends.”
“On?”
“On how much work it takes for me to get you off.”
“Can’t really negotiate that upfront, can we?”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” That finger drifted alongside Blake’s cock—not quite touching it, but almost. “I’ll bet it won’t take much work.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Jason’s shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “Maybe. But I think you like games and control.” His finger continued down between Blake’s legs, and Blake could barely breathe as Jason drew light, lazy circles over that hypersensitive flesh. “And I have a game in mind.”
“What . . . what kind of game?”
“Well, usually I’d get more money for more work.” Jason leaned in, and his lips brushed Blake’s neck as gently as his fingertip teased Blake’s balls. “But in this case, if it takes that much work to make you come, then I’m not very good at my job, am I?” More fingers—two? three? ten?—materialized on Blake’s skin. “So the quicker I get you off, the better I am. And therefore”—his lips curved against Blake’s throat—“it should cost more.”
Blake closed his eyes. He struggled to make sense of what Jason had said and what it all meant, but it was nearly impossible with those soft kisses and those maddening fingers. “So I . . . so the longer it takes me to come, the less it costs me?”
“Mm-hmm.” Jason nipped below Blake’s ear. “More to the point, the faster I can get you off, the more it costs you.”
Jesus. He already had a tenuous grasp on anything resembling control, and now there was a price tag attached to it. On one hand, fuck it, he could afford any asking price. On the other, it could be fun to make Jason work for it. Assuming Blake could hold out that long, and he wasn’t so sure of that. “What’s the baseline?”
Jason’s fingers drifted upward, sliding along the underside of Blake’s cock. “Hmm, I don’t know. What seems fair?”
“Oh God.” Blake couldn’t crunch numbers. Not now. “I don’t . . . fuck, I don’t know.”
Jason lifted his hand away from Blake’s dick, which should have helped but only made the problem worse.
Where did you go? Why aren’t you touching me? Wait, where are you going?
Jason pushed himself up and moved on top of Blake. “If I can get you off in the first minute, five thousand pounds.”
“Five thousand—” Blake almost choked. “Are you serious?”
Jason grinned. “You don’t think it’s worth it?”