Page 109 of Burden of Proof

Hunter’s jaw quivered, his pants falling to the floor. He still had his shirt on, half unbuttoned. He stepped out of his pants and surged forward, grabbing me around the back of the head and crashing our mouths together. He kissed me hard and urgently, walking us both until we were at the edge of the bed. I expected him to push me onto my back and crawl between my legs, but what happened next was even better.

Hunter turned at the last minute, bending his knees and landing on the mattress with a soft puff of breath against my lips. He spread his bare thighs to make room for my naked body, the press of my dick against his stomach almost enough to get me off without any other stimulation.

“That’s fine if that’s really what you want,” he whispered against the corner of my mouth. Hunter grabbed my cock and slid it over his balls and toward his own ass. “But I was hoping you could finish here instead.”

Bracketing my hands on either side of his face, I put enough space between us that I could stare down at him to make sure he hadn’t lost the plot entirely.

“Are you being for real right now?”

“Very.”

My jaw went dry as a the desert, and I rocked back onto my heels so I could better appreciate the man beneath me. Hunter’s cock was hard as mine, an angry pink and purple-looking thing with a slick crown and throbbing pulse of its own. His chest heaved with every breath, and I took my time undoing the remaining buttons on his shirt so I could spread it open and really see him.

Hunter Covington was a work of art, thick muscles and a sturdy build, with plush lips meant for kissing and dark eyes that had no place being out of the bedroom. And he was on his back beneath me, looking at me like I had hung him the fucking moon.

“I don’t care if you come as soon as I touch your asshole,” I said. “I want to take my time with you.”

“You better,” he murmured, grabbing my hips and pushing into me.

My dick pulsed against his hole, desperate to get inside. He was going to have to wait.

“Hunter…”

He shook his head.

“Daddy,” I corrected myself, the honorific dragging a full-body shiver out of me. “Are you going to be my good boy now?”

“The best,” he whispered.

Nodding, I groaned, pulling away enough to lean over the side of the bed. His clothes were scattered across the floor like breadcrumbs of eagerness. I snatched his tie up and ran the smooth silk through my fingers, pulling it tight and making a quick knot with two loops on either side.

“Can I?”

In response, he held his hands between us, wrists together in offering. If Hunter felt me shake while I tightened the binds around his wrists, he didn’t call me out on it. Nor did he say anything when I leaned over the top of him, pinning his bound hands to the pillow. What he did do, though, was nip at my nipple, teeth catching on the barbell and making me wince.

I drew back quicky, grabbing his cheeks hard and pinching until his lips puckered out like a fish. The rush of control rolled through me like a heatwave, sweat immediately prickling against the back of my neck. It had been so long since I’d indulged this part of myself, and leaning into it now felt aligning myself with a place I was always meant to be.

“Bad boy, Daddy,” I warned. “You said you were going to be good.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he murmured, nostrils flaring.

I must have died.

This had to be a dream, this perfect blending of dominance and submission wrapping around us and giving me everything I’d always wanted. Everything that had always been missing.

“If I let go of your hands, will you stay still?”

Hunter’s chest heaved with every breath, but he managed a rough nod. For good measure, I pressed his wrists and his head down against the pillow before releasing him. My cock was so hard I could have beat him with it and left bruises that would last for a week, but I slid down his body, ignoring the way the plug in my ass weighed urgently against my prostate. I grabbed Hunter’s thighs, spread him open, and buried my face between his cheeks.

The first thing I tasted was smears of my own precum, then Hunter’s soap and his sweat. He arched off the bed with a desperate shout, but he did keep his wrists above his head whereI’d left them. I would need to reward him for good behavior after all.

“I haven’t—” he tried to stop me, but the words died when I licked a hot stripe from his hole to his taint.

“You taste like everything I’ve ever wanted,” I promised him. “But I’ll stop if you would rather I don’t.”

Hunter stared down his chest at me with frantic eyes. “Don’t stop.”

I licked him again, puckered my mouth against his rim, and speared my tongue into his asshole, rutting against the sheets the whole time, far too close to my own release for comfort.