Page 65 of Constantly Cotton
And with that, he turned in Jason’s arms and took his mouth tenderly, but took it nonetheless.
Jason melted, allowing himself to be walked backward, led to the darkened bedroom.
“You have something in mind?” Jason asked breathlessly.
“Yeah.” Cotton had so little power in his life, but this,thishe could do. “I want to make you feel cherished.”
The sound Jason made then was fat with promise, heavy with need. “You don’t have to.”
“I’m good at this,” Cotton whispered. “Let me be good at it foryou.” He didn’t say that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to do it with anybody else again. He wouldn’t put that on Jason’s shoulders—or even on his own. But he knew that Jason Constance had waited for ten years to make love again because the life he’d chosen for himself, the things he’d wanted to do in the world, had made living without sex worth the sacrifice. Cotton would never again have sex for any other reason than touching someone being worth changing his life to be with that person.
He’d change his life again and again to be with Jason Constance, but he knew that wasn’t possible. He wanted to show Jason what the time theydidhave together meant.
“Okay,” Jason murmured, and there was an edge of sadness in his voice. He was already missing them, and Cotton couldn’t change that.
He could only give him memories to sustain him.
He kissed Jason with everything he had—powerful kisses, but not masterful. He wasn’t trying to dominate or bend Jason to his will. He wanted Jason to feel what he felt every time they kissed.
Jason seemed to know that and let him lead. Their clothes went first, all in a rush, because they knew each other’s bodies by now, and the surprise wasn’t in the unveiling.
It was in the touching.
Cotton gorged himself on skin. He kissed the placesheloved to kiss, mostly because Jason made the good sounds when he kissed them. He spent an eternity on Jason’s nipples, because they were sensitive, and he loved the helpless noises Jason made, the way his hips arched, thrusting his full cock into space, and even better, the way he masteredhimself,forcing his ass against the bed to wait for the next touch.
Eventually he moved to Jason’s cock, loving the startled gasp when he closed his mouth over the bell. Jason’s fingers tangled in his hair—long and curly these days—and Cotton teased the harp string with his tongue while fisting the shaft, not too hard, not too soft.
“You’re killing me,” Jason whispered as Cotton stroked with his lips and tongue. “But in a good way.”
Cotton chuckled, letting the vibrations rock him, and kept up the blowjob, using barely enough pressure to arouse him, but not enough to make him come.
“Cotton?” Jason begged, after spurting a particularly wicked jet of precome into Cotton’s mouth, “Do you want me to, uhm…?”
Cotton pulled back and blew gently across the head, smiling when Jason’s entire body—getting tanned and fit and healthy—shuddered.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he said, making sure there was no equivocation. “And I’m going to do it for a long time,” he promised. “And you might come, but I’m going to keep going. So if you need to come in my mouth now, I would love to swallow. We’ve got more to do tonight.”
And with that, he took a spit-slickened finger to tease Jason’s entrance, and Jason bit down on his palm as he screamed, shooting hard and thick into Cotton’s mouth.
Cotton swallowed it down, shuddering, his own cock aching with the taste. He used some more spit and some more come and played with the pucker some more.
Jason made a sound of discomfort, so Cotton pulled off, cleaning as he went, and parted Jason’s cheeks, rimming him happily.
Jason had stopped begging—stopped making words, actually—and it was like his body had accepted the floaty, subby place where it could endure pleasure after pleasure with greedy urgency.
He made a particularly needy whimper, and Cotton pulled reluctantly away. Oh, Jason liked his ass played with. Unashamedly too. Some men didn’t want to talk about it, or ask for it, or even mention that they liked it done, but Jason was unapologetic. He’d said at the very beginning that he liked to bottom, and Cotton would be taking him at his word tonight.
As Cotton sat up on his knees and wiped his face on his shoulder, he took stock of his handiwork.
Jason Constance, Colonel, a covert ops specialist with hundreds of people under his command, was splayed, knees spread lewdly, cock growing thick and fat again, face sweaty, lips swollen with kisses, wanton and ready for hard use.
Oh wow. He wasCotton’s. Cotton was going to have him and use him and fuck him and… cherish him. Love him.
Cotton shuddered, the thought alone almost making him spill. With practiced movements, he smoothed slick over his cock and then fitted himself between Jason’s spread knees.
“I might be,” Jason panted, “a little tight… oh… oh God. Oh God. Fuck… yes. Please. Please don’t stop. Oh…. God.Yes.”
Cotton had stretched him out thoroughly, probed with his tongue, then his fingers, and now Jason expanded, stretched to fit around Cotton’s cock, as Cotton slid inexorably in.