Page 53 of Home Grown Talent
“You know?” Owen growled. “I think I should smack that gorgeous arse of yours.”
Mason thought he might pass out, so much blood headed south. Although his face felt as flushed as his dick. Swallowing, he said, “Yeah, maybe you should.”
Owen pulled back once more, looking him straight in the eyes. Something passed between them. “Yeah?” Owen said, softly. “Just for fun, nothing…extreme.”
Mason bit his lip, heart beating wildly. “Yeah. Just for fun.”
Owen studied him, as if confirming he meant it; then his expression melted into something almost helpless, dazzled. “Christ,” he said, and leaned in to kiss Mason again, deep and powerful, both arms going around him, holding him so hard he could hardly move. Not that he wanted to move, he simply…relaxed, ceded control, let his body turn to honey in Owen’s arms.
And then Owen was manoeuvring them both into the bedroom, still kissing, still touching, undressing each other as they went. “On to the bed,” he said, when Mason was down to nothing but his jeans. Mason moved to slide them off, but Owen stopped him. “No. Keep them on for now. Hands and knees. Let me look at you.” His voice was gentle, but firm, like he knew exactly what he wanted, exactly how this was going to play out.
Swallowing, Mason did as he was told, and it felt…terrifyingly vulnerable and astonishingly safe at the same time, because even though he wasn’t sure where this was going, he trusted Owen to make it good.
When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Owen watching him. He wore nothing but a very nice pair of black boxer briefs, his sizeable cock straining the fabric. Catching Mason’s eye, he smiled and gave himself a deliberate stroke through the cotton, biting lightly at his bottom lip. Fuck, he was sexy.
Owen said, “You look so bloody hot like that.”
And Christ, the way Owen was looking at him with that compelling mix of heat and fondness —it just did something for Mason. Let him give up control, maybe, without worrying the other guy would lose respect for him.
He gave his arse a suggestive wiggle and said breathlessly, “Are you just going to look, then?”
Owen’s grin was approving. “Such an impatient boy,” he said and came closer. His warm hands landed lightly on Mason’s hips, fingers ghosting up his sides, running over his ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps across his skin before moving down over his back, thumbs either side of his spine, fingers spread, and finally settling on his hips again. Then, with a firm tug, Owen pulled Mason to the edge of the bed, close enough that Owen’s cock could nudge against Mason’s denim-covered arse.
Mason rocked back into him with a helpless, needy whine, and for a while, they just moved like that, Owen thrusting lazily against him while Mason whimpered, his iron-hard cock trapped in his jeans. He needed to touch himself, but he couldn’t, so he clenched his hands into the duvet instead.
Finally, with a hitching breath, Owen pulled back. “You’re going to make me come before I can even get inside you,” he murmured. “Such a bad boy.”
His hand landed in a light swat across Mason’s backside.
It didn’t hurt, but the sound and the feel of it, the thought of it, ran through Mason like an electric bolt. He cried out in shocked pleasure, cock pulsing and straining inside his jeans.
Owen did it again, a little harder, and Mason gave another of those helpless, needy cries.
“Fuck.” Owen swatted him again. “You have no idea—Jesus.”
Mason laughed, and it sounded shaky and desperate. “Take them off. Take my jeans off.”
“Hey.” Owen smacked him again. “Who’s the boss here?” But his hands were already undoing Mason’s flies. Pulling his jeans down slowly, with obvious relish, Owen gave another of those husky hitched breaths. “Fuck, Mason, look at you.”
The cool air on his arse and the reverence in Owen’s voice made Mason shiver. And then another of those light smacks landed, this one skin to skin, bringing a stinging tingle. Mason gasped, elbows giving way, face landing in the duvet.
“So fucking hot, I can’t get enough,” Owen was saying. “I’ll never get enough.” Another swat landed, and it ran like fire though Mason’s blood, liquifying him. And then a different sensation, firm hands spreading him, hot breath against his skin, the soft scratch of stubble, and a sudden silken pressure as Owen’s tongue slid across him, lapping and probing at his hole.
Mason had to fumble for his stiff cock and grasp it in a firm fist to keep from coming right then. “Jesus,” he hissed as Owen licked and kissed, teasing fingers sliding between Mason’s legs to caress his balls, tongue flicking and exploring. All coherent thought fled, leaving Mason suspended in a glorious, timeless space of sensation and touch, of kissing and caressing, of light tingling swats. Being petted and chastened and spoiled.
Then Owen husked, “Lube, condoms?”
“Bedside table.” Mason pressed his face back into the duvet and just…let it happen. He floated in that perfect place of sensation while Owen toyed with him, kissed him, played with him until he was a hot mess of want, and finally—finally—he felt the blunt head of Owen’s cock at the entrance to his body.
“Okay?” Owen said, voice hoarse with restraint.
Mason pushed up on his elbows, giving himself more leverage so that he could push back against that pressure. “Give it to me,” he growled. “Fucking give it to me.”
“So impatient…” Another swat on his arse, and then—oh Christ—then Owen was pressing in, slow and steady, unrelenting. Filling him. And Mason held nothing back because Owen loved all his whimpering, needy noises. They were like firecrackers thrown onto a bonfire, each one triggering a grunt from Owen as he began to move. A careful rhythm at first, his hands hot on Mason’s hips, strong and firm, and then—like a burst of starlight—another sharp smack on his arse that made them both cry out.
Fuck, it was good. So good.
And then Owen began to really pick up the pace, one hand on Mason’s shoulder to keep him in place, the other on his hip as he fucked him, hard, and Mason was just taking it. Loving it. Shouting with every shuddering thrust, his body tightening, his stomach and legs clenching, drawing up, muscles contracting.