Page 51 of Mr. Brightside

“What do you want, baby?” I grit out as I bite his bottom lip.

He digs his fingers into my back, begging me with his touch. “Jake.” My name is a scolding, a punishing command. “You’ve edged me all fucking day. You could look at my dick right now and I would come. I need it.”

“You need it?” I whisper as I cup him through his shorts. “Or you needme?”

“I need you. I need you to get me off right now, or so help me…”

I suck his neck until his knees buckle, then bend low to catch him under the ass and lift him against the wall.

“Jake!” he protests, squirming where I have him pinned.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I promise, running the tip of my nose along his jaw.

He wraps his legs around me to help hold himself up as I move my hands to cup his face. His deep brown eyes are blown out, his expression soft and wanting thanks to the mix of mojitos and edging.

“You know this is more than sex, right?” I press my forehead to his and will him to understand. “Earlier this week, when I called this a marriage with benefits… that was then.”

His eyes shoot open and assess me. I don’t have anything else to say—I can’t articulate what’s changed over the last few days. But this is suddenly so much more than money and sex. And before we do this for the first time as a married couple, he needs to know that. He needs to know that was then, and this is now.

Now.

The magical, ethereal, alternate universe where I’m married and so damn happy.

“I know. I feel it, too,” he replies earnestly. “But I can’t even think straight right now, Jake, let alone talk about the state of our relationship. That’s on you. Make me come as fast as you can, then I’ll make love to you and show you just how deeply I’m feeling it, too.”

I gulp at his demand, lowering him and guiding him to the second story of the villa. I don’t think anyone’s ever offered to make love to me before. A week ago, I would have scoffed at the very idea. Now I can’t wait to explore it with him.

“Get on the bed,” I command when we’re finally upstairs. I shuck off my shirt and push down my Bermuda shorts. Cory pulls his own turquoise T-shirt over his head, revealing his gorgeous, smooth chest with just the faintest hint of a happy trail guiding me to my target.

“Show me how much you want me.”

I stand a few feet away, towering over him, watching expectantly as he unbuckles his belt and lifts his hips to remove his pants and boxers. His dick—his hard, glorious, beautiful dick—springs free with an eagerness that makes me giddy.

“Sit on the edge,” I instruct, smirking when his eyes shoot to mine in question. My man doesn’t challenge me, though. Instead, he positions his body right where I want it.

His hands brace the edge of the mattress, his cock standing erect and ready.

I prowl toward him, then drop to my knees.

His eyes are clouded with lust as I lean in close, tracing a path from root to tip with just one finger. I lock him in my gaze and make him watch me take his cock in my mouth, lapping up the generous bead of precum on the tip. I lick him clean, then hold out my tongue and arch one eyebrow, making him moan. He may be the one who’s been edged all day. But I want him so damn much I ache.

“I’m not gonna last long with my dick in your mouth,” he warns.

“Good thing I’m not going to put your dick back in my mouth,” I tease as I swallow his saltiness and stretch up to kiss him. He tastes like coconut rum and mint—his tongue greedy as he clashes with me for dominance. I grasp his dick in one hand and squeeze so hard he moans into my mouth, making me want him even more. Kissing the shit out of him, I set the rhythm, giving him that firm, steady pressure he’s been craving all day. I fully expect him to come in less than a minute. I can’t wait to make him unravel for me.

I force myself to break our kiss, sitting back on my heels as I continue to jack him. There’s no teasing now. No more edging or working him up just to cool him off. I’m a man on a mission.

I duck low, cupping his balls in my free hand before I lick the underside of his dick. He jolts on contact, and I chuckle. If he thinks that feels good…

“Fuck…” he hisses when I suck his nuts into my mouth.

I’m still stroking him, determined to make him explode. His hand lands on my head in encouragement as I relax my jaw. He’s a literal mouthful, and I love it. Just like I love being under him, pleasuring him with my hands and my mouth. Giving him what I deprived him of all day.

I alternate between swallowing and sucking his sack, teasing his balls as I stroke his dick.

“Fuck. Jake. Yes. Jake…”

He can barely get the words out. I know he’s close. It takes everything in me to keep up the rhythm and timing—steady with the pressure, maintain the perfect pace. He pulls my hair so hard I see bursts of light when he finally hits his peak. I keep working him over, wanting him to ride out every delicious wave of this well-earned release. I’ve got his dick pointed right toward his abs, intentionally making sure to drain him of every drop so I can make good on my promise.