Page 14 of Shrapnel

Jamie grinned against his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you want?”

His eyes sparkled with a little bit of that chaotic energy he had at the manor. Sitting up, he leaned over Jackson’s shoulder and took his pointer finger into his mouth. Lapping at the digit, he wrapped his tongue around the base and sucked the tip in. Pink lips clamped over the finger, sucking hard enough that his lips hallowed.

“God, ugh, that tastes awful.” Jamie screwed up his face at the taste of the cream on his lips.

“It’s a topical cream, dumbass.”

Jamie dragged his tongue along his front teeth in an attempt to rid himself of the taste.

The ham-fisted attempts at seduction were almost laughable. Almost. Unfortunately, while his brain told him it was pathetic, his dick most certainly did not agree.

His orgasms usually consisted of quick jerkoffs whenever he had a moment to himself. Far from satisfying, they were done out of necessity. Something he did for his comfort, but not enjoyment. Apparently, his dick was tired of his hand and thought the first person who threw themselves at him was good enough.

“If I wanted to fuck some twink there’s a million offering,” he sneered cruelly.

“Sure,” Jamie said, unbothered by the venom in his tone. “But you don’t want some dumb twink.” He wiggled his way to Jackson’s side, ducking under his grip and popping back up against his chest like it was nothing.

“You don’t want someone to simper after you with cow eyes and ask for nice little head pats,” He practically purred. He was far too close for Jackson’s comfort, crawling right past his best ‘fuck off and die’ expression to nuzzle under his jaw.

“You want someone who sees that look in your eye and doesn’t recoil. Someone who pushes themselves just as hard as you push yourself.”

Jamie dragged his lips along the joint of his jaw, not quite kissing, just letting his lips mouth at the stubble there. They were pink and warm, soft in a way they shouldn’t be. His breathing was moist and hovering against his skin, hotter than the humid air.

“I know exactly who you’re picturing when you feel my lips against you. Whose hand you want mine to be.” His free hand skimmed along Jackson’s thigh, dancing along the inside of his leg with featherlight touches. Almost like he was asking for permission. His dick twitched in interest.

Jackson felt his breathing hitch in his chest. It was having difficulty getting past his ribcage and all his blood was pooling in his lower abdomen.

A hand slipped up his inner thigh and grasped his semi-hard erection, fingers loosely grasping it through the soft pants.

“Does that feel good, Jackie Boy?”

Distracted by his hand, he barely registered Jamie leaning up to lick at the corner of his lips. Instinctively he pressed them together. Jamie made a soft noise of protest, gently licking at the seam. He ran his stupidly soft tongue along the bow of his upper lip, stopping just at the apex so he could lay a chaste kiss on his unreciprocating lips.

“Kiss me, brother.”

Jackson inhaled sharply, grabbing Jamie and flipping them so he was straddling his slim waist. Again, his hand found its way around his throat—fingers sliding right into the bruises they left earlier.

There was a bright glint in Jamie’s eye. Excitement shivered down his spine as he grabbed at Jackson, not in protest, but in pleasure.

Jamie was a matador in the middle of the arena. He snapped and cracked his red cape, taunting and enraging Jackson until he had no choice but to charge.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jackson hissed, punctuating his question with a squeeze on his neck.

Jamie rocked his hips up, brushing his obvious erection against Jackson’s.

“I’m the guy who knows just how deep your brother complex is rooted, and still wants to fuck you anyway.” Jamie licked his lips lasciviously. “Doesn’t that turn you on?”

Jackson was horrified to discover that it did.

He dropped his head to kiss Jamie. It was punishing and cruel. He wanted to wipe that stupid shit-eating grin off his face and make it contort in pain. Wanted to drag the cute little quips from his mouth and replace them with screams of painful pleasure.

Jamie eagerly parted his lips to the onslaught, gasping in ecstasy when Jackson bit down hard enough to draw blood.

Slender fingers scrabbled down Jackson’s sides, raking against his skin until they left marks behind. Their erections rubbed together, the fabric of their pants too punishing and yet not enough. Jamie released Jackson so he could yank his shirt off over his head.

He knew Jamie was slender, but he was unprepared for the definition of his torso. Long and lean, his skin was an expanse broken up only by two dusky pink nipples that were already standing at attention.