“Yes. Oh God, yes. I want you deep inside me.”
“I’ll get there. That’s a promise.” Charlie kissed the back of his neck, sliding in deeper, inch by slow, wonderful inch. “You feel as good as I remembered. I wanted you for so long, even back then. I told myself you were off-limits. But every night, I’d lie here, dreaming about you, so fucking turned on I couldn’t think straight, wishing more than anything I could do what I’m doing right now.”
Jonas shivered, remembering. “I wish it’d been you. I wish I’d been smart enough to choose you from the beginning.”
“Then we wouldn’t be where we are, right here, right now.” Charlie pulled out slowly. This time, he pushed in harder, and Jonas gasped, willing himself to relax around Charlie’s girth.
“You barely touched me,” Jonas whispered. “Those last couple of times we all fooled around together as a group, I waited for you to choose me, but you never did. You went to Rory. You went to Stuart. You never chose me.”
Charlie pushed in again, slamming Jonas against the mattress. “Gray and Tad were both there.” He thrust again, pushing hard, as if he could somehow get deeper. As if he could claim Jonas with his cock. “I was afraid they’d see how much I wanted you.” He thrust again, making Jonas moan. “I was afraid they’d see that I was head over heels for you.”
“Oh, Charlie…” Jonas gave himself up, loving Charlie’s weight against his back, loving the feel of his cock filling him. Loving the feel of Charlie’s beard against his shoulder, Charlie’s lips on his neck.
Charlie’s thrusts grew faster. “I don’t just want to fuck you.” Charlie slid one hand underneath Jonas, wrapping his fingers around Jonas’s cock as he thrust. “I want to own you. I want you to be mine.”
“I am,” Jonas told him. “I have been for years.”
Charlie thrust again. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
Another thrust. “Say it again.”
“I’m one hundred percent yours.”
Charlie fucked him steadily, one hand stroking Jonas’s cock, the other knotted in Jonas’s hair, wrenching his head back. The helplessness of his situation made Jonas groan. He could take pain, but in and of itself, it meant nothing to him. This was what he loved—being completely at the mercy of his partner. Being trapped, knowing he could be used in a hundred different ways and had no way to stop it.
As the pressure to climax grew, so did Jonas’s inexplicable need to fight his bonds. He wanted to spread his legs. His wrists twisted against the rope. He’d forgotten this part, how his body seemed to fight against his own pleasure. Charlie’s grip on his cock was soft yet demanding, his thrusts hard, yet somehow tender. He growled in Jonas’s ear as his lust took over, fucking Jonas until the bed was creaking
“Charlie. Sir. Master. Oh God, please don’t stop.”
“I don’t intend to. Not until you come.”
The pressure built. Jonas arched his back, letting Charlie’s thrusts go deeper. Giving Charlie’s hand room to move as it stroked Jonas’s length.
“I’m really close.” He only hoped Charlie didn’t order him to hold it back. “Oh, God, Charlie, I’m so fucking close.”
He gasped as Charlie yanked his hair again, his thrusts becoming frantic. “Say it.”
Jonas groaned, fighting his orgasm. “I’m yours.”
“Say it louder.”
“I’m all yours.”
“Yes, you are,” Charlie growled into his ear. “I plan on reminding you of that as many times as I’m able.”
Jonas held his breath as his pleasure peaked, his climax wrenching a cry from his throat. Charlie groaned, pushed over the edge by Jonas’s orgasm, slamming in deep as his orgasm shuddered through him. For a moment, they lay there, both of them struggling to catch their breath.
“Say it one more time,” Charlie whispered into his ear.
Jonas sighed, relishing the delicious shivers that followed his orgasm. “I’ve always been yours, Charlie.”
And if he had his way, he always would be.
The other side of the bed was empty when Charlie woke. The mystery of where Jonas had gone was solved when the toilet flushed a second later. Jonas emerged, still naked. He climbed into bed, moving immediately into Charlie’s arms.
Charlie took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to examine how he felt.
Disbelief, first and foremost. He’d given up on this dream ever coming true.
Guilt, because this was bound to hurt his best friend.
Warmth and a deep, wonderful sense of contentment, because after six long years, Jonas was finally here, where he belonged.
“What are you thinking?” Jonas asked.
“That I’d like to stay in