Infuriating - Onley James Page 0,42
until Day’s back rested against the wall and he had the leverage he needed to drive up into him, hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt, driving Day’s breath from his lungs with every thrust. Day was hard again, his cock leaking between them as Jackson fucked into him again and again until his thighs burned and they were both slick with sweat.
Day’s eyes were closed, his head back, words spilling from his swollen red lips. “I need to come, Daddy. I need it. Please. Please.”
Jackson could listen to Day begging forever, especially if it meant being buried in the tight warmth of his hole.
He walked back to the bed and dropped Day on the mattress, pushing his legs up into his chest before sliding back into him. “Touch yourself. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Day’s gaze was glazed, and he bit down on his lip in a moan as his hand closed around his cock, and he began to stroke himself hard and fast, only worried about his desperate need to get off. Watching Day touch himself only drove Jackson closer to his own release. When Jackson shifted, Day gave a cry of surprise that turned into a long, low moan. “Oh, God. Right there. Right there. Oh, my God. Please don’t stop. I’m so close. I’m so close. Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come, Jackson. I’m gonna come.”
Day painted his stomach and chest with his release, his hole spasming around Jackson’s cock in a way that shot heat into his belly, that spread to his limbs, his balls tightening until his hips stuttered off rhythm and he was grinding into Day’s ass, cock throbbing as he came deep inside him.
Jackson stayed where he was until his brain came back online. When he went to withdraw from Day, he wrapped his legs around Jackson’s waist and whined. “No, not yet.”
Jackson chuckled, leaning down to kiss Day’s forehead, his nose, and finally his lips, his softening cock slipping free. Day groaned. Jackson padded naked into the bathroom, relieving himself and then wetting a washcloth, wiping himself down and then taking it to Day who was now on his belly, eyelids at half-mast as he watched Jackson come towards him.
Jackson cleaned him gently, checking to make sure he hadn’t hurt Day. He could see his cum leaking from Day’s hole. If Jackson could have gotten hard again, he would have. He gently slipped a finger back inside Day, who gasped at the unexpected intrusion. “You liked coming inside me,” Day said, voice muffled. “Do you have a breeding kink, you big perv?”
Did he? Jackson had never thought so before, but he couldn’t help the feeling building in him as he fingered Day’s loosened hole, feeling the wetness inside him. He pulled free, wiping his fingers off before gently cleaning Day once more and gathering him into his arms.
Day wiggled like a child trying to escape a parent’s embrace. “Is this cuddling?” he said grumpily. “I hate it.”
“You do not,” Jackson said. “Besides, I demand post-coital cuddles. Fight me.”
Day didn’t fight. If anything, he wiggled closer, molding himself against Jackson’s side and resting his head over his heart. “Fine. I guess this isn’t so bad.”
Jackson shook his head, smiling. “You don’t always have to be so prickly, you know.”
“My spirit animal is a porcupine,” Day muttered, sounding sleepy. “Was it okay?”
Jackson looked down at the top of Day’s head. “Was what okay? The sex?”
Day craned his head up. “No, my interpretive dance. Yes, the sex. Was it okay?”
So prickly. Jackson smiled. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”
Day rubbed his face against Jackson’s chest. “I thought I did pretty good, but it’s nice to hear. Everybody likes compliments.”
Jackson laughed. “You are one of a kind, Dayton. I’ll give you that.”
“I’ll take it,” Dayton murmured sleepily.
“Go to sleep, Day. We have to be up early.”
Day didn’t respond. A moment later, the sound of soft snoring reached Jackson through his haze of sleep. He wrapped his arm around Day tighter, knowing that sleepy, cuddly Day wasn’t who Jackson would wake up with. Day might have decided that Jackson was worthy of his virginity, but he still wasn’t ready to trust Jackson with his heart. But Jackson was patient. He’d wait him out.
Day couldn’t stall forever. Could he?
Day sat in his own seat on the plane home, his socked feet tucked beneath him, clutching his venti quad shot mocha latte in his hands as he gazed out the window at the world below.