If It Drives (Market Garden, #7)(8)

He ran his fingers down the crack, rubbed against the perineum, pushing hard from the outside against the sweet spot, which made James open his legs wider and almost get up on his knees, offering Cal as much play and space as he wanted. Only then did Cal push two fingers inside him, curled them and found James’s prostate.

James moaned, a low, needy sound he likely wasn’t even aware of. Cal slid in and out, moving his body deliberately to mimic f*cking, letting James feel his weight, his closeness, while finger-f*cking him. James’s moans did well to recharge him, too—he loved how readily and easily James responded to him, to every touch, and he was tempted to dive down between his legs and suck on that beautiful, still very hard cock.

James whimpered again. “Cal . . .”

“Hmm? Something wrong?” He grinned and curled his fingers again, rubbing against James’s prostate, and whatever James was trying to say came out as a moan. “You’re having trouble speaking, aren’t you?” Cal asked, still grinning. “Why is that?”

Another groan, this one just as incomprehensible but with a distinct note of “f*ck you.”

“Now, now.” Cal slowly withdrew his fingers. “You have to play nice to get what you want.” A voice in the back of his mind warned him against speaking to his boss this way, but he ignored it. This wasn’t his boss. James, yes, but . . . not.

“I want—” James moaned again as Cal pushed his fingers back in. “Fuck . . .”

Cal chuckled. “James, James, James. You’re usually so much more”—he withdrew a little, added a third finger—“articulate than this.”

James gripped the pillow beside his head, tension rippling down his forearm. “You’re a . . . tease.”

“Mm-hmm.” Cal f*cked him slowly with his fingers. “Do you want me to stop?”

James tensed a little, as if sensing a trick question. “N-no. I want you to f*ck me.”

“I am.” Cal slid his fingers all the way in just for emphasis.

“Really f*ck me.”

“Hmm. You might have to explain that a little—”

“Put on a goddamned condom and f*ck me.” The words came out as a growled demand, but as soon as he’d spoken, James tensed again. He turned his head, and added over his shoulder, “Please, Cal. Please.”

Cal swept his tongue across his lips. Oh, wow. He’d never imagined this side of James, and he loved it. Loved the pleading even when he was so frustrated he forgot himself and gave an order.

“Oh, I’ll f*ck you. Don’t worry.” He started withdrawing his fingers slowly, and when he sensed the oh God, finally in James, he pressed them in again. “When I’m absolutely sure you’re ready for me.”

The groan—mostly frustration mixed with plenty of pleasure—gave Cal a sadistic thrill. He liked teasing men, always had, but this? This was fun. This was absolutely amazing. He’d never experienced anything quite like turning James into a trembling, inarticulate mess.

“Cal.” James was shaking now, clawing at the pillow and moving his hips, trying to get Cal to f*ck him harder and faster with his hand. “Please. I need . . . I need you to f*ck me.”

Cal slid his hand free and reached for a condom. When he tore it off the strip, the sound made James shiver, and goose bumps appeared all over the man’s flesh.

“Please,” James begged. “Cal . . .”

Teasing was fine and good, but now Cal couldn’t get the condom on fast enough. He glanced at the lube bottle. He’d used plenty on his fingers. Maybe . . .

“Cal. Fuck me. Please, Cal.”

Just to be on the safe side—and maybe to torment James for a moment longer—he put some lube on the condom. Then he positioned himself on top, and from the way James gripped the sides of the pillow and squirmed underneath him, Cal wondered if the man would last at all once he was finally getting what he wanted.

He guided himself to James’s well-prepped arse, and teased him a little, but didn’t push in. James swore and moaned, lifting his hips and trying to work Cal into him.

Cal leaned down and brushed his lips across the back of James’s neck. “One little thing, James.”

James turned his head to the side, just enough that Cal could see his brow starting to furrow. “Hmm?”

“You don’t get to come until I say so.” Another thrill rushed through him. Giving orders? To James?

“Not until . . .”

“Not until I say so.” Cal pressed the head of his cock into James, giving him just enough to make him shiver. “If you come, you’ll get too sensitive.” He withdrew a little. “And if you get too sensitive, then I can’t”—he thrust nearly all the way in—“f*ck you as hard as I want to.”

“Oh God.” James shivered again, and shoved back against Cal, driving him the rest of the way inside. “Fuck me. Hard.”

Cal forced him back down onto the bed, hilting himself inside James and pinning him to the mattress at the same time. “You going to do as I say? Not going to come until I tell you to?”

James nodded, stubble hissing across the pillowcase.

“Sure about that?” Cal moved just a little, withdrawing and pushing back in. “You’ll do as you’re told?”

“Anything.”