11. Jacob

Chapter 11

Jacob

"Hi, lover." Archer pulls me into his flat and shuts the door.

We fall upon each other straight away. Groping, stroking, and kissing as we stumble the short distance into his bedroom. It's always the same. Fuck first, chat later. It's what we agreed to. It's what I want. Only sometimes when we're cuddling, I imagine having more. Not that we can have more, and I don't know him well enough to want more, but that doesn't stop my imagination skipping into fantasy land.

"Good day?" Archer asks between frantic kisses.

"Yes. You?"

"Uh-huh."

Archer didn't finish work until eleven, and it's half past now. He can have only been home a few minutes. He smells of the bar. Of spilt alcohol and a thousand different perfumes and colognes. Late-night visits for sex have become our norm over the last few weeks.

My need for him has done nothing but grow. I stupidly thought I'd fuck him out of my system in a week or two. But here we are, almost a month since he got on his knees and sucked me off for the first time, and desire still burns in my groin.

I hunger for the sex but long for the time we spend together afterwards. Naked, tired, and sweaty. We hold each other and talk. Enjoying him within the safety of these four walls has to be enough, so why does it feel like it isn't?

During the day, I catch myself daydreaming about him. Not about having sex with him, but about hiking through the Dales, casually holding hands. About taking him out for dinner or to see a film. I daydream about the things couples do.

But we're not a couple.

We're fuck buddies. And it has to be enough.

The thought of going public, of telling my parents or Molly we're fucking, leaves me in a cold sweat. They can't know. Dad and Molly can't judge the age gap between us—theirs is far bigger—but society will. Everyone will judge me for fucking my stepbrother. Everyone . It's not right. It's not the done thing. It's not okay.

"I need you," I whisper.

Losing myself in him is the only way to shove my fears aside. Why do I crave the one thing I can't have? If only I'd met him sooner before Dad had married Molly. Better yet, before he fucked her. We could have been together then. But now? Now it's wrong. Yet I can't stop needing him and coming to him and being with him. Is this what it's like to be an addict? Knowing what you want is wrong, that having it could ultimately destroy you but indulging anyway.

"Oh, fuck, I need you too," Archer tightens his grip on my shoulders.

"Inside you?"

"Yes." His voice is a needy whine.

Anyone would think I hadn't fucked him in a week. I was here last night, although I didn't stay over.

We undress each other with frantic, clumsy hands. Archer takes lube and a condom out of his dresser drawer, drops them on the bed, and then positions himself on his hands and knees.

"No."

He looks over his shoulders, brows raised. "No?"

We always have sex doggy style.

I lick my lips. "I want to—Can we try something different?"

"You're not normally nervous about sex."

He's right. It's only outside the bedroom I'm nervous and fumbling.

I lift my chin. "I want to try something different."

He gets up and strokes my hips, gyrating against me. "Feeling adventurous?"

"Yes."

"I like it. Tell me how you want me."

"At the end of the bed."

"Bending over it like this?" He leans onto the bed with his arse in the air.

"No. Turn around."

He does.

"Sit."

He grips the edge of the bed with his hands and grins at me expectantly.

"Lie back."

"I like where this is going." He waggles his brows and flops back so his legs are splayed and hanging off the edge of the bed.

I stand between them and bend my knees to rest them on the edge of the bed. I shove my hands under his knees, lift his legs, and put his ankles on my shoulders. A rush of air escapes his lungs. His pupils shrink, and he parts his lips.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah, this is fucking sexy."

I reach for the lube, but it's too far away. He picks it up and hands it to me. Okay, this is more awkward than I thought it would be. I have to bend my knees even more to reach his hole, and I can't get my fingers very deep. Not that he seems to mind. He moans and curses, wriggles and thrusts his hips as I use one, then two, and then three fingers to warm up his arse and get it ready for my cock. He's so beautiful. His eyelids get heavier, but he keeps them open, his gaze fixed on me. My heart and stomach quiver, and my cock aches. I need him.

"Hurry up and get inside me," he says.

"Needy."

"Yes, I am. I need you to fuck me."

I chuckle, glove myself up, and slick my hard length with plenty of lube. "Ready?"

"Yes!"

I pull him onto my cock, revelling in his desperate whine as I push inside him.

"Fuck, that's good. Fill me. Fuck me."

I hold his ankles against my shoulders, throw my head back, and snap my hips back and forth quickly and firmly. I grunt through the exertion. Archer moans, whimpers, and swears. I could fuck him like this until we both come and be happy and sated, and it would be wonderful.

But then I glance down, and my heart stutters and the rhythm of my hips falters.

He's twisting the sheets with one hand and stroking himself with the other. He looks fucking gorgeous, his gaze focused on me. I stop thrusting.

"You okay?" he asks between pants.

"Yes." Only, I want more than this frantic pounding. I want to be able to feel his body beneath mine. I want to be able to kiss him.

I shift position and push him up the bed so I can kneel between his thighs. I lie over him, my heart pattering wildly against his, and press a tender kiss to his lips.

"Jacob?"

"Is this okay?" I roll my hips slowly and gently.

"Uh-huh."

"What? No swearing?"

"Not right now."

I thread my fingers through his and hold his hands on either side of his head. I kiss him and fuck him, and when our lips aren't locked, I stare into his eyes.

My orgasm sneaks up on me faster than I want it to. I increase my pace and thrust deeper into him. My cock throbs inside him. My cum spills into the condom. If only it was spilling into him. I suck in a breath and blink.

"Jacob?" He groans and tips his head back, his body shuddering as he comes.

Cum splatters our stomachs. I squish mine against him, cementing his load between us.

"Oh, fucking god. I've never come without a hand on my cock. Fucking, fuck, fuck.".

I respond with a soft chuckle and a hard kiss. Then I rest my head on his shoulder and hold him.

He strokes my back. "You can fuck me like that again. Jacob."

"Yeah?"

"It was nice."

"It was for me too."

"I don't know what brought that on, but more of that, please?"

I laugh. "Are you okay with this?"

"You cuddling me while still inside me? Yes."

"I meant this . What we're doing." My heart crashes while I wait for him to respond.

"Yes."

"Sure?"

"Yes. It's what we agreed to."

I lift my head and stroke his sweaty brow. "But are you okay with it?"

He cups my cheek. "Yes. I enjoy what we have. I haven't thought about hooking up with anyone else since meeting you. Don't stop coming over, Jacob."

I kiss him. Emotion lodges in my throat. "I won't. But if you stop being okay with it, tell me. Eventually, you'll want more than I can give you."

He'll want a relationship with a man he can be with in public. He'll want more than sex and secrets.

Archer sighs and kisses my temple. "Yeah, maybe, eventually. But not yet. Right now, I'm good with what we've got. More than good. Do you believe me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Can you stop talking scary now?"

"Scary?"

"It sounded like you were going to break up with me."

"Fuck, no, Archer. That isn't what I want." I hold him tighter and inhale his scent. "I want you. I need you. I sound desperate and pathetic."

"No, you don't. And even if you do, I want the same so we can be desperate and pathetic together."

I smile. "That works."

"Hold me."

"I am."

"Tighter."

I squeeze and kiss him and then snuggle against him. I want to hold him all night, and if I'm honest, I don't want the night to end.