43. Gibson

43

GIBSON

C hristian would have made a beautiful submissive. He’s long, lithe, flexible. His smooth, flawless skin turns the most perfect shade of pink when smacked. He looks beyond fuckable in leather and gags. But I can’t dominate him when all I want is to be with him.

I’m not saying I can’t be rough, or I’m tossing the nipple clamps in the dumpster—I’m saying I don’t want to make him cry in surrender over some psychic pain he can’t verbalize. I want to find my own way into his heart so I can share the burden with him.

It takes a few minutes to get him off the bench. I’m clumsy with relief and the fear of failing him. He needed something from me, and I wasn’t able to deliver, but maybe he’ll let me try some other way. I help him sit up, and he throws his arms around me.

It knocks the wind out of me because I wasn’t expecting it. He’s usually more hands-off the first few minutes after a scene. I’ll take this, though. I nearly stumble forward in his embrace, but he helps me steady myself when he wraps his freed legs around my waist, hugging himself to me like a koala. “I’m sorry,” he whispers .

“It’s okay,” I say, thinking he means my near stumble.

“You didn’t want that, and I didn’t need it. I freaked out, but I should have just said that.”

“Freaked out?”

“I wanted to be the one you had dinner with.”

Oh, Christ. This man. He’s tearing me the fuck apart, and I’m welcoming it. “I wanted that, too, baby. I missed you.”

“Was it okay?”

“It was nothing. Let’s get out of here. I’ll tell you everything.”

He nods, his chin digging into my shoulder, and then slowly, he lets me go, but not before I kiss him.

I help him get dressed, and we make our way down to the basement. In the glow of white string lights, we lie together on his couch, legs tangled, chest to chest, with one of the pillows from his bed beneath our heads. He runs the pad of his thumb over my eyebrow, and I play with some of the wilder strands of his hair.

“It was just dinner. Lasted about thirty minutes. She enjoyed being out of the city for a while. Asked me why I changed the password to my checking account because she was trying to Zelle someone and couldn’t. I told her it was a fraud alert.”

“That’s it?”

“And she asked how my month had been.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said ‘productive.’”

“You didn’t elaborate?”

“Sure. I told her I closed on the warehouse on 12 th , and that I have all the permits in order to start demo on the Wall Street building.”

“Sounds like a fun talk.”

“I wasn’t up for a direct Q&A. Honestly I think I needed to get the lay of the land before I decide what’s next.”

“And did you?” he asks softly .

“You know what I noticed? While we were sitting down to dinner?”

“Hm?”

“The complete lack of warmth. And it’s not just an absence of warmth, it’s like someone’s actively pumping in cold air. Her smiles are brittle. Her laugh is hollow. She’s acting. All the time. She didn’t need a break from the city. She needed a break from faking it. And I don’t blame her. I do the same thing until I can’t stand it anymore and fuck up, which only pushes her further into her hiding place.”

“I’m sorry,” Christian whispers.

“I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I promise. What I’m saying is, it’s been like this so long, I started to think it was normal. That this is who we are together. And for as much as we don’t have secrets, our entire relationship is a lie I’ve been telling myself, and maybe she is, too, but mostly it’s been me from the beginning. I thought I could help, and she said she would let me. That might have been her only lie.” And it was the worst one, because I needed it so badly to be true.

Christian nods, still stroking my eyebrow, and I recognize he’s being extremely patient with me. He doesn’t want to know any of this. He wants to know what I’m going to do. “I love you,” I say so softly it’s mostly just a mouth movement.

“I love you, too,” he sighs.

“I’m having the marriage annulled.”

His eyelids flutter in rapid-fire blinks. “Annulled?”

“It was never consummated. The prenup wouldn’t apply, it would be like it never existed, because it didn’t.”

A look of genuine concern transforms his face. “Jesus, Gibson, how are you gonna manage that?”

“I’m going to make her agree to it.”

“How?”

“By offering her money. A lot of it.”

“Will she agree to that? ”

“Well, it’ll require a few things to go my way and some cooperation on the part of some of her former lovers, but ultimately yes. I think she’ll agree to it.”

“You’re not blackmailing her are you?”

“I don’t think of it like that. She’s welcome to tell anyone she wants that it was a divorce, and she made out great, but once she agrees, an annulment won’t be as complicated or take as long. It was my lawyer’s idea. I would have just taken the hit and dealt with the fallout, but if this works, it’s easier long run.”

“If she agrees.”

“Either way…it’s over. It needs to be over. Thank you for helping me see that.”

His gaze drops to my mouth, and he presses forward to kiss me. It’s a sweet, slow kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough.

“I know I said don’t do it for me, but I’m pretty sure I want you all to myself.”

“Yeah?”

“I should have better words for what I’m feeling, but I think I just like you better when you’re with me.”

I smile. “Me, too.”

“I know I can’t give you what she took from you, but I want you to know I think you’re the most amazing man. You’ve always been there for me, even before—I’m sorry if it’s weird to bring that up.”

“It’s not. We’re good.”

His forehead meets mine when he lets out a soft laugh. “I’ve always known I could count on you,” he says, “I’ve always trusted you. You were the first person I knew here.”

“You’re kind of a sap, you know?”

“I’m a poet. I don’t know what the fuck you expected.”

“I might have been blind drunk the first time I kissed you, but thank God for strong whiskey.”

“Seriously,” he laughs. “And you were so fucking hot that night. ”

I run my hand down his back, over his ass, and squeeze, remembering his eyeliner, wondering if I can talk him into putting that into a regular rotation. Not that he needs it. “How about now?”

“So much hotter.”

“Oh, now you’re hard,” I laugh, feeling the grind below my belt.

“Fucking nipple clamps?”

“Look, if you ever don’t want to work for me anymore, you’d make the most gorgeous BDSM model. I know people who can make that happen for you.”

He laughs between kisses on my neck. “I’ll let you take pictures, but that’s where I draw the line.”

“Christ, you’re a fucking wet dream. Get on my dick.” I turn onto my back, pulling him on top of me.

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up my phone, slam my laptop shut, stand, and snap my fingers to get Christian’s attention. “Up.”

He’s on his feet in an instant, and I don’t know if he recognizes the fierce need in my tone, or if his is boiling over, too. “Everything okay?” he asks.

“Fine.” I open up the desk drawer where I keep lube and shove the small bottle in my pocket.

I left multiple hickeys on his neck last night in all my reverence and enthusiasm. This morning, the memories of our desire have created a powerful blend of lust I haven’t been able to shake no matter what task I’ve tried to tackle. Striding to my office door, I open it and gesture him out.

“We going to my place?” he asks quietly.

Marianne is home, and though she’s likely still sleeping, we’ve gone back into secret affair mode. I can’t wait the time it would take to get down to the basement, though. My cock is erect and aching, balls tight with the load they want to spend. If I have to endure an elevator ride with him, I’ll combust.

The initial urge came about an hour ago when he was leaning over my shoulder to point out something I don’t remember on my computer screen. I’d caught his scent, both the top notes of his cologne and the pure maleness underneath. Memories of last night flooded me. He’d ridden me for what felt like days of intimate lovemaking, blowing my mind and cracking open my heart in the best way.

But now I need to wreck him. I had the foresight to know I’d get overwhelmed at some point, so I made arrangements after his armpit came so close to my face.

“We’re going to the roof,” I explain, once we’re out the front door.

“Fresh air?” he asks.

“Something like that.”

The nearby stairwell beckons, and we walk up. I resist the urge to shove him to the wall and take him here and now—that could be good, too, but it would ruin the surprise. One of these days, I’ll fuck him in a stairwell, but that fantasy will have to wait.

“Got another plan?” Christian asks when he sees the sign on the rooftop door marking it closed for maintenance.

I point at it. “This? I had the superintendent put it up an hour ago. The only thing needing maintenance today is my cock.”

He tugs the corner of his lip into his mouth, and I pull it free, stroking his chin before opening the door on the bright, sunny August day. “I want you completely naked,” I tell him.

“I have a slight fear of heights.”

“Perfect. Strip. And make it good.”

A breath punches out of him before he reaches up to loosen his tie. As he unbuttons his collar, more of my marks come into view—an angry violet in the stark sunlight. I lick my lips. I swear I can still taste him.

I may no longer feel capable of breaking his skin with a braided flogger so he can go someplace in his head that doesn’t include me, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop leaving reminders of who he belongs to all over him.

I unbuckle my belt while he works his way through his buttons. Opening my fly, I reach inside my boxer briefs to stroke myself, squeezing tight.

“I don’t get to watch?” he asks.

I arch a brow. “If you ask nicely.”

His head tilts in mock exasperation. “Please, Gibson. Show me your big dick.”

I give him a few peeks as I pull my foreskin back and forth over my crown. He stares as he lets his shirt fall to the ground and undoes his pants, a bit more rushed. Graceful as ever, he frees his legs and kicks off his shoes in the process, leaving him in black dress socks and nothing else.

It works for me.

His cock, as long and slender and perfect as he is, stands proud and tall, a shine bouncing off his tip. “I keep thinking about helicopters,” he says.

“You’re mine,” I tell him, advancing. “I don’t care who knows.”

“Fuck…”

Hands on his hips, I press our dicks together and walk him backward until his ass meets the concrete barrier keeping him from falling to his death. He gasps at the impact, grabbing my arms reflexively. It’s a high wall—hitting his mid back. It’s low enough to get a view if you lean over it, but high enough to shield what I’m about to do to him from a neighboring building.

His hair blows in the breeze, and I kiss him aggressively, taking over his mouth with my tongue. “I need you,” I say before kissing him again.

“Any particular reason?”

“You’ve turned me into an animal.”

“You’ve been an animal. I think I might have left the cage unlocked, though. ”

“ Mmph …” I kiss him again, briefly, before I can’t stand not being inside him anymore, and I turn him roughly around.

I take in his body, the supple curves of his ass, the smooth, muscled plane of his back, his long, lean thighs. I run a hand between them, wanting them spread. I take hold of my cock again and slap it against his ass as he does exactly what I want him to do, which is grab the barrier and present himself for me. “That’s right baby. Show me that pretty little hole.”

With every slap of my cock against his firm buttocks, I feel a fresh surge of lust. His asshole winks at me, and I give his flesh a firm smack, hard enough to sting my hand.

“ Ah —” he exhales as he comes up on his toes. “ Yes .”

“Mm… That’s for keeping me hard all morning.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

I spank him again. “This slutty hole has one job.”

“To let you use it?”

“To take me.”

His sac hangs heavy between his thighs, and I get a firm grip on it, massaging and pulling at it, stretching and squeezing it.

“ Fuck —Gibson. That feels good. Shit, I’m so hard.”

“I’ll show you hard.” Jesus, I’m an animal today.

Hurriedly, I unbutton my shirt and get the lube out of my pants before shoving them to my ankles. With my dick slick and coated, I spit on his hole, watching my saliva pool inside his opening. Guiding my dick with my hand, I punch through his always too-tight ring and sink deep, bottoming out in his ass.

We both grunt at the snug fit and the actualization of this primal need that rarely lets up between us. If anything, I want him more now than I did in the beginning. Every day, my desire to stake my claim kicks up a notch, like any moment might be our last.

But I refuse to believe that as I shove my cock through his tight, clenching channel, using only his hips to anchor and aim my thrusts .

It’s not the most loving way to fuck someone, but he’ll have to forgive my selfishness. He has no idea what the sight of him can do to me.

“ Unh…fuck …” he groans, throwing his head back before dropping it between his shoulders. I smack his ass for the slight jiggle it gives when I pound him harder. He whimpers, and I do it again on his other cheek.

The smack of flesh on flesh is loud—even by New York standards. Our balls slap together which feels singularly unreal, and my hips thud against his ass. “You’re gonna come for me like this.”

“ Fuck …”

I smack him with an underhand again. “Say yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir. I’m gonna come for you. You’re gonna make me come just like this.”

“That’s right, baby. Nothing but my cock in this pretty hole, because this is my hole, and you are mine .”

“Yes. I’m yours. I’m so fucking yours .”

I step into him, repositioning his hips to get a better angle on his prostate, and he definitely notices. “Jesus Christ. Fuck, that’s so goddamn good.”

“Tell me about it, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“Your cock’s so thick and hot,” he sputters as I rail him even harder. “I need your cum. I need to feel it.”

“You’re gonna feel me all day, Christian. Now make some fucking noise.” I grab him by the shoulder to get some extra leverage, and I thoroughly wreck his ass. Up here, in the open air, with the man I love so profoundly crying out for me, all the darkest and lightest parts of me find asylum. The way his body opens and welcomes me, the ever-present veil of resistance he allows me to break through, the cries of pleasure he doesn’t hold back—give me the kind of freedom I haven’t felt since I first came to the city, independent and alive with possibility.

I’ve found myself again in him .

“ Umph…oh God… ”

“What’s that, baby?”

“Gonna come.”

“Fuck, yeah. Give it to me,” I grunt, slowing down enough to really feel him on my cock. The tight friction on my shaft is electrifying. I’m not even finished, and I already want him again. On my desk. On his knees. Inside me .

We come at the same time, releasing twin cries that carry with the wind. Carefully, I rock back and forth, stroking out every drop of cum I can possibly leave inside him while aftershocks tremble through my limbs and blood rushes to my head, making our surroundings fuzzy.

His load splatters on the concrete barrier loudly enough to make its own sound. His knees give out, and I have to catch him as he stumbles forward. I pull him to my chest and bite down on his shoulder as one more surge pulses out of me. His head falls against mine like a rag doll’s as he lets me support his body weight. “That was…”

“Hm?” I’d love to hear his word for it. I certainly can’t come up with one.

“The best.”

“Ever?” I press him.

“Fucking ever. ”

“Mmm…not sure how I feel about that,” I say, kissing the spot where I bit him.

“Proud?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to set a new bar.”

His laugh is soft as he raises an arm and cradles my head against his. I’m reluctant to slide out of him, but my cock is softening, and he’s so relaxed, he won’t be able to hold me much longer.

My dick slips out. He groans when I rush to stuff my cum back inside him with my fingers. I plug him. His slick, wet heat around my fingers is just as good as it had been on my cock. “I love your body.”

“I can tell.”

I huff. Fair. “We should go out to the Hamptons this weekend. Just us.”

“What about…”

Everything?

That’s what I’m guessing he wants to say.

“I don’t know. I might need a little more convincing before I upend my entire life.”

He shifts, shooting a glare at me.

I grin. “I have a plan, and it’s gonna be a few days. But being here is gonna drive me crazy.”

“Yeah, I get it. Me too.”

“You okay?” I ask him, checking in again.

“I trust you,” he says, which isn’t entirely reassuring, but I’ll take it.

“You can, you know?” I ask, kissing the corner of his mouth with my fingers still swimming inside him. “I promise.”