3. Maddox

We don’t do it that night. This is a big change for us. But I saw it coming. Zane is ravenous in bed. He loves my dick. Zane also loves when I take charge in other ways.

Our roles are incredibly fluid. We trade power back and forth in the ways that turn us both on. But the other thing that turns us on is talking, so that night when we go home, I tell him to sit on the edge of the bed and I drop down to my knees. Before I suck him off, I tease him with words, outlining how I imagine we’ll switch.

By the time I finally take him in my mouth, he’s a hot, panting mess and he comes in a mere minute. I drink him all down.

The next night, he ties me up and plays with my cock. He fondles me slowly and torturously, so luxuriously that I’m babbling and begging. But I hear every dirty promise of what he wants to do with my dick.

The next night it is on. When I come home from work and shut the door, I drink in our home.

He’s already set the mood.

The lights are low. Seductive music plays throughout the rooms. I’m sure the bed is ready too. My man knows what he’s doing. Especially when he calls out to me from the living room. My wingtips click as I walk across the hardwood and enter the room. I find him sitting casually on the couch, wearing tight slacks and a Bespoke shirt. He holds a tumbler of amber liquid, looking like a dark, dirty sex king. He stares at me and looks me up and down. Licks his lips. Takes a drink. Sets down the glass on the table. “Did you bring me a gift?”

I tug on my purple tie, heating up already. “Yes,” I say, then slowly roam my hand down the front of my shirt, over my belt, to my pants. I squeeze my cock, already hardening. “I brought you your favorite thing.”

Zane breathes in and out sharply. “Good. Been wanting that present.”

“You dream of it,” I say, rubbing the heel of my palm along my growing erection.

“You know I fucking do. The things I want to do with your dick,” he says. He takes another drink then puts it back down. As he licks his lips, he beckons me closer with one finger.

That dominant move heats me up.

I step closer to him and he hands me the glass. I take a sip, savoring the burn of the bourbon. Then I muse, “I wonder how this would taste if I was on my knees,” I say.

I’m making my desires clear too. And he knows what to do. He turns my wishes into orders.

“Get down on your knees,” he growls. The commanding tone makes my dick thump. I drop to the floor. He leans close, roughly cups my jaw, tugs my face to his and claims my lips in a possessive kiss. Tasting the liquor on them.

And so we begin.

With me on my knees, he grabs me by the tie and pulls me closer to him. His lips are inches from mine as he says, “Take off your clothes for me. Do it slow and sexy. Tease me.”

Lust skates down my spine and I stand, undoing the tie then tossing it to him. I unbutton my shirt and kick off my shoes and socks. The slacks go next. Then I’m down to my boxers and his eyes are feral as they travel over me. His tongue darts out as he stares at the outline of my dick, tenting the front of my boxer briefs.

“Show me my gift.” It comes out as half command, half strangled plea. He’s breaking under the weight of his desire. I’m breaking too.

Heat races up and down my body as I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my boxer briefs, push them down, then off. His chest rises and falls. His eyes pop. And his hand betrays him. It goes to his bulge, unbidden, like he can’t help himself. He’s rubbing his cock over his clothes. “Fuck, Maddox. I fucking want you. Look what you do to me. Want to see you stroke that dick for me,” he says.

Naked, I stand before my fully-dressed lover, fondling my cock.

“Yes, fucking love that,” he groans.

I put on a show, rocking into my fist. Till he’s panting, wild, then carnal as he roars. “Bedroom now.”

I smile wickedly. “Yes, sir.”

I thought I’d be nervous. But I’m not. Zane and I have pushed boundaries since we met. This is our new one, and we’ll push it together.

And when we cross it, our intimacy will intensify.

It always does, whatever we do after dark.