Chapter Three: Jamie
The door to Jonathan’s flat clicked shut behind them, the soft thud of it sealing off the rest of the world. Silence hung for a breath, then Jamie turned, backing Jonathan against the wall with a rough kiss — all teeth and hunger.
Jonathan’s hands slid up under Jamie’s damp shirt, exploring the tight muscles of his abdomen, the defined lines that led down to his belt. Jamie’s skin was warm and smooth, a thin sheen of sweat still clinging to him from the night air. He groaned into Jonathan’s mouth as fingers explored his ribs, his sides, his sharp hip bones.
“I’ve been thinking about this since you stopped me on the street,” Jamie murmured, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion.
His chest was lightly tanned, hairless, nipples firm. Lean muscle, hard-earned but not sculpted for show — a body that lived fast, moved constantly. Jonathan’s mouth found his collarbone, then lower, kissing and licking a path across his chest. Jamie gasped when teeth grazed his nipple.
Clothes came off in a frenzy. Buttons slipped, trousers dropped, boxers shoved aside. Jonathan took a step back to take in the sight: Jamie completely naked in the hallway, lit by the city’s orange glow from the window. He was long and slender, a taut body with just enough softness around the hips to invite touch. His cock stood fully hard, thick and flushed, curving slightly upward with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip.
Jonathan reached out, wrapping his hand around it, stroking slowly, watching the way Jamie’s jaw tensed, how his body leaned into the touch. Jamie’s own hand went to Jonathan’s waistband, pushing the last of his clothes aside until they stood chest to chest, skin on skin, both of them hard and aching.
“You’ve got a beautiful cock,” Jamie whispered, reaching between them. “Thick. Heavy. I want to feel it inside me.”
Jonathan groaned, the heat building low and heavy in his stomach. He pulled Jamie into the bedroom, their mouths crashing together again. They fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and desire, hands everywhere — over shoulders, down spines, gripping thighs, stroking lengths.
Jamie rolled onto his stomach, looking back over his shoulder. “Lube’s in my bag,” he said, breathless. “Or yours, if you’re better prepared.”
Jonathan chuckled darkly, retrieving the bottle from his drawer. “I don’t usually do this,” he muttered, voice thick with lust.
Jamie glanced at him with a crooked smile. “You’re doing it now.”
Jonathan knelt behind him, spreading Jamie open with both hands — the view made his mouth water. He took his time, slicking his fingers, teasing Jamie open with slow, deliberate care. Jamie whimpered, hips rolling back to meet each press.
“Don’t tease,” he breathed. “I can take it.”
And Jonathan gave in — guided himself to the tight heat of Jamie’s body and pushed in, slow and steady, the grip nearly unbearable. Jamie groaned, biting into a pillow, muscles clenching around him.
He sank in deeper, one hand gripping Jamie’s hip, the other braced on the mattress. The feeling — the heat, the stretch, the utter surrender — made his whole body shudder.
“Harder,” Jamie begged. “Don’t hold back.”
And Jonathan didn’t.
He thrust deep, steady at first, then harder, faster, as Jamie rocked back to meet him, both of them lost in the rhythm, the slick slap of bodies in the dark. Every moan, every gasp, was a shared language neither of them needed to explain.
Jonathan wrapped a hand around Jamie’s cock, stroking in time with every thrust. Jamie’s whole body tensed, his voice breaking on a cry as he came in hot, pulsing streaks across the sheets. The tight grip around Jonathan made him curse, hips jerking erratically until he spilled deep inside him with a growl.
They collapsed together, breathless, sweaty, tangled in limbs and pleasure and something unspoken.
Jamie turned his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Told you. You needed that.”
Jonathan let out a rough, satisfied laugh. “You’ve got no idea.” |
