Page 47 of The Prodigal Son

“Finally,” I mutter under my breath. His arm brushes mine, and I notice the itch in my palm with how badly I’d like to hold his hand. Instead, I settle for feeling the breeze off his body as we run toward the back door that leads to the lot.

We don’t make it to the door, though. Out of nowhere, his hand wraps around my bicep and tugs me into a dark corner. I gasp as my back hits a black brick wall.

Then his lips are on mine. With shock, I push him away and glance around to be sure we’re really alone. When I notice we’re hidden behind a mountain of black boxes and a forklift, I smile and haul his mouth back to mine.

Our movements are rushed and rabid, hands roaming and pulling and grabbing. His large hands squeeze my hip and my ass. I explore his chest and shoulder while devouring his kiss.

“Shhh,” he whispers against my mouth as his hands fumble for my belt.

My heart is hammering in my chest. Is he really going to touch me here? As much as I want to tell him this is a bad idea, I’m too fucking eager to feel his hands on my cock.

“Jensen,” I whisper with my head against the wall as he quickly undoes my pants and tugs them open. Then he stares into my eyes as he reaches a hand in and wraps it around my length.

I let out a husky gasp, so he slams his other hand over my mouth. “I said to be quiet,” he whispers against my cheek with a smirk. Pulling back, he spits into his palm and returns it to my cock to cover it with saliva.

Moving his hand away from my mouth, he kisses the moans from my lips as he starts to roughly stroke my dick to life. It is already half-hard, and he quickly works it to throbbing.

“Fuck,” I whisper. There are voices and people shuffling around us, but we are hidden out of sight, at least until someone needs to move these crates and climb into that forklift.

As his hand squeezes my cock, stroking it hard, he kisses his way along my jaw. I’m putty in his hands. I can hardly move.

When his lips reach my ear, he bites the lobe, making me whimper.

“What are you doing to me?” I gasp.

“I’m showing you how good I’m going to take care of you,” he replies. “I want you to bemine.”

On that word,mine,he squeezes just under the head of my cock, and my eyes start to roll.

“I want to be yours,” I breathe.

“I want to be the one to make you feel good, Theo. I’ll be here after every show, and I’ll take care of what’s mine. I’ve got you, understand?”

“Yes.” My voice cracks as the pleasure builds.

He’s stroking me fast, taking me to the brink of pain and pleasure. My body is tight and ready to explode, but there’s a sense of panic under the surface, keeping me from finishing.

But then he growls in my ear and says, “Now be a good boy and come for me.”

And that’s it. I clutch tightly to his body as I’m pummeled by the euphoria. It crashes into me like a storm, causing my muscles to tighten and my body to contort as I ride the wave. There is no keeping in the sounds as I come hard. The sensation spreads through my body like wildfire.

I fist his shirt and bury my face in his neck as it pulses over and over and over again.

“That’s it,” he whispers in my ear. “Good boy.”

I’m panting against his shoulder for a while before he laughs and kisses my head.

“You’ll have to let me borrow a shirt for the ride over to the hotel,” he adds with humor.

As I pull back, I look down to find his red polo covered in cum stains.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” I say.

He kisses my forehead. “Don’t be sorry. I’m proud to wear your cum on my shirt.”

Goddamn if that doesn’t make me hot.

“Now let’s get the fuck out of here,” he adds as he buttons my pants back up and replaces my belt. I watch him with fascination as he does.

---