Page 56 of Constantly Cotton
“That was amazing,” he said, using his palm to wipe some of the glaze off his lips.
Cotton wanted—needed—to kiss him again, and he captured Jason’s swollen, come-covered mouth with his own. Jason let out an ecstatic little gasp, and Cotton plundered some more, mad for Jason’s taste, his happy sounds, his pure joy in something Cotton had written off as fun but not profound.
Jason’s hums of pleased surrender were some of the most tremendous things Cotton had ever heard.
Cotton rolled him over to his back and fumbled with his fly. He yearned to see this body naked again, but active, excited, a holy temple for the man who had made him feel useful and smart and desired.
And it was just as beautiful as Cotton remembered: thick, long, but more than that. Jason almost purred as Cotton stroked him, and when Cotton looked up at his face, his tongue extended, Jason gave a happy little wriggle.
Jason wanted his touch. Not just wanted it—needed it. And not just any touch.
Cotton’s.
Ten years of holding off, waiting for someone he could trust, someone who would care for him and make it important, and Cotton was that person. Cotton closed his eyes and took Jason into his mouth and sucked gently, plying his tongue, playing and titillating and arousing, until Jason gave a moan and then pushed Cotton off.
“I have plans,” he said.
Cotton stared at him, surprised. “Yes?” Oh, he’d loved to be topped.Achedfor it. But topping was physical and demanding and….
“If I have to sleep all day tomorrow,” Jason swore, “yes.” He shoved himself up and cupped Cotton’s cheek with his palm. “Come on, sweetheart, I swear, I won’t hurt you.”
Cotton thought of telling him that of course he would; he was going to leave, and Cotton was never going to be okay again.
He forced that out of his mind and his heart. Jason didn’t want to leave him, of that he was sure.
“Okay,” Cotton murmured, lying back, tacitly hoping they could do this face-to-face. He pulled his knees up, splaying himself out, and smiled a little into Jason’s eyes. “It’s your playground. You already tried the swings.”
Jason’s low laughter made him smile, and he reached for the lubricant Cotton had shown him in the end table the night before.
They’d talked about being safe—Cotton had been tested with absolute clockwork when he’d worked for Johnnies, and he was still on PrEP now. Jason was on PrEP too, and while he hadn’t explained why, Cotton had guessed.
If you had contact with other people’s blood a lot, being protected was a good idea.
But that’s not what they were doing here. Jason had grabbed the lubricant and was slicking him up, one finger stretching him sweetly, and Cotton tilted his head back and allowed the warm ache to take him over.
This wasn’t about hurting at all, Cotton thought, as Jason added another finger. This was all about healing, and Cotton’s body, electrified and buzzing from want, completely agreed.
“Please,” Cotton breathed. “Please.”
Jason moved, shifting so he was between Cotton’s splayed knees, notching himself into Cotton’s stretched entrance.
“Please?” Jason murmured, lowering his head for a kiss, and another, and another.
And while he kissed, he slid in, slowly, arching his back so they could kiss while he entered. With a lunge, Cotton scooted forward, taking him all in and wrapping his legs around Jason’s hips to hold him tight.
Oh God, he had this man inside him, this amazing, strong man who seemed to care for him and touched him with such reverence Cotton could cry. And he wasinside Cotton,and Cotton never wanted to let him go.
Jason gasped softly and pumped once, experimentally, until Cotton cried out, needing.
Again and again Jason pumped his hips, thrusting deep and pulling back, the rhythm as necessary as heartbeat or breath. Cotton’s entire body shook, and Cotton began to beg.“Harder, oh please, harder, faster, oh God, my skin, it’s going to explode, I need you inside me, all of you, fill me, oh please, Jason, please!”
Jason grunted, hips thrusting, and kept up the solid, powerful fuck that didn’t just take Cotton over, itownedhim. He didn’t say anything but scowled, concentrating, as he took Cotton places Cotton swore he’d been but had never seen for the magic they really were.
Up! Up! Up! until Cotton’s body quaked and Jason shoved inside him one last time, crying out, filling him, scalding and real and—oh God, Cotton couldn’t, he couldn’t, his heart, it couldn’t—
“Augh!”
He was too breathless for it to be a scream, but it was loud, and he could have no more controlled the sound than he could have controlled the weather. He started to come again, his entire body shorting out, synapses firing out of rhythm and rhyme, body moving spasmodically as he lost complete control in orgasm.
