But he couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
He wasn’t that much of an asshole. He’d never hurt anyone without their fully informed consent.
Besides, this wasn’t really sex. The boy was just curious. This wouldn’t go anywhere. Ian was straight—he’d go back to being straight as soon as this was over. He was aroused because Miles was pushing his buttons, not because he was into men all of a sudden.
Miles pulled off his cock. “I must be really terrible at this,” he said, squinting at him. “You’re barely even out of breath.”
Was he pouting? It had no right to be so damn cute.
Ian tapped him on the nose with his thumb. “You’re not completely terrible. I’m just a grown man, not your agemate. It takes more to excite me than a very mediocre blowjob.”
Miles scowled. “I take my words back. You’re still an asshole, and I hate you.”
Ian smiled, amused despite himself. He liked this kid. A little too much, actually, or they wouldn’t be in this situation. He had little patience for people he didn’t like.
“So what does excite you?” Miles said, stroking Ian’s cock absentmindedly, his gaze intent on Ian.
“What?” Ian said, clearing his throat a little.
“What does excite you?” Miles repeated, licking his swollen, pretty lips. “Do you think you can just say stuff like that and I’ll let it go? I’m a Hardaway.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Ian said, his mouth twitching as he gazed at the stubborn, determined expression on Miles’s face.
“I have five siblings,” Miles said. “We’re a competitive bunch. So tell me. What can I do to make this blowjob better than just mediocre?”
Ian studied him.
He knew he shouldn’t even consider it. It was one thing to indulge the boy because he amused him, and it was completely another to tell Miles what actually got him off.
“I like it rough,” he said, watching Miles’s expression through half-lidded eyes. “I like being the aggressor. I like making it hurt.”
Miles didn’t even blink.
He just stared at Ian for a long moment, his face slightly pink.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “How much?”
“What?” Ian said.
“How much do you like making it hurt?”
Ian threaded his fingers through Miles’s hair as he contemplated his answer. “Not all that much,” he said at last. “I’m not that much of a sadist. Pain for the sake of pain isn’t the point. I like the dynamic, the power trip.” And the feeling of my girlfriend’s absolute, total trust.
Ian didn’t say it, since it was irrelevant in this case.
“Okay,” Miles said softly. “Let’s do it. How do you want me?”
Ian’s cock, which had softened considerably since Miles stopped sucking it, went to full-mast again.
Ian cleared his throat. “Just relax and let me do all the work.”
Miles nodded and did as he was told, looking at him expectantly.
Ian eyed him for a moment before straightening up. Gone was his lazy sprawl against the couch. He seated himself on the edge of the couch, cradled Miles face with his hands, watching a lovely blush spread through Miles’s face before bringing Miles’s mouth to his erect cock and feeding it to him. He groaned quietly as warmth coated his aching cock. Ian angled the boy’s face the way he wanted, at an angle that allowed him to push deeper inside that wet heat. He felt Miles’s choke slightly, his throat trying to adjust to his considerable length. Ian hissed at the feeling of incredible tightness around his cock, greedily taking in Miles’s wide-eyed, overwhelmed expression. Fuck, he looked beautiful with his mouth full of his cock.
He pulled out and thrust back in. Pulled him closer, demanding more. Miles whimpered, tears springing to his green eyes. But he only opened his mouth wider, his eyes slipping shut as Ian’s cock started fucking into his welcoming, wet mouth.
“Tap me on my knee if you want me to stop,” Ian ground out, burying his hands in Miles’s hair again and yanking him onto his cock to meet his hard thrusts.
Miles didn’t tap. He allowed Ian to use his mouth however he pleased, beautifully pliant and eager to please him. It drove Ian absolutely fucking crazy. He found himself thrusting into Miles’s mouth at a dizzying rhythm, half-folded in his effort to get deeper, fuck harder. He curled so far that his chest arched over Miles’s head, low moans leaving his mouth as Miles’s throat kept squeezing around him. Fuck, this felt so good, and the choked sounds and whimpers the boy was making around his cock just turned him on even more.
“Good boy,” Ian praised him, stroking Miles’s ears, his cheeks, before settling his hands on Miles’s throat. He squeezed it slightly and a moan left Miles’s mouth. It wasn’t a moan of distress.
Intrigued, Ian squeezed his throat harder, slamming so deep inside it he could feel his own cock from the outside—shit, fucking hell. Ian’s hips moved faster and faster, his hands squeezing the boy’s neck. Fuck—