He pressed Damiano’s face harder against his neck, silently asking for more bites. For more marks.
Damiano obliged, sucking hard all over his neck, his firm, hard body wonderfully heavy and grounding on top of him.
Jordan panted, feeling like he could expire from sheer pleasure and desperation. He’d never needed anyone this much. He roamed his greedy hands all over Damiano’s hair, his shoulders, his smooth, muscular arms, hating that he couldn’t touch his back, hating that he couldn’t even hold him properly. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted—he wanted… He wanted to take him inside his body, feel him on the deepest possible level.
“Let me suck your cock,” he blurted out as he realized what he wanted. Taking a part of Damiano’s body into his own, giving him pleasure, feeling him from the inside… it had a twisted, messed-up appeal that had nothing to do with him liking to suck cock on occasion. It wasn’t about sex. He just needed him closer. Needed an outlet for the needy, messy feeling in his chest. “Give me your cock.”
Damiano was very still on top of him, his body rigid with tension. “I’m not gay,” he said after a moment, but Jordan could feel him twitch against his thigh, hardening.
“Who cares?” Jordan said, slipping his hand between them and palming Damiano’s cock through his boxer-briefs before pulling it out. It was gratifyingly half-hard already and quickly grew to full hardness at his touch. “Maybe it’ll help—fix us. Come on. Let me suck it.”
Damiano was breathing harshly into his neck, his cock hot and throbbing in Jordan’s hand. “What about Raffaele?” he gritted out, his teeth sinking into his neck again. His voice became nasty as he said, “Your boyfriend?”
Jordan shivered, giving him better access. He hoped there would be marks. “Don’t want him. Want you.”
Damiano let out an unsteady breath and didn’t say anything for a while. Jordan was fine with it, stroking Damiano’s cock and enjoying how warm, thick, and firm it was in his hand.
“Fine,” Damiano said at last, sitting up. The corners of his mouth were tight, unhappy, as if his cock wasn’t rock hard. “Get on the floor.”
If it were any other man, Jordan would have told him to fuck off. On the few occasions he’d sucked cock, it was in the comfort of his marriage bed, with his wife giving him pointers and encouragement along the way. It had never been about the men. Male bodies or faces didn’t do anything for him. He only liked cock. His fascination with cock was similar to his fascination with breasts: the bigger the better, and they felt good in his mouth, felt good to suck on. He’d never been attracted to anything attached to a cock. Jordan had never cared about pleasing the man the cock belonged to, much less obeying him. It had always been about his own fun, not the other man’s.
But it wasn’t just any other man.
Part of him despised how much he needed this, needed this cold-hearted man, wanted to please him, make him feel good, but maybe it was okay. It was just for tonight, so it was okay. Just for this one night, he could get on his knees in front of this man, ignore the cold marble against his knees, the discomfort and confusion, and let Damiano feed him his cock.
He moaned around it, trying to take it all, trying to get him as deep inside him as he could, embarrassingly eager in a way he’d never been about blowjobs. Damiano’s fingers tightened in his hair to the point of pain.
Damiano was eerily quiet as he fucked Jordan’s mouth, only the unsteadiness of his breathing betraying his pleasure. When Jordan looked up at him, he saw his gray eyes watching him, transfixed, as his cock pistoned in and out of Jordan’s mouth.
Jordan let him, let him use him, just taking it, and loving every second of it. He loved the way his lips were stretched wide to accommodate the girth of Damiano’s cock, the way the friction stimulated his sensitive mouth, the taste and the texture. He moaned around the cock, unable to get enough, wanting to milk it dry. He craved Damiano’s come, he realized with baffled embarrassment. He wanted his stomach to be full of it, have proof of pleasing Damiano and making him feel good. The thought appealed to him immensely: to have Damiano’s bodily fluids deep inside him. Like a branding. A branding only they would know about. A tiny part of Damiano inside his body, invisible but there.
Fuck, it was a good thing he was leaving tomorrow and he’d never see this man again.
But instead of comforting him, the thought only made him more desperate. He bobbed his head, roughly fucking his mouth on Damiano’s leaking cock, hungry, so very hungry. Come in me, come in me, come in me.