Page 84 of Hurricane Love

“You want me to lead?” Wylie asked because he didn’t want to make any assumptions.

“Please?” Diego answered.

Wylie felt a surge of power then, one that was unique to their dynamic, and he told Diego exactly how many strokes he was allowed to give himself. “I’m going to count them out for you. Keep time with me,” he said.

Diego nodded and started pumping his cock, matching his strokes to the cadence of Wylie’s voice. His eyes were focused intently on Wylie during the first round but by the second, they started to flutter and eventually close as Diego leaned back against his pillows, surrendering control.

“Now stop,” Wylie commanded, now at the end of their third round.

Diego raised his head, pouting adorably, and gave him the sad eyes. “Wy, come on,” he said pitifully, squirming on the bed because he wasn’t allowed to stroke himself anymore and he wanted—needed—the friction.

If Wylie could be granted one single wish, it would be toteleport to Diego’s bedroom so he could finish him off himself, preferably with his mouth around that gorgeous cock, but he had to content himself with orchestrating Diego’s every move.

“It’s like a workout, babe, you gotta see how many sets you can do. Consider this dick day.”

Diego huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Sometimes I hate the way your mind works,” he grumbled.

“I know, I’m the worst. Can you go again without coming?”

“I mean, if I have to.”

“You have to. Now, show me.”

They started again. Diego’s chest was flushed and his abs clenched from the tension. Those pecs were distracting as hell and Wylie kept glancing up from his dick to see them jump. The vein in Diego’s neck was popping and his jaw was clenched, revealing just how much of an effort this was for him.

“Stop,” Wylie said.

“Wylie Fox Sommers,” Diego groaned.

“So much self-control. So disciplined. So good at following directions. I know it’s hard, baby, but you’re almost there,” Wylie crooned. “Take a deep breath now and relax you shoulders. This time, I’ll let you come.”

“Will you?” Diego grumbled.

“I will, I promise.” Diego’s nostrils flared and he searched Wylie’s face for the truth. “Have I ever lied to you?” Wylie asked.

“No,” the man answered with a hint of petulance.

“Then trust me. Start again, slow.”

Diego did as he was told, long, slow pumps from root to tip using only the slickness of his precum. Wylie counted them out, accidentally thrusting his own hips on instinct. He had to squeeze his dick at the base so that he didn’t accidentally combust in the middle of the show.

When Wylie picked up the pace, Diego did too, matching the rhythm of his voice stroke for stroke. Wylie wanted to praise him, but he didn’t want to break their stride or his promise, so he kept counting, higher and higher until at last, Diego froze, shouldershunched, muscles tight, having a private moment to himself as his cock suddenly pulsed and shot long ropes of cum onto his chest and abs. A small, helpless moan slipped out of Diego’s mouth, and Wylie savored it, as he did all his lover’s sounds, locking them away in his spank bank to be used for later.

“That’s it,” Wylie said when Diego started to come down again, lying back against his pillows with a glazed look in his eyes. He hadn’t even bothered to wipe himself down, his skin still splattered with cum and glistening with sweat. “That was so good, baby. You did exactly what I told you to do, and I loved watching you. Wish I was there to lick you clean. Where’s your water?”

Diego tossed his hat somewhere across the room and located his discarded shirt to wipe himself down, then reached for the glass of water by his bedside and drank the whole thing in one go. By then it was nearing two in the morning, and Diego had to be up soon for an early shift.

“Did you come?” Diego asked as an afterthought.

“Later. Lean the phone against my pillow so I can watch you fall asleep.”

“Alright,” Diego said, always so agreeable after sex. Not bothering to redress, he fixed the phone on Wylie’s side of the bed and pulled the sheet up to his waist. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his sleepy eyes drooped and he blinked back at him slowly.

“I really needed that,” Diego said.

“Yeah, me too.”

“I didn’t take a shower,” he murmured, probably thinking about the cum drying on his stomach.