but not willing to trust.

“I’m giving you what you want, so you’ll give me what I want,” Derek said, running his fingers across John’s chest and pinching a nipple, making John gasp. “It’s a simple business transaction.”

Helpless to stop it and unable to speed it up, John watched with breathless need as Derek eased onto his dick. Gripping it with one hand, Derek held it steady, and when the head popped in John groaned, unable to bear the tight, clenching squeeze. He felt himself go in deeper, deeper, until his dick was buried in hot, contracting muscle and Derek was moaning his name.

John couldn’t stop moaning, curling his hands around the bedposts and fighting for breath, staring into Derek’s eyes. The heat there was incredible. As calm and as casual as Derek was, there was sexual passion within that only came out when they were alone. John loved pushing Derek to that place, loved to light that flame.

With one hand behind himself gripping John’s thigh, Derek curved his other hand over John’s shoulder, digging his fingers in and rising up just enough to drop down again. The movement made John’s eyes roll back in his head; he gripped the bedposts more tightly, sweating and shuddering, making low, feral noises. Derek did it again and again, finding a rhythm, rising and falling, providing him with the constant friction of a relentless in and out. The burn of Derek’s gaze was passionate and the clutch of Derek’s hands was so tight it was almost painful, but the sensation of pure fucking was so brutal it was almost deadly. The intensity of it was ripping harsh groans from John’s throat, and the longer it lasted the louder he got.

Derek was riding his dick fast, pushing the beat, moaning his name and arching like it hurt. When Derek’s head tilted back, his long neck was exposed, and John’s gaze traveled down, down his chest, the small pink points of his nipples, the ripple of his abs, the long, thick, hardness of his erection. Seeing how hard Derek was made John’s own dick throb, and hearing Derek’s moans of fervent pleasure made John louder, more aroused, more aware of exactly what they were doing to each other.

“Give me what I want.”

The force of Derek’s low, urgent question cut through the chaos of John’s need. His eyes focused with new attention on Derek’s face.

“Give me what I want.”
It was blackmail. Derek had him hostage, had his body under siege, controlled the moment. John struggled for one full breath, licking the salt of sweat from his upper lip and staring at Derek in shock. “Never.”

Derek stopped moving.

John groaned, twisting his hands around the bedposts, unable to believe what was happening to him, frustrated that Derek’s weight was pinning him down and he couldn’t even move his fucking hips. And then Derek was chest to chest against him, kissing him, making fierce wet love to his mouth, stroking his arms and sides with hot hands. “Give me,” Derek insisted with quiet urgency, “give me what I want.”

Desperation had settled into John’s bones. He needed to fuck, he needed to come, he needed to have his hands free so that he could be back in control of what was happening to him. He wanted to grab Derek and fuck Derek his way on his terms.

“Tell me,” Derek said, licking at his