Free Mind (Naughty Wishes #3) by Joey W. Hill

a handful of buttock in each hot palm, squeezing, learning every inch of him. Talk about delayed gratification. He had to force himself to focus. This wasn’t just about him.
    “So I come to you in the dark. Maybe you don’t even acknowledge it’s me. But you know. You know the touch of my hands, the way I want to use you. Maybe you’ve already had Sam that night, fucked her, spilled yourself inside her. But it’s not enough. You bring her to sweet climax again by licking her cunt and sucking on her pretty nipples. You remember how tight they were after you put your mouth on them? You give her satisfaction but you leave yourself hurting for it. First, because you know she’s exhausted, and you don’t want to be a brute. When you leave her sleeping, you tell yourself you’re done. But you know you aren’t. Not until you’ve been fucked by me. Your second climax belongs to me.”
    He pressed his erection against Chris’s ass. “Maybe you haven’t let yourself fantasize about it, Chris, but I have. I’ll loan you that fantasy and about a dozen more until you can think up some on your own. As much as I’ve loved thinking about every inch of your body, I’ve spent as much time thinking about what you say to me, how you respond, how close we’ve gotten—way closer than just fucking. And when I go to bed with those kind of fantasies, I wake up hurting. Needing.”
    Chris made a noise, one Geoff wasn’t sure how to interpret, but it wasn’t rejection. More like some of the same kind of primal hunger. He slid down to the backs of Chris’s knees and found the lubricant where he’d left it. “No talking now,” he said in a gruff voice. “You just feel. Feel what I’m doing. How I’m making you ready for me.”
    “Geoff.”
    “Yeah, bud?” He curved over him, a hand braced by his shoulder. The position trailed the head of his cock over Chris’s buttocks, the small of his back. Geoff suppressed the desire to push it more firmly against him and rub like a damn cat in heat. Or a male marking territory.
    “You meant it, right? I’m not some casual fuck. Not like the others.” Chris tensed. “I’m not being a fucking girl, either. I’m just saying . . .”
    “First off, there weren’t that many ‘others,’” Geoff said with a lightness he didn’t feel. “But I get it. You’re saying if I didn’t mean what I just said, that this is something more, I need to get the fuck off of you and get the hell out of your room.Right?”
    Chris nodded.
    “Okay. Pay attention, then, since I thought I made that way clear the first time.”
    Geoff gripped his hair and slammed his mouth down on his. This time he unleashed everything that was surging through him below the waist, as well as through his heart and every blood cell.
    Chris groaned, and the sound became the rumble of a waking bear. The muscles beneath Geoff bunched, gathered, but before he could counter, Chris tossed him, spinning over in the dark to grab at him.
Fuck.
He had about a second to remember the other thing that first Dom mentor had told him.
    Never underestimate a sub’s physical reaction to stimuli.
    He’d definitely miscalculated this one’s. With Chris’s hands bound, he had less control over the maneuver. Geoff’s head cracked into the wooden crate Chris used as a side table. Whatever was on it toppled and, when Geoff slid to a stop, half on and half off the mattress, he was pretty sure a couple of books were stabbing him between the shoulder blades. A beer bottle had prevented his head from bouncing off the much more forgiving carpeted floor.
    “Geoff.”
Chris was on his knees over him, breath harsh. “I can’t . . . I’ve got the belt knotted, or something. Are you okay?” He was moving, scrambling away. “Fuck. I’ll get the light . . .”
    Summoning a quick snapshot of what was in the room and gauging Chris’s direction, Geoff rolled and caught his ankle and knee in two strong hands. It felled Chris like a tree,