Luke Anderson was not going to come first.
He repeated the mantra over and over inside his head as he held his hands out to be bound. Justin Collins deftly buckled the soft leather around his wrists. Tugging on the chain between the cuffs, he positioned Luke on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed.
Justin attached the cuffs to a little hook screwed into the headboard for that precise purpose. He pulled at the chain, testing how securely it would hold Luke in place. The metal links clinked together. Luke took a deep breath. All his best sexual experiences occurred to that theme song. The sound went straight to his cock.
Luke was still not going to come first. He was Luke Anderson, newest and highest flying barrister in the best chambers in London. He could bloody well do anything he set his mind to.
Justin's hand applied pressure-a steady pressure to the back of his neck. Luke lowered himself onto his elbows. The pressure didn't ease. Luke turned his palms up and rested his head in his hands. Head down and arse up, Luke closed his eyes. He told himself for the thousandth time it must be possible.
Just because he hadn't outlasted Justin yet, didn't mean he couldn't do it. He just needed to focus. He was twenty-three years old-five years older than his lover. He'd topped and bottomed more partners than he could count or remember in both genders. False modesty and jokes aside, Luke was well aware he knew tricks even most really expensive professionals hadn't mastered.
He shifted his knees further apart on the mattress as Justin moved into position, kneeling on the bed behind him. He had to outlast Justin just once, just so he knew he could do it. Just for pride's sake, because Luke knew his lack of self restraint was the only thing that kept sex with Justin from being perfect.
Justin's fingers slipped briefly inside him, checking he was slick, relaxed and ready to play. Luke bit his lip and held back a moan as Justin crooked his fingers and found his prostate.
He could do this. Practicing a little bit of restraint wouldn't kill him.
The rustle of the packet when Justin slipped on a condom was his only warning. Justin slid into him in one smooth movement. Luke gasped. For a perfect moment, Justin stilled inside him, stretching him and filling him completely. He began rocking his hips, building up the movement in tiny increments. Only when Luke whimpered his frustration did Justin begin to thrust into him in earnest.
In what felt like moments, lethal frustration was a growing possibility. Each stroke pressed against Luke's prostate in a rhythm calculated to throw him over the edge at any moment.
He tried to remember he didn't want to fall into pleasure-why he didn't want to jump over the ledge with his arms spread wide in enthusiastic abandon. All he could think about was just how glorious it would feel when he came with Justin still buried balls deep inside him.
But still, in the back of his mind the mantra continued. Luke was not going to come first.
Desperately trying to concentrate on anything other than Justin's erection pounding into him, Luke scrambled for any other details and senses to focus on.
The cotton sheet underneath him was pale blue. At this angle, with his nose barely an inch from the surface, Luke saw it was actually two shades of thread blended together. He couldn't bring himself to care. His prostate sang inside him, coaxing him to join in with it in harmony, groaning his pleasure at every inch of delicious friction.
The scent of their arousal filled the room, mingling with Justin's aftershave. Justin always smelt fantastic. Another perfect thing to add to all the other perfect things Luke had noticed over the months they'd been hooking up for sex. He always smelt like old sandalwood and well worn leather. Luke loved pressing close against Justin's body and taking deep breaths of his scent when they danced together. He loved sliding his fingers up into Justin's hair and pulling him close, to wrap Justin's scent around him.