Page 113 of Ship Happens

With his hands still hooked in the waistband of Owen’s sweatpants, Jacob pulls them further down, then off as he scoots closer to the foot of the bed. Owen keeps his legs spread, face flushing even more as Jacob comes to the realization that Owen didn’t put his underwear back on after his shower earlier.

Wordlessly, Jacob kneels back, putting his hand around Owen’s ankle, lifting it so that he can press a kiss to Owen’s tender skin. It’s a little inflamed, his joints tired, but Owen can’t find the energy to feel self-conscious, not with the way that Jacob is looking at him.

So hungry and wanting.

Slowly, torturously, Jacob continues to press kisses to Owen’s leg, making his way up the back of Owen’s calf. He takes his time, sometimes using his teeth, making sure that every inch of Owen’s skin that he can reach is being touched, appreciated. Every now and then, Jacob will scratch at the inside of Owen’s thighs with his short fingernails, pulling a gasp out of Owen as his back arches involuntarily. He can’t stop his fingers from finding his clit, teasing himself, desperate for some sort of release.

“Ah-ah,” Jacob says, reaching to pull Owen’s hand away.

“Then you need to do something,” Owen argues, growing more and more impatient with each passing second. He hadn’t realized how badly he needs some sort of relief.

“I want to take my time,” Jacob says, pressing one more kiss to the inside of Owen’s leg. Owen bites his lip when Jacob’s hands come down again, his touch barely ghosting against Owen’s cunt. “Appreciate you.”

“This isn’t fair.” Owen pouts through the need, his hips lifting involuntarily. “Only one of us is naked.”

Jacob smirks, climbing off the bed. “We can fix that.”

Owen almost questions why he goes through all of the effort just to take off his shirt and boxers. But then he moves to the end of the bed. With no footboard, it’s easy for Jacob to crawl back onto the mattress. This time, he takes both of Owen’s legs, resting them on his biceps as his hands come to hook around Owen’s thighs, pulling him further down the bed, keeping him spread open.

“Perfect,” he feels Jacob whisper against his clit.

Owen shivers when he feels Jacob’s hot breath. It takes everything in him not to put his hand to the back of Jacob’s head, knot his fingers in Jacob’s hair, get his tongue inside of him.

No, the man has to take his fucking time. Owen’s skin itches with the need for release, inching closer and closer toward an orgasm that he didn’t have to conjure up himself. Jacob’s breath against his clit only drives him wilder, until he’s near tears.

“Jacob,” Owen cries softly. “Please, just—”

Jacob cuts him off, his mouth closing around Owen’s cunt, his beard scratching at all of Owen’s most sensitive nerves.

“Oh, goddamn . . .” Owen moans, clenching his hands in the sheets as he humps into Jacob’s mouth, already so desperate for more. As badly as he wanted to take his time, even Jacob has his limits, it seems; his hold on Owen becomes harder as he pulls Owen closer and closer, slipping his tongue inside as he begins to devour Owen like a man starved, like Owen is the last meal he’ll ever have.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Owen winces, his breath escaping in sharp huffs, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. His orgasm is already fast approaching, the consequences of a year and a half of being responsible for his own release. “Jacob, Jacob . . .” Owen double-taps Jacob’s arm, their signal from years ago.

“Are you okay?” Jacob asks, immediately stopping. “Was that too hard?”

“No,” Owen says with bated breath. “Not at all. I was just about to come.”

“Oh . . .” Jacob almost sounds disappointed. “I sort of thought that was the point?”

Owen smiles, still trying to catch his breath as he motions for Jacob to release him. “Here,” he says, scooting to the side and patting the pillow, ordering Jacob to take his place.

“Are we doing what I think we’re doing?” Jacob asks, goofy smile on his face.

“That okay?”

“More than okay!” he replies, nodding enthusiastically. Lying down, Jacob helps support Owen as he throws his legs over Jacob’s body to face the foot of the bed. He remembers the first time he did this for Jacob, feeling so nervous at just how . . . intimate it was to sit on Jacob’s face. But Jacob had been so eager that Owen wanted to try it for him. It only took them doing it once for it to become a favorite of both of theirs.

Jacob wraps his arms around Owen’s thighs again, keeping him supported as he maneuvers Owen however he wants, pulling Owen down, suffocating himself on Owen’s cunt, his tongue lapping at the nerves. The muscles in Owen’s stomach contract as he nearly falls over, catching himself on Jacob’s thigh. Jacob licks him everywhere, pulling Owen back so that he can lap at his clit, sucking like he’s desperate, his spit mixing with Owen’s precum. Then he cranes his neck, his tongue swiping along Owen’s taint before Jacob goes for his hole.

“Ah, oh . . . fuck . . .” Owen whimpers as he bucks his hips back far enough to ride against Jacob’s long nose, appreciating how it stimulates his clit; and God, that beard is itching against all the right places, tilting Owen right over the edge. “Jacob . . . shit . . .” he can’t stop himself. “I’m coming.”

“Come,” he commands, voice muffled underneath Owen as his fingers being to flick his cunt. His lock on Owen’s thighs tightens, keeping him in place as he continues to bounce on Jacob’s tongue, pushing against Jacob’s strong belly as he finally climaxes, letting out a pitiful, strangled gasp as he comes all over Jacob’s face.

The man’s tongue doesn’t stop for a single second, and Owen is left gasping for air as Jacob continues to eat at him, the stimulation overwhelming.

“Jesus Christ, Jacob.” Owen collapses forward, his face landing next to Jacob’s crotch. Finally free from the chains of his favorite thing in the world, Jacob heaves heavy breaths against Owen’s ass, making him quiver.

“Too much?” he asks.