I don’t know where the lube comes from, or when Quinn decided to be prepared enough to have it on standby. But he’s lubing me up, stroking and squeezing as he spreads the slippery liquid over my dick.
Roughly, I flip him over and thrust into him, pushing through the tight ring of his ass. He cries out, and it breaks through the haze of lust.
Fighting to hold myself still, when what I really want to do is pound him relentlessly, I panic slightly. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” While punishment was certainly on my mind, I’d never hurt him, or anyone else, intentionally.
“God dammit you’re big,” Quinn pants, but he’s pushing back against me.
Rocking into him, because I can’t seem to help my body’s reaction to the way he’s pushing me back, I keep apologizing. “I’m really fucking sorry, Q, I−“
“Jesus, Bunny, I’m fine. Just fuck me already.”
I only pause a moment to process the words and make sure I heard him correctly. Then I resume punishing him by pulling out and driving back into him. Again. And again. Until I’m fucking him so hard that the tanned flesh of his ass turns pink as if I had spanked him after all.
I’m so focused on holding on for dear life and slamming into him like an animal that I don’t notice we’re right in front of the standing full-length mirror. Quinn, however, does. He’s watching me intently.
When I meet his eyes, he arches his back into me, reaching to stroke himself as he watches me pound into him. Hypnotized with lust, sweat stinging my eyes as it pours over my face and body, I watch him through heavy lids.
Adjusting my stance, I bend one leg so I am kneeling behind him, rolling my hips as I trust. The new angle makes Quinn moan.
“Fuck, right there.”
A few more thrusts and Quinn’s ass squeezes around the base of my cock as he comes. I can’t hold out any longer, my climax overtaking me as I follow him over the edge, spilling inside him. Quinn has the forethought to grab a nearby t-shirt, catching the mess his cum makes.
We collapse on our sides, sweaty and spent, on the plush rug of my bedroom. My cock is still halfway inside Quinn. Although it’s rapidly softening, I push myself inside again so my body is flush against his. I’m not sure how long we lay there like that, but I’m almost dozing when my phone rings.
It’s not Bennet’s ring tone or Mara’s, so I don’t worry about it at first. Instead, I pull Quinn’s face back to meet mine, kissing him passionately. The phone finally stops ringing. My cock, still buried inside Quinn’s tight ass, stirs again. Quinn’s cock wakes as well, my hand stroking it back to life. The phone rings again, but we ignore it, gearing up for round two. I’m just about brave enough to ask to switch things up.
Finally, on the third ring, I groan loudly and pull out so I can figure out who the hell is blowing me up like this.
“Hello?” I answer curtly.
“Hi, am I speaking to Mr. Bartlett? This is Brenda Evans, Bennet Adley’s secretary.”
“Oh, Brenda. Yes, this is Tony.” Clearing my throat, I change my tone entirely, embarrassed that I was so short when I answered. “What can I do for you?”
“There’s no easy way to say this. Bennet is missing, likely injured, and it looks like he might have been kidnapped by his father.”
Mara
It’s dark by the time I get back to Tony’s house.
Tony is on the phone, pacing. Quinn jumps out of his chair and meets me in the hallway, keeping his voice low.
“Where have you been?” He whispers, not unkindly, but clearly worked up about something.
“I got caught up at home, had to help my cousin and left my phone upstairs. I sent you both a text when I was on my way, though.”
“We’ve both been on the phone for the past hour pretty much.”
“What’s going on?”
“Brenda called. Bennet is missing. Apparently, he went in for a meeting with Adley and left on a jet, possibly unwillingly. The girl, Six, and the other guys called Brenda to see if she knew where he was. She tracked his plane to Raleigh, but we don’t know if Bennet is with him or if he’s okay.”
“Shit,” I mutter, putting down my bags and looking over at Tony. I gesture over to him, silently asking Quinn what’s happening.
“Tony’s trying to get through to Bennet’s PI, some guy named Vince. But he isn’t answering. He tracked his cell phone to Raleigh, right around the warehouse.”
With an aggravated sigh, Tony puts his phone down and comes over to where we’re standing. He bends down to kiss me on the cheek and I wrap my arms around him.
