“I love you,” Gideon said softly. “But sometimes, I don’t know what the fuck to do with you.”
Jesse desperately wanted to lean forward and kiss him. He wanted to rest his head on Gideon’s shoulder. Jesse just wanted to touch him.
“Anything you want.”
Gideon reached out and touched the puncture marks on Jesse’s neck. He didn’t stroke them. Instead, he placed a fingertip over each hole, and, not looking away, pressed as hard as he could.
Jesse squeezed his eyes shut as Gideon applied pressure to the bruised skin, and his cock jerked. He wasn’t sure which prompted his reaction—the pain or the clear message. But he tilted his head, groaning when Gideon moved his fingers in a slow circle, digging the tips deeper into his flesh.
“You took it this morning like you used to,” Gideon mused. “We haven’t fucked like that in months.”