"Jesus fucking Christ ─"

Jason was finding it increasingly hard to keep from ripping your lingerie off as your teeth sank into the soft skin of his neck. His head lolled back against the headboard of his bed, his fingers digging into the warm flesh of your hips.

He knew it wasn't right and you knew it wasn't right, but neither of you cared. Your boyfriend was a dick, he'd admitted it to you in so many words, and God knew he didn't deserve someone like you. Jason wasn't saying he was much better, but he was saying that he could please you in ways less... romantic.

You'd been drunk the first night ─ Hennesy pouring, a particularly low-cut top, and a conversation about your asshole boyfriend. The second night had been after an argument between you and your (still) asshole boyfriend. After that, it had grown naturally.

You'd been friends, though ─ when you'd started this whole thing, he meant. Now... he tried to deny it, but he might have had a little crush.

He could ignore his feelings right now, though. The feeling of you in nothing but a matching lace set with your lips all over his neck would suffice. "God, that dick's got no clue what he's missing out on."