Written for Twilight Kink Fest.

Prompt: "Slashy edging. Lots of "close, close, almost there, oh god, not quite," like, desperate to get fucked and near tears because of said desperation. Please, no BDSM or D/s stuff. Too much of that going around. Just some good ol' fun between 2 guys in an established relationship. Bonus points if guy doing the teasing gets off first and comes in other guys mouth/on lips before a nice hot make out session. Extra bonus points if guy being teased then gets to rough/fuck other guy. No real preference for…"

Summary: Jasper and Edward have been together for years. To keep things interesting they like to spice up their love life. How far can Edward take things before Jasper falls over the edge?

I truly hope I met the gist of the prompt in some small way, for whoever wrote it.

Much love to edwardsisobel for her as always intuitive beta work, and mrsbeas, D . Kinney, & Kazbar65 for their pre-reading insight.

My muse for Jasper can be found here: cocoalvinoz dot tumblr dot com/post/12824826759/

Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot.This story is rated M. It has adult themes, including M/M slash. If you don't like boys together... Don't read!

Pushed to the Edge


Black gator skin foot; black leather shaft with detail inlay; square toe with a one three-quarter-inch heel. Size eleven. They cost me a sizable chunk from my bank account but they are worth every single penny.

The boots are sitting at the foot of our bed and will be the crowning touch in Jasper's preparations for tonight. It was the best fucking decision I ever made the day I decided to buy him those. If we hadn't planned this 'date' months ago, I'd have him walk around in them, and only them, for the rest of the night—totally buck-naked! My cock jumps at the thought.

I've been watching him get ready. He looks good standing there in his tight black jeans, which mold to his hips and thighs. I can see his bare feet flexing as he leans forward to get a better look in the mirror. He's so involved in what he's doing that he doesn't even realize I'm here. I love to watch him 'pretty up' for me. His hand is steady as he applies a thin line of liner to his eyes. It makes them pop, the hazel green so much more vivid against the smudged black line. He hasn't combed his thick dark hair since he washed it and it has dried a fuckable mess, but experience tells me it won't look that way in a few minutes, not once he has styled it 'just right'. Not that I would care. He looks fucked—freshly fucked—and I'm not adverse to people thinking that I'm the one that has done that to him; they wouldn't be far wrong anyway.

I saunter into the bathroom when he has finished, my heavy steps on the tile alerting him I'm there. He doesn't turn, just watches me through the mirror, his eyes scanning my body. He purses his lips, raising one cheek, just a bit, granting me the smirk that makes me weak at the knees. He knows what that smirk does to his face; it pulls in the dimple beside it, the one that I just want to lick.

My arms thread around his waist as I move in to stand behind him; my hands travel slowly over his hips and down to his cock as my mouth meets the soft skin of his neck. Our eyes are locked in the reflection, and he watches as I suck his neck hard, marking my territory, because that's what he is—he's mine!

My hands move over his erection, and I relish the expression that passes over his face. His eyes close and he breathes deeply as I massage him through the barrier that covers him. This will not do. My fingers trail teasingly upward as I make my way to his belt, unclasping it quickly. He doesn't complain that I am screwing up his outfit, because he knows this will be so torturingly worth the trouble of 'fixing' himself up again.

The open belt is quickly followed by open jeans that I push slightly lower on his hips. I'm happy to find him bare underneath, it will make everything so much better, both now and as the night goes on. His jeans are so tight, restricting really. They are going to be my best friend tonight, my accompanist so to speak. He'll want to tear them off by the end, which will be a shame; they really do look fucking incredible—but nowhere as incredible as what they cover.

My hand grasps his hardening erection and eases it out of its confinement. I watch my movements, and moan into his neck as he springs free; his long hard uncut cock points straight at me in the mirror, teasing me to pleasure it. And I will; that is my absolute intention. His ass pushes back against me, grinding into my own hardness and I can't help my natural reaction to rut forward. Fuck!

I use his foreskin and stroke long languid movements up and down his shaft, watching as the skin covers then reveals the head of his cock, over and over. His hips buck as he tries to fuck my hand, but we've done this before and I know his moves.

"Not now, love. You know it won't be now," I murmur into his ear.

His eyes open and he looks at me, his expression pleading. I just shake my head, stroke a few more times, and then ease him back into his pants, but not before swiping my thumb across the engorged crown of his cock, picking up the pre-cum as I go.

"This is mine," I say, showing him my glistening digit in the mirror. "I expect lots more tastes as the night goes on, Jas. Is that something you can give me?"

"I could give you a whole lot more now," he offers.

"Patience." I smile. "You know how worth it this will be." And he does know—very well.

I step back, dragging my free hand over his shoulder, at the same time as I lick my thumb into my mouth. Fuck, yes!

His gaze is intense as he watches me, pulling in a deep calming breath in an attempt to still his racing heart. He tucks in his black tee, and I watch intrigued as he adjusts his cock. I note the way his eyes close and his breathing hitches again at the pressure his tight jeans puts on his erection, still hard and ready for me…

But not yet. Not yet.

When he begins to do up his belt I stop him. "No, don't."

He looks at me and asks, "Why?"

"Cause you're gonna take it off and leave it there." I point to the bed.


The music pounds through my body, the bass beat so strong that the whole ground reverberates with it. The band is as good as I anticipated; the show they are putting on is electric. It doesn't hurt that the lead singer is sex on legs. We were there in the mosh pit when he jumped into the crowd and literally walked above it—above us.

Now we've moved away, back into the darkness at the rear of the stadium. No one gives a shit what 'we're' doing. We are just insignificant strangers to them.

If only they knew.

I stand behind him, my hard-on still pushing hard against his ass. I can feel the defined muscles of his back as he grinds against me. Even through his tee and flannel shirt they undulate, causing my nipples to pebble with every brush across them.

The fingers of one hand are combed into his brunette locks, gripping them firmly as I pull his head back against my shoulder, baring his skin and allowing me room for my teeth and my tongue and my lips to caress his neck.

My other hand, hidden by the blessing that is his long, red-checked shirt, is pushed into his jeans. I haven't undone them—this time—so the space is tight, but it is just enough for my hand to work its magic as my palm pushes against his erection in the restricted space. He is so hard and so wanting. As I pull away a bit, my hand leaves his cock, but not before I again swipe over the tip, bringing my thumb immediately to graze my tongue and then to his.

"Fuck," I say as he draws it into his mouth. Fuck!


How we managed to find this quiet corner I will never know, but we did. No one has disturbed us since we got here and I doubt anyone will. The chance that we might get caught though just adds to the experience.

He's against the wall.

Fuck, he's sexy.

I can't resist leaning forward and pushing my nose into his groin. He smells so good—musky and turned on. Just like sex. The urge to use my teeth is too strong and I bite his erection through his jeans.

"Ed…" I can hear the tension in his voice. "Baby…"

I undo his fly exposing him. Then taking his hands I move up his body, kissing and nipping as I go, until I have his arms restrained up above his head at the wrists with one hand, and hold his cock gripped hard in my other.

As I stroke him I whisper teasingly in his ear.

"You're so turned on, Jas…"

"I know how much you want to come…"

"I know how much you want me to fuck you…"

"You want to fuck me too, don't you, love…"

At my words his breathing accelerates and his hips move against the restraint of my hand, searching for release. But he doesn't try too hard; he knows our game. He doesn't want to come yet either—at least his head doesn't want to come yet, the one in his skull, not the one in his pants, because it is screaming a very different story. Begging me with every thrust to put 'it' out of its misery.

My lips meet his and I kiss him wildly, pushing him just that little bit further…


The concert is over.

As we walk back to the hotel I keep an eye out for a secluded place to stop.

It would be far too easy to go to our room straight away, far too easy to complete our game well before we are ready.

As we round a corner, a small neighborhood park comes into view. I turn my head and survey our surroundings. We are alone.

I take his hand and pull him to cross the road. The park isn't lit; two random lampposts on the sidewalk shine a dull glow into the park, illuminating the playground but not much else. It is perfect.

"Come," I say.

"I didn't think it was time for that," he jokes, but I can hear the tension in his voice.

"Follow me, smart ass."

He does, happy for me to lead him wherever. In the dark distance I see a table and make my way toward that. When we are close enough I pull him into my arms, gripping my hands in his hair and fusing my lips to his.

I can never get enough of his kisses. They drug me, like I'm being pulled into some alternate reality, but I crave them, every day.

I walk him backward to the edge of a large square table that has bench seats all around it and nudge him to sit down on its top. He does.

I stand there between his spread thighs and move in as close as I can over the awkward barrier of the seats. He wraps his legs around me, pulling me in tight and holding me there. I can feel the heels of his shiny black boots pushing into me. Our groins are so close, but the barrier of far too much clothing makes the distance way too far.

We both harden from the semis we've been sporting all night, almost immediately. It has been torture for me as much as for him. I may be the one bringing him to the edge as often as I can, but each and every time I am as hard as a rock and right there with him.

He reaches out and grips my shirt and he pulls me down to him. Supporting my weight with my hands I allow my lips to meet his. He still holds my shirt tight; it's as if he's binding me to him. When I leave his mouth to kiss along his jaw and lavish at his throat he moans in my ear. "Love you so much… Want you so bad… Make me come, Ed. Please… Oh god, please make me come."

His begging pleas are nearly enough for me to concede defeat. Maybe it is time?

My tongue pushes under the neck of his tee, searching out every available bit of flesh, and when it isn't enough any more I make my way slowly down his chest, stopping at his tight nipples to suck at them through the fabric that confines them. I nudge his flannel shirt out of the way with my face, loving the sensation of the soft fabric against my skin. The feel of the tee's white print is foreign on my tongue but still I lick and nibble at him, making the black fabric wet against his chest. I take one last moment to blow on the area and feel him shiver; my task has succeeded.

Leaning only on one arm now but still looking into his eyes, I reach down and pull the bottom of his tee out of the way and then pop the button of his jeans. My fingers immediately meet the soft skin of his cock, straining under the confinement of its prison. He takes an audible breath and I smile, knowing how much he wants me—how much he wants anything I'm prepared to give him.

I meet his lips once more. "I love you," I breathe out as I move away.

I haven't undone any more of his fly but it's enough at the moment. Kneeling on the seat in front of me, I lean down and lick my tongue softly across the tip of his glans. I love his taste. Many would say I'm full of shit, but I do. It's my aphrodisiac.

"More…" I hear muttered above me.

I look up at him. I can just make out his expression in the dim light.

It's too much for him to keep his eyes open. His long lashes shadow his cheek. Maybe it's just the liner, or the darkness, or maybe I just know him so well, but I can see them… there… in all their beauty. They are just one of the million things I love about him.

I pull open the remaining buttons and push open his fly. His erection springs free. My nose is almost immediately pushed into his groin as I breathe in the scent of him. It, coupled with the small taste I just had, has my own dick hard as steel again too.

"Lift," I say as I grasp the band of his jeans and pull them lower over his hips. He does, and soon he is exposed to me.

This is the first time I've had my mouth on his bare cock tonight. All of those small teasing tastes of his essence have brought me to this. I resist swallowing him straight away, as much as I crave to, and spend time lapping at his balls and length with my tongue. He loves when I place small sucking kisses along the sensitive underside of his cock and I take my time doing what must seem like tiny love bites up and down his length. His body is writhing on the table; his hands are clasped into my hair. It almost hurts with how firmly he is holding me but I continue with what I'm doing, relishing what he must be feeling to grasp me so tightly.

One hand massages his sack and the other grips his substantial length, holding it in place for my mouth. His foreskin has pulled back because of his erection, but I push it up as far as I can so that I can lap at his glans and skin, trying to push my tongue under it as far as possible.

"Yes. More."

He loves me doing this to him. He's so sensitive… so responsive.

I continue licking at his head, dipping into the slit and sucking up all that he gives me. He is weeping now, his arousal so intense, but he has amazing stamina and I know just how to read him. He won't come yet. I won't allow it.

I take him fully into my mouth, bobbing up and down his length for a while, then push him deep into my throat. When I pause, his grip on my hair tightens and I know I'm getting it right. Hollowing my cheeks I pull back and release him. That's enough for now.

I lick my way down his sensitive underside and suck on the skin of his balls. It's tight but he's not quite there, I still have some room left to play. My hand holds his dick away, exposing his sack for my pleasure—and it is my pleasure; I get just as much out of this as he does.

I pull one nut into my mouth, sucking gently, then move to the other, giving it the same attention. His moans are impassioned. My hand is gently stroking him; keeping him 'just' on the edge.

"Gotta come. Gotta come… Please…" he chants above me.

As I suck on his balls I feel the telltale tightening of his impending release. Even with my fingers tightly restricting around his base he is closer than I want. I need to stop now.

I lift my head away.


His exclamation is loud in the quiet of night. I quickly cover his mouth with mine as I attempt to calm him down.


A light comes on in a window above.


"Here?" he queries when I push him against the wall in the darkened stairwell.

"Hmm hmm."

Always looking for every opportunity, I can't resist when we find not one but two blown light bulbs, making this whole area dark and perfect for this…

I attack his mouth. I've been far too controlled up until now and I can barely take it anymore myself. Pushing my tongue brusquely into his mouth I am met with a similar passion from him. We are desperate and needy and just where I wanted us to be… Where we wanted us to be.

This is why we play this game. The rewards far outweigh the pain.

Lips, tongues, teeth… Hands, fingers…



Too much… but not enough.

Never enough.


"No. Not now. Please… please, Ed."

I take his hand and lead him up the stairs.


We fall through the door.


I end up on my ass and he ends up on top of me, straddled over my thighs.

He realizes the position we are in and I see the moment his frame of mind changes.

He's not mine anymore; I am his.

"Mine." His voice is forceful, nearly a growl.

"Yours." He takes my hands, securing them by the wrists to the floor above my head.

"Mine," he repeats before stealing a kiss from my wanting lips.

"Yours… always."

He begins to kiss across my chest and down over my stomach. I can hear the faint repeat of 'always' as he moves farther down my torso.

He sits up for a moment and removes his red-checked shirt. Instead of throwing it on the floor, he balls it up and for a brief moment, tenderly lifts my head and pillows it underneath me.

But that tender moment is gone in an instant.

He straightens up and I watch with baited breath as he lifts his tee off his body. My eyes are immediately drawn to his tight nipples and then to the ink that marks his flawless skin; the little stories they tell, that so many guess to, but so few know the meaning of.

Only me…

He is perfect.

"Jas," I cry as his hands now unclasp my jeans, teasing the fly down slowly. Shuffling backward, he settles over my shins then pushes my shirt out of the way. Bending forward his lips meet the tender skin of my abdomen and he tongues around my navel as his hands push my jeans and briefs down. I lift my hips allowing him to expose me.

"Mine," he growls.

He's over my cock now, and I'm so hard and so needing of whatever he's prepared to give me.

Our game doesn't always turn like this, but I don't mind when it does. We are both beyond turned on and eager for… anything!

His tongue swipes across the very tip of my crown, dipping into the slit and taking in my arousal. He looks to me and licks his lips. His gaze is intense and tells me without words that he owns me body and soul… and he does.

There's no pretense here now. We're both too far-gone. He takes me in fully, pausing only when he can go no more. As he pulls back he grazes my length lightly with his teeth and then sucks hard on the head.


His eyes are focused on mine as he bobs up and down.

My hand reaches out and grips his throat possessively. I can feel him swallowing around my cock… Holy shit!

"Gonna come, gonna come," I chant, thinking he will pull away and leave me wanting just as I have done to him all night.

He does, but only for a second.


And he takes me deep into his throat again. It is too much and when he swallows, constricting his muscles around me, I can take no more.


As soon as I begin to orgasm he lifts his lips to my glans, sucking me there and pulling every bit of my orgasm from me. He isn't swallowing and I can see my spunk leaking out of his mouth and dribbling over his lips. It is so fucking hot.

When I've finished ejaculating he sits up a bit, his eyes close and he licks his lips. I watch him swallow as if he is taking his last meal—savoring every drop. But he doesn't have it all; there is still plenty of me spread over his lips. His cheeky lopsided smirk is proud and playful and then he bends forward to share…


I can still taste my essence in my mouth as I stand, bent over the back of the sofa in the sitting room of the suite.

Jasper is behind me, curved over my body as he kisses along my shoulder blades.



His thumb is rubbing teasing circles around my hole—it feels so fucking good. My body instinctively reacts and I push back against him. I need him desperately. I've already come but I'm already hard again… and I know how hard he is. I can feel him pressed into my hip.

I'm feeling a bit guilty that he is still waiting, but only a bit.

He's about to get his turn.


I feel him drop to his knees and then his warm tongue is pushing against me… over me… into me… His mouth is sensational, no matter what he's doing with it.

I can feel myself fluttering against the pressure. I just want him in me… now!

"Fuck me, love. Need your cock… Need it now!"



"Well that I can do." He stands behind me and I hear the sound of lube being squeezed from the tube, then the slick sound of it being applied. He's not touching me, so he must be stroking his dick—fuck! My own rod pulses at the thought.

"You've teased me tonight, you know. Maybe it would be too easy," I feel his crown push against me, "if I just fucked you now." He leans forward and grasping my hair, pulls my head to the side and kisses my mouth. "I want to… so bad… but I think I can wait… a bit."

I reach up and hold his head near mine and continue to kiss him. We are desperate passion; heavy need; hot desire. Brought to the edge far too many times tonight to wait any longer.

"No!" I demand. "Now!" I push back against him and it is enough. He can't stand it any longer either.

He grasps himself and lines up and with one slow but steady push he is all the way inside me.

He growls.

I stand up a bit and brace myself. I know what happens now.

He still has my hair in his grasp with one hand as he pulls out until just the tip is left inside me and then pushes in again; his other is holding my hip. I can feel every finger.

Each pull and push gets more aggressive until he is slamming into me.

"I thought you'd be the one fucking me tonight," he moans out, "but this is worth every… tease… you… gave… me…"

Every stroke is raw power. I love it when he fucks me like this… and that's just what it is: it's fucking—raw dominant power.

I. Am. His.

"You. Are. Mine."

He doesn't even touch me, yet I feel my orgasm well in my belly like a freight train.

And we come together.

No more games.

Thanks for reading.