Chapter 13 Dom
Dom
His cock was so deliciously hard. Though proud, it edged against my face, his skin catching on my cheek as I shuffled those extra few inches down to lie between his thighs. Harry shuddered, his hips rolling gently as he settled there on top of me.
I loved that he was so horny and furious at the same time. I put two fingers in my mouth and wetted them, readying them for him.
As I ran my hands along his thighs, I moaned at how coarse his hair was. I fed my fingers toward his cock, and he groaned as I cupped his balls, massaging, loving the tiny gasps he made.
“Dom!” he snapped, though his voice was distant when I had his thick thighs pressed against my cheeks.
The damp heat of his sweat surrounded me, his musky scent filling my senses.
Harry’s cock twitched as he longed for me. I was all he needed in that moment, his whimpers calling me to hold him, and angle his cock down toward my lips and take him again.
The groan that poured from my throat as he slid down my tongue was inhuman.
I’d been waiting so long to feel it again and hear him make that sound.
My lips still burned from his thrusts into my face, but now I had his weight crushing me.
All it took was one push and he was so deep in my mouth that his balls hit my chin.
I jerked under him, suffocating, so turned on I almost came.
His precum coated my tongue, and I pushed his hips. I needed him to move. His thighs trembled around me, but all I heard was my breathing. My focus was on him. I wanted him to cry my name so loudly that he was hoarse by the time he came.
I angled my head forwards. It was uncomfortable, but my throat made a slick channel, my tongue guiding his cock downwards. Harry quivered, the door shaking, his hands still pressed against it for support.
I encouraged his hips upwards. I wanted all of his ass as well. He followed my touch, and he lifted himself from my chest, giving me room to play.
He could hate me as much as he wanted after I’d satisfied him.
It was hard to choose between staying buried between his thighs or moving so I could properly hear his desperate sounds of pleasure. But as soon as he thrust his hips, driving his cock further down my throat, there was no competition.
With the curve of his stomach pressed against my head and my mouth stuffed with his cock, he was going to crush me. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes as I tried to breathe. All I could see was the shadow of his skin, and his rough hair rubbed against my cheeks as he thrust into me again.
I couldn’t remember ever seeing him so angry, but I deserved every fucking second of pain, even though it wasn’t a punishment.
Pressing my middle finger against his asshole again, he bucked, his cock pulsing in my mouth. I tried to bob my head, suck him, do anything, but he had me pinned. His cock was so thick that I couldn’t even move my tongue. It was incredible.
Harry was awkward at first, and he needed time to find a rhythm as I pressed deeper in his ass. I widened him up as he squeezed around me.
I tested a second finger, and he took it easily.
God, it was so warm inside him, like he’d been keeping himself just for me. I pushed as far as I could go until my knuckles bumped his skin. The hair there was just as coarse as his thighs.
I would have gone for three fingers, but it would have been a raw fuck, and the only place that should be raw when he was done was my throat.
So many men I slept with shaved, and I didn’t care either way, but it felt so right that his hair tickled my face as he pushed into my mouth, covering me in his scent.
Harry picked up speed until I just held my fingers straight, wrenching my jaw open as wide as I could go, while he took his anger out on me.
He fucked me with all his rage, forcing me down, grinding into my face as the back of my head chafed against the wooden floor.
I was sweating; the friction harsher with each movement. My cock was begging for release, but my mouth was so full that I didn’t care. My jaw ached, my lips stretched full, and I loved it. I’d never forget the taste of him again.
He moved his hips frantically, his distant cries begging me for more. All I wanted was his pleasure. I needed it to fill the agony inside my heart that had been eating away at me since the first night I texted him.
Harry’s musty heat was intoxicating. He thrust forwards, rather than down. I curved my fingers, finding his sweet spot, and he yelled. I groaned along with him as his cock swelled in my mouth. I imagined him pressed to the door as if he were on the edge of a cliff, hanging on for dear life.
But he stopped, his ass squeezing me so tightly I thought I was going to melt.
I couldn’t ask him if he was okay, but I pinched his cheek, finding that hard spot of inner muscle that fed directly to his prostate. As I pushed it, I gently stroked my fingers inside him, feeling him come undone.
I nearly came as he lowered himself, pushing so deep into my throat that I nearly shouted, and he circled his hips. The way he used me was fucking heaven.
Long, languid strokes as he drew out, bringing his cock to the tip of my tongue before he thrust back into me with a low groan. The door rattled as he crushed my nose into his crotch and pressed so firmly that I choked on nothing but him.
I took the cue and pressed against his prostate. He shouted as his hips shuddered again.
He was almost there.
The tension was killing me. I needed to feel his cum flowing inside me.
Each slow move had my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I felt every ridge and vein on my tongue. Slower and slower until he couldn’t take any more.
He thrust hard as he came; the pain of my lips stretching was so worth it to feel his ass clench around me and his whole body shook.
I couldn’t even swallow. I just moaned at the thick slide of his cum sliding down the edges of my throat, his taste filling my mouth.
I stiffened my fingers, pushing him onto me, milking all of his pleasure. Even when he stopped coming, his body falling downwards, his pants echoing around me, I couldn’t let him go.
His taste was addictive, coating my tongue and throat. His cock softened in my mouth, and I finally had room to lick him, burying my nose in his hair, nuzzling at his groin.
Harry whimpered as he leaned back. Tremors travelled through us both as I pulled my fingers from his ass. I still stroked his hole, hoping for more.
I would get him on my cock soon enough.
But he moved, drawing his cock from my mouth, climbing down my body until his hips were over mine. The temptation to thrust upwards and show him how hard I was was so strong that I was ready to go. Until his hands pressed into my shoulders, and his gaze clashed with mine.
Wild, crazy, pink and sweating with his pupils blown. I could have any part of his body; licked him clean and still been hungry for more.
We both panted, heat pulsing off us. He’d been drooling as he fucked me, and a trail ran from his lip, just like his cum did with mine. The agony in his expression cut deep, but I had no right to complain.
There was another tense moment as we watched each other, but it ended as he pursed his lips, breaking his mask to give me a look of disgust that pierced right down to my soul.
My throat burned, and I could barely breathe.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I rasped, my throat aching. “Please, not again.” A heavy sigh followed my words as I let my head fall back to the floor, knocking my neck back, closing my eyes in regret. I groaned before lifting myself back up, returning to him.
“How am I supposed to look at you properly after what you’ve done?
” he whispered. The horror in his eyes was the same as twelve years ago, where I had to shut down my feelings so I could stay with him.
It was the look that kept me from ever being anything more than his friend, and it was slicing me to pieces.
I opened my mouth to reply, but he’d had enough of me.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice hoarse, exactly how I wanted. “Don’t say another word.”
Harry clenched his jaw, dipping his chin to avoid me as he pushed himself up.
My shoulders stung, but the pain quickly vanished as he rose above me, and my breath caught in the back of my tender throat at how he held himself. He hit me with the Fischer smile, one he rarely used on me because he used to trust me.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he said, pulling up his trousers. His cheeks red, his hair dishevelled, he couldn’t hide the tears that had stained his skin. “When I come back, you will have moved away from the door so I can leave. Is that clear?”
Looking at him with wide eyes, my heart beat in my throat, and all I could do was nod.
I watched him go, my lips sizzling, trying to catch my breath. In all my years of fucking of course I’d dommed and subbed, but having Harry Fischer fuck my face and then order me around was so hot that I gripped my cock as soon as he ran into the bathroom.
I wanted to come so fucking badly, and I wanted him to see it. I could have done it. Just sat up against the door, spread my knees, and not let him go until he watched me shoot over my thighs.
But if I wanted any chance with him, any minuscule sliver of hope, I had to do whatever the fuck he told me to.
It was the longest five minutes of my life. I got up, washed my hands, drank some water, and tried to stay calm as every anxious second crawled by. It took all I had not to throw open the door and fuck him in the bathroom.
I took a look at myself in the hallway mirror and sighed, shaking my head.
My lips were bright and plump, the skin around my mouth was red and raw, and I had to wipe cum from my chin.
I cleaned my face, adjusted my clothes, and paced back and forth in the kitchen, intensely aware of any sound that came from the bathroom, like the running tap and the creak of the handrail.
When the door finally opened, I released the tension I’d been holding.
“Harry,” I said, my voice hoarse as I stepped toward him.
I wanted him to stop, to at least look at me, but he was in full Fischer mode. I was nothing but a task on his long list. And that burned more deeply than his fists or his tears.
“I’m leaving,” was all he said, clearing the room, reaching the exit as quickly as possible. The front door closed with a dull click, and I was left with nothing.
I didn’t even say goodbye. The thought echoed in my head as I sat there in numb silence. All he wanted was to get away from me.
I leaned back, my ass on the top of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling.
Fragments of our argument swirled through my mind, along with Harry’s little moans and shudders, the way he clung to me and needed me.
His body had been so soft and he tasted like home, like I’d finally found that thing that I’d been searching for, even though I’d known it was him all along.
Everything had been leading up to that. It was what I’d been so scared of since I first realised I had Molly’s phone. But why was I acting surprised that he hated me for what I did?
He had every right to. But to actually see his anger and hear how deeply I had hurt him… I was stupid to think we could recover from it.
“Fuck,” I said to the empty room. I didn’t know how to fix it.
I regretted lying to him, but I wouldn’t regret anything else. It had been years in the making, and damn him if he denied his feelings after all of that.