Chapter 22. #3
“What about what I deserve?” Reuben mumbles in Spanish again and I have to try not to be amused.
If I had known you were such a child I wouldn’t have learned your language.
Before the credits can roll, Reuben is unravelling his hand from mine, and my fingers tighten around his instinctively.
To stop him. To keep him close. When I blink, I realize what I’ve done, but before I can let him go, he pulls my hand to his lips and places a kiss against my knuckles, with that affection in his eyes again.
The gesture makes the room just a bit too warm.
For a moment, we’re both stuck like that, in our own world. He darts his tongue out against my skin and I shiver. He grazes his teeth against my knuckles, all while watching my reaction with a knowing smirk to his lips, and my hard-on worsens.
Ugh.
“I’ll see you tonight.” His words are a promise that makes me envision sinful things before he’s standing to leave the theatre. “Don’t miss me too much until then, estrellito.”
‘Little star.’
I can’t help but wonder why he calls me that. Maybe tonight, I’ll ask him what it means, and why.
But I don’t get the chance to ask, because that night, I meet Reuben at the hotel.
And there isn’t anything I can do to keep my hands off him.
I’m cornering him in the kitchens before he can even look at me properly—taking his lips with my own, sinking my tongue into his mouth, and sliding his hand into my pants so he can feel how hard I am.
“Reuben, fuck me please?” He loves it when I beg for him.
This time is no exception.
We remove each other’s pants between kisses—between desperate bite marks on each other’s neck and shoulders and chest. He always has a packet of lube on him, the whore.
He rips it apart to dip two fingers in and slide it into my ass as we stumble to the couch in the living room.
But I don’t give him the chance to do anything more, I tug him down by his shirt onto the couch.
My mouth on his cock is new.
I’m not going to pretend I’m a master so I go slowly, licking his tip and taking him into my mouth. Whenever he put his mouth on me, his teeth never touched my skin. I mimic that now as I try to please him and take him as far down as I can.
“Ngh—” The moment we lock eyes he grinds deeper, stroking my throat with a tortured sound. “You look so fucking hot like that.”
I slide him out of my mouth until my lips are closed around his tip, holding his gaze as I take him deeply again. Until tears prick the corners of my eyes.
“Fuck, baby.” He grips my hair, holding me there, where he knows I can’t breathe. “I love making you cry. Cry around my cock for me.”
He guides me slowly, up and down his length to that spot deep inside my mouth, and though my eyes water, the sight of him—lips parted, nose flaring and completely undone beneath me—makes me shiver.
“I’m trying so hard to go easy on you,” he confesses darkly as he holds me in place a second time—stealing my air and watching me suffocate around his cock. He grinds against me again and I gag, but his grip on my hair tightens before I can pull away.
“Don’t run.”
I gag again, eyes stinging now, but still, he doesn’t let go. He’s watching me with an ecstasy in his eyes that makes my dick twitch violently.
Sadistic bastard.
“If you try so hard, I’ll want to break you, baby.” He releases me and I slide off his cock—trying desperately to see through the blurriness and breathe again.
I’m still trying to catch my breath when he hooks his finger beneath my chin to pull my head up. Though my glare is piercing, he slaps his cock against my face with a sharp sound.
“Don’t tempt me with those eyes.”
Ugh. I grab him by his shirt to pull him down onto the couch and he watches me, stunned, as I climb onto him, hooking one leg over the back of the sofa.
I pull the hem of my shirt between my teeth and my nose flares as I sink his cock into my ass, inch by inch.
“Chri—baby—”
I’m slamming the rest of him inside me with force that makes my head snap upwards and he moans sharply.
I’d only realized recently, why he calls me baby so often.
He’s noticed I don’t like when he calls me Christian.
But he hasn’t asked why.
Not yet.
I lean backwards to plant both my hands on his legs and slide off him before slamming back down again—a splintered moan escaping me when it hits right where I want it.
Reuben releases this low, guttural sound, and I know his reasoning is breaking like mine. “You’re so fucking needy,” his voice is sexy in my ears as he grips my thighs tightly. “Show me how much you need it, baby. Take it now before I fuck you.”
Stars, I can’t tell if he’s begging or demanding it.
I slam myself down onto him, over and over.
Again and again. Ripping incoherent sounds from my mouth as I guide him to that spot deep inside me—something I wouldn’t have been able to do at all a few weeks ago.
It’s like every nerve inside me is on fire, and where we’re joined—where he’s stroking me—is the source of it all.
By now, I know all the words and phrases that’ll do him in. So right when it’s too much, when the sensations have overwhelmed me and I know I’ve hit my limit, I release the shirt from my teeth and choose the best ones.
“Reuben, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”
It’s like I’ve let something raw out of its cage. He shoots up to drag me down onto the couch, his fingers gripping my throat so tightly, my ass clenches around him. His other hand pins my leg over the sofa, and he drives his cock into me, so violently, it shakes beneath us.
He fucks me like he’s possessed. Until I’m chanting his name—both pleas and demands.
I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for him—sorry I couldn’t give him a name to use—to call me.
So instead, I use the word he likes.
“Break me, baby,” I squeeze the words from my throat, barely meeting his eyes around the tears.
He spits a curse, and my entire body trembles from each thrust—from being overwhelmed like this.
‘Come—inside me—baby—’ The words are a strangled whisper. His grip on my throat is so intense, it pulls my orgasm through my body like a bolt of lightning.
My lips part in a soundless moan as cum spills over my chest and across my neck.
He tells me something—something important—but I can’t hear him over the pressure of his grip on my throat or the roar of my orgasm in my ears.
My consciousness is fading from the lack of oxygen, but it’s okay.
It’s okay because it’s Reuben.
The last thing I remember is feeling whole. Holding every glorious inch of him as he finds his release.
The last thing I feel is him filling up my insides with warm cum. Stuffing me so completely there’s no room for anything else but him.
And the last thing I hear is a whisper of words I can’t make out, before the darkness rolls in.