21. Wilder #2
“Tell me what you need.” I know what I need, but right now it’s only about him, and I’ll give him fucking anything.
“To forget I’m fucking Prescott Lamont,” he chokes out, and the crack in his voice is my undoing, because I get it now. Why he is Reed to his friends and the people he trusts, because this is his alternative, and I silently curse myself for ever calling him Prescott.
My hand, which is still resting loosely around the base of his neck, thumb stroking his pulse point, slides back up to grip his chin.
“Then you know what to do, Reed,” I tell him softly, my stare burning into his, and I see the moment he understands.
His own stare darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes now, as he lets himself sink into the tension now swirling around us.
I can’t take away his pain, not the physical or emotional, he knows that, but I can give him pleasure, and he knows that too.
“Get on your knees,” he commands, his tone a little lighter, and I force a smirk to my face as I press myself against him, ensuring I don’t hurt him.
“Oh, come on, Blue, you’re going to have to ask me nicer than that,” I taunt, leaning in until our lips are only a breath away, teasing the cut on his with the tip of my tongue. “If you want me to get on my knees for you, you’re going to have to beg.”
I feel the heat of his exhale, as my other hand closes around his hip, holding him against me firmly. “Please,” he whispers, licking his lips, his tongue touching mine ever so slightly. “Please get on your knees for me, so I can fuck your mouth and forget about everything else.”
A groan lodges in my throat at his words, as I dip forward and let myself kiss him, releasing the restraint I have been holding onto since the night on the deck.
“I love how good this pretty posh mouth is for me.” Using my grip on him, I pull him off the door and guide him toward the bed, not stopping until it hits the back of his knees.
“Now I’m going to show you how good mine is. ”
My hands pull at the bottom of his shirt and he freezes for a moment, fingers flying to mine to hold me in place.
“Please, just don’t say anything else about it,” he mutters, once again not meeting my stare, and I nod, even though I know I am probably going to regret it.
Only then does he let go and help me pull off his top over his head, a pained grunt leaving him, as he tosses it aside.
I have to roll my neck in an attempt to keep my cool, because the marks on his neck extend all the way down his torso, with a horrific stain of purple forming across his ribs.
My eyes trail over every single mark, once again committing them to memory, before I focus back on him.
I wish I could pretend they don’t affect me, I’m not even sure why they do, but I’d do anything to get rid of the current look in his eyes.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Blue,” I tell him honestly, kissing him again, as my hands drop to his waist to push down his pants. “Now sit on the bed and let me ruin you until you forget.” I need to see him, all of him, the need to have him bare so thick it almost chokes me.
There are no bruises on his legs, which is probably for the best, because I would have lost my mind completely if there were.
I help him out of his sweats, admiring his muscular thighs, before nodding for him to take a seat.
Only then do I let myself drop to my knees before him, spreading him open for me.
His cock is long and smooth, and so much fucking better when it isn’t pushing in and out of my best friend’s mouth.
Arousal burns through me at the sight of it, as one of my hands reaches up and glides along his leg toward his groin.
His breath hitches beneath my touch, and fuck I could spend all night here on my knees, exploring every inch of him and seeing what makes him tick.
“Wilder,” he groans, clearly not a fan of my teasing, or at least not right now anyway. He says it so desperately that my own cock thickens in my jeans.
“Need something, Blue?” My question isn’t even all the way out before he is nodding rapidly.
“Touch me,” he demands, leaning back on one of his hands, supporting the opposite side of him that is bruised, and I curse inwardly once more. “Please,” he adds, as a second thought, and I smirk, my hand still teasing its way up his thigh.
“I am touching you.”
I see him open his mouth to beg some more, but I cut him off by giving him what he needs, gripping his base harshly, making him hiss. “Oh fucking hell, Wild.” His head tips back as I slowly roll my hand up and down his shaft, my eyes fixated on the fucking mess of his neck.
It looks nothing like the marks I left on his skin, and I want to erase them with some of my own.
His muscles flex in his abdomen, his six pack fluttering, and my mouth aches with the need to trail my tongue along every ridge.
Leaning up on my knees, I press my mouth to the base of his throat, making him flinch slightly, before he leans into my kiss.
“Keep your eyes on me for this,” I tell him, trailing my tongue down to his collar bone, licking and sucking his skin as I go. “I like my toys to watch me as I play with them.”
When I pull back he snaps his eyes back to mine, watching me expectantly, and only then do I lower my mouth and flick my tongue across his slit. And fuck, I’m so done for, because the sound of his whimper as I taste his precum for the first time sends me straight to heaven.