Chapter Seventeen Colin #2
“No, it’s not,” he says in a scolding, serious tone. “I don’t want people taking advantage of you. You shouldn’t feel as if you have to please others without getting something in return.”
“Declan, seriously,” I say, growing agitated. “You don’t have to beat yourself up about it. I really didn’t—”
And then he interrupts me, stepping farther into the room. “I want to do it now,” he declares.
I’m frozen for a beat, staring at his silhouette and wondering if I’m hearing him correctly.
“What?” I croak.
“If you’ll let me. If you still want me to.”
Oh, my God.
Then, to my utter surprise, he begins to climb onto my bed. “I need to hear you say it,” he whispers.
Is he really offering what I think he’s offering right now? He’s telling me that he wants to put his mouth on me. Why would I ever say no to that? My mind is spinning.
But does he really want to, or is he just saying this out of guilt because I did this for him last year? He did just say he wanted to, so I should take his word for it, right?
He crawls closer, resting a hand on my leg, and my mind instantly goes blank. It’s incredible the way he can silence every thought in my mind with just one touch.
“Colin, your words.”
“Yes,” I blurt out, although I don’t know how I can speak when I can hardly breathe. “I want you to. God, Declan, I’ve always…”
I cut myself off before I admit to something I will regret. He crawls closer as my heart nearly hammers its way out of my chest.
“Have you ever done this before?” I whisper. He looks into my eyes as he shakes his head.
Then, with a gentle shove on my chest, he pushes me until I’m lying down on my bed.
As he crawls over me, I swear I stop breathing. I’ve never felt my cock harden so fast in my life.
“If you want me to stop, just say it,” he whispers.
Declan slides his fingers under the elastic waistband of my joggers, and I shudder from the sensitive sensation. He doesn’t even need to put his mouth on me. He could just do that, and I’d be happy.
“Wait,” I say with a gasp as I move up to my elbows. He jerks his hand away from my body as if he’s burned me. I take a moment to compose myself before I ask, “Could you just…?”
God, I feel like an idiot for asking this.
“Could you…maybe…kiss me first?” I squeeze my eyes closed and pray that I didn’t just make this weird somehow. But I don’t just want his mouth on my dick. I need more than that.
Without responding, he crawls up my body until he’s hovering over me. Then, he smirks at me for a moment before running a hand along my jaw and pulling my mouth upward toward his.
Just before our lips touch, he murmurs, “Whatever you want, Shakespeare.”
I think I’ve died. When his mouth grazes mine, it’s like last year in the gymnasium all over again. Hesitant at first and then ravenous.
At the exact moment his tongue brushes mine, he lowers his body until he’s lying on me, and we both groan at the same time.
I clench his T-shirt in my fists as he kisses me, constantly changing direction and going from nibbling to licking to sucking.
Our mouths dance in perfect harmony, anticipating each other’s every move.
When he grinds himself against me, I let out a mortifying whimper.
We’re getting carried away, and I’m elated about that.
I can feel him losing control, and for a moment, it feels like power.
Then Declan remembers what he was supposed to be doing.
So he lifts away from the kiss and licks his lips before moving downward again.
I’ve never felt so hot or aroused in my life. I keep staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out if I’m dreaming or dead. Because there is no way this is real.
Gathering the top of my briefs, he tugs them down with my joggers, and I feel the cool air of the room breeze against my cock.
This is happening. This is really bloody happening.
His breath releases in a shudder as he stares down at my hard, hooded length. I glance downward to see him and notice the expression of hesitation on his face.
I can feel the moisture from the precum at the tip of my cock, and I’m embarrassed for a moment. How could I help it? The way he was kissing me and grinding on me, he’s lucky I didn’t come already.
But maybe the precum is freaking him out or something, because he’s not moving.
“You really don’t have to,” I start, but my words are quickly cut off as he leans down and runs the flat surface of his tongue from the base of my cock to the head.
Then I feel the tip of his tongue slip under the foreskin, and instead of words, I release a strangled moan as if the air has been punched out of my lungs and my body is clamped tight in a vise grip.
“Dec,” I gasp. He wraps his hand around my cock, easing down the hood as he glances up at my face.
Our eyes connect before he lowers himself over me and engulfs me in the warm, wet heat of his mouth.
Another shameless sound escapes my lips.
I’ve never felt anything like this in my life.
It’s like experiencing everything and nothing all at once.
It’s like flying and falling, like heaven and hell.
I expected his blow job to be awkward and apprehensive, but Declan is devouring me as if he can’t get enough.
He’s moaning wildly, slurping on my shaft, moving his mouth up and down in quick, hungry succession.
His lips are curled under his teeth, and I pray that he won’t use those on me the way he asked me to use mine on him. I’m not one for pain.
Then he fully closes his mouth around me and sucks, and I swear I am levitating off the bed. My groans are like shouts. Breathing is downright impossible, and I don’t care if this is how I die. This is a good way to go.
It feels like heaven, but the struggle of keeping myself from coming too soon is almost torture. I’d be humiliated to come so fast, but with the way his mouth is working me over, I don’t know if I have a choice.
Up until this point, my hands have been clutching the sheets on either side of my body. But as he begins to suck, they fly by instinct to his hair, gripping him at the scalp to hold him in place.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groan. Does he have any idea what he’s doing to me? Does he even know how good this feels? Was I this good to him?
“Declan, wait. I’m gonna come,” I moan. His mouth slows, and the sucking relaxes, which is a relief and a disappointment. It gives me a moment to catch my breath, so I don’t suffocate on this bed.
But I don’t release his hair. Instead, I gently stroke the dark-brown locks. His mouth is moving slowly now, running his lips and his tongue along every inch of my cock. I melt into the mattress, savoring the slow, pleasant sensation.
“Goddamn, that feels good,” I whisper. He moans in response as if he’s replying to me. With his free hand, he softly grips my testicles, massaging them gently as he moves his mouth up and down on my shaft.
My head is hung back, my neck extended long as I groan.
“You are so fucking good at this,” I mumble.
I feel him smile around me. Glancing down, I see his lips—those perfect, full pink lips—wrapped around my cock.
I see myself fucking them. My best friend, the man I have loved for four years, is letting me use his mouth.
I am more and more convinced that I’ve died and gone to heaven.
No one will ever compare to Declan. And maybe it is because he’s my friend. Maybe it is because I trust him more than anyone. But no one will get this much of me, ever.
“Tell me I’m yours,” I groan without thinking. His mouth stills around my cock, and I grow instantly terrified that I’ve just ruined this. That I made it too personal, too intimate. He’s just my friend. He’s just doing this to return a favor.
But then he pops his mouth off from my cock and grins slyly up at me. With my balls still in his hand, he says, “Is that what you want, Shelby? You want me to tell you that you belong to me?”
That feeling from last night returns. A calm settles over me as if I’m crawling into the sound of his voice, making myself at home there. His raspy, warm tone tells me that he’s into this. That he’s just as aroused by the idea of ownership as I am.
“Yes,” I reply with a whimper.
“Do you think you’re mine?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly as he strokes my cock with his free hand.
“Good,” he replies with satisfaction that I can hear. Then his hand squeezes my cock on the upstroke. “Because you are mine. All fucking mine. My little fuck toy. This cock is mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“And these balls are mine.”
“Yes,” I reply. Then he presses my knees open and slides a finger between the cheeks of my arse as he delicately rims my back entrance. Chills erupt all over my skin, and I nearly come on the spot. His touching me there makes me feel both exposed and eager.
“And this hole is mine, isn’t it?”
My body ignites with heat and desire. “Yes,” I scream.
“You want me to tell you you’re allowed to come now?” he adds.
I bite my bottom lip, nodding my head as I give him an affirmative sound. “Mm-hmm.”
“That’s good,” he mumbles before kissing the tip of my dick. “My good boy.”
I’m going to commit every moment of this to my memory forever. I’ll remember every little thing that was said, the way he feels, the way he sounds, the way the room smells. It is forever mine in my memory.
“You’ve been so good,” he mumbles against my cock. “So good and all fucking mine. So be a good boy and come down my throat,” he adds.
I nearly stop breathing again with a loud groan.
He wraps his lips around my cock, sucking once more and making my back arch off the bed.
He doesn’t hold back this time, and he’s not playing anymore.
He’s sending me coursing straight for my own orgasm.
Every inch of my body is tingling with pleasure.
And when I do finally come, I’m practically shouting, sweat dripping, heart pounding, and body shaking. It feels like the first time I’ve ever come, and it won’t stop.
Pleasure radiates in pulsing waves over and over and over until it feels like I’ll never recover. My ears are ringing, but in the distance, I hear him moaning as he continues sucking, swallowing down every drop.
I must pass out because the next time I open my eyes, it’s like I’ve woken up in a different room, at a different time, and I’m a different person. I blink my eyes open to find Declan lying on the pillow next to me. He’s staring up at the ceiling with a lazy smile.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Shakespeare,” he says, resting his hands behind his head.
“Did I pass out?” I ask.
“Possibly,” he replies. “You took a long time to catch your breath.”
My skin is still tingling. “Jesus, Dec. Have you ever done that before?”
“No. I take it I did well?”
I break out into laughter and cover my face in embarrassment. Declan only chuckles at my side, a gleaming smile of pride on his face.
And just like that, we’re us again. It’s casual and comfortable, and I don’t have to worry about being rejected, used, or hurt. Because Declan is my best friend, and he always will be.