Chapter 7 #2
Sticking out his tongue, he brushes it across the side of the barrel, licking up his own precum.
He may be my prisoner, but his gaze holds me hostage in this moment.
My cock throbs, my chest heaves. The steam from the shower has thinned, but the glass fogs worse than before from our hot, panting breaths.
Again, I lower the gun, this time skimming the barrel up the underside of his shaft.
I can’t help but look, bending my head down for the best view.
He leans forward too, his forehead coming to rest against mine as we both watch the weapon glide up and down his length, black steel moving over veins.
My own dick should not be getting harder at the sight, but I swear it’s about to burst through my zipper.
He rolls his hips, rubbing his cock against the gun. Little noises slip from his lips and fill my ears, my brain, in a way I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of.
I’m not so sure I want to.
Another drop of precum leaks from his slit.
“Fuck, Reese,” he groans as he rolls his forehead against mine. “If I knew you needed a gun between us in order to touch me, I would’ve suggested it sooner.”
I bring it up once more, brushing it against his lips. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
Any last traces of fear he may have been feeling have vanished, and in its place is the smirk I’ve grown very used to.
“Make me.”
He says it like he’s been waiting weeks for the perfect timing.
But I’m not going to give him what he wants.
Shoving my gun back into its holster at my side, I grab him and roughly spin him around, forcing him hard against the wall, my fingers digging harshly into his upper left arm while my other hand presses the side of his face into the concrete.
“Ow! Fuck!”
He squirms and fights, which only makes my dick harder as I thrust against his bare ass.
“Is this not what you wanted?” I ask with my lips at his ear.
“Fuck you! That hurts.”
“You were enjoying some gun play just a second ago. Don’t pretend like a little pain doesn’t turn you on too.”
He slumps against the wall and pouts. “You were supposed to touch me.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that. “What were you expecting, huh? For me to shove my gun in your mouth to make you shut up? Or my cock?”
“Yes,” he answers breathlessly as he rubs his ass against my jeans. “Either. Both. At the same time. I don’t care.”
“See, here’s the problem, Cason.”
He doesn’t flinch at the use of his name as I let go of his arm to flick the button of my jeans open, keeping him held against the wall with my body and my other hand on his head. He squirms harder when the sound of my zipper cuts through the hot air.
“I told you I wasn’t gay, but you just kept fucking pushing.”
As I take my cock in my hand, pulling it free of my boxers and smearing precum across the globe of his ass, I finally come to a realization after weeks of watching him a little too closely.
I don’t think I can say I’m not gay anymore.
I’m definitely loving this.
Maybe I’m bi.
Or maybe I’m just briefly curious, and this will be a one time thing.
He writhes, his ass incapable of staying still. I’d think he was trying to get away if he wasn’t too busy rubbing his wet, naked body all over me. He tries reaching behind him, but I grab his wrist and return his hand back to the wall, ordering him to keep it there.
“Please, Reese,” he whines, trying to turn his head to look down between us, but I won’t let it budge. “Fuck. Let me touch it. I’ll suck you so good.”
Fucking hell.
Something tells me he would.
And I’m so fucking tempted to find out.
But…
“You don’t get what you want because you’re a fucking menace,” I tell him as my lips brush the shell of his ear. “I’m going to fucking use you instead.”
He moans. “That works too.”
I growl because fuck him for making it harder to turn this into a punishment, a way for me to pretend this doesn’t completely rewrite part of my identity.
“And you don’t get to come.”
That does it.
His face falls, and I swear the fear returns to his eyes. He attempts to shake his head between my hand and the wall and wails, “No, no, no. Please, Reese.”
“What’s the matter, Cason?” I taunt as I slip my cock between his cheeks and thrust into the crease of his ass. “Did I finally find something that truly terrifies you? Denying you?”
“Please. Please let me come.”
“I do love the sound of your begging. But no.”
He whines. Sobs. Starts fighting me again with more fire than before.
I let go of my cock briefly to slap him hard on the outer thigh, the harsh sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. He whimpers and falls still.
“Squeeze your fucking legs together. If you part them or if you come, you’re not getting back out of that room again.”
“Fuck you.”
“Now.”
This time, I smack him on the ass hard enough it turns red. He grunts but finally does what I say, glaring ahead of him the whole time since I won’t let him look back at me. He’s pissed for real, and it’s satisfying finally being the one to get under his skin for once.
Grabbing the base of my cock, I slide it down his crease before thrusting it between his legs. The head of my dick hits his balls, and he lets out a muffled cry.
My grip on the side of his head turns a little harsher as I pick up a rhythm rutting between his wet thighs. He starts making all those little noises again, and they drive me even more wild. I grunt and thrust as our panting breaths mingle in the small shower space.
“Come on, Reese,” he whimpers breathlessly. “Put it in my ass. You know you want to.”
“I fucking told you this isn’t about you. I’m right where I want to be.”
I’m not. I’d so much rather be in his ass or his mouth—I almost hate how easily I can admit that to myself—but knowing Cason, he’d take it as a reward. And that’s the last thing he fucking deserves right now.
“Then at least let me come,” he whines as he moves one hand off the wall to reach down…
I grab him by the wrist before he can reach his cock and slam it back against the wall, drawing another cry from his lips.
I finally take my hand off his face so I can grab both his wrists and raise his hands above his head.
With one hand, I hold them there, lowering my other hand to grab the base of his cock, squeezing hard.
I was not planning on touching his dick. I wasn’t planning on touching him like this at all. But if I know one thing from experience, it’s that things rarely go according to plan.
No amount of planning could have prepared me for Cason fucking Bellrose.
And fuck if I’ll let him come without permission.
Knowing him, he could get off just by grinding his dick against the wall. Maybe even untouched. Fuck, I shouldn’t like the thought of that as much as I do.
“Oh fuck.” His eyes practically roll into the back of his head. “Yeah. Not gay, huh?”
“Keep talking all you want. I’m still not going to let you come.”
His eyes snap to mine now that he can turn his head a little, and he glares at me with fire. “First chance I get, I’m stabbing you.”
“As if I’m going to let you near any sharp objects.”
I keep a tight hold of his cock and his wrists as I continue fucking between his thighs. Pleasure tingles at the base of my spine, but I plan on drawing this out as long as I can just to torment him.
“Fuck, you feel good,” I say between heavy pants.
“My ass would feel better,” he pouts.
It might just be his legs I’m fucking, but his skin is soft.
The way he shifts from fighting to submission and back again makes this even more satisfying.
Every now and then, he jerks and thrashes, rubbing his ass back on me.
Through it all, he keeps his thighs clamped together, proof of how much he hates being alone.
How much he doesn’t want to stay in that room.
It’s that thought that has me showing him a little mercy.
“I think you’re just a desperate fucking whore,” I growl in his ear as I move my fist up his length.