Chapter 7 #3
His body melts, his back molding against my front, and he lets out a shuddering breath. “Fuck, Reese.”
“Yeah, definitely a slut for cock.” I continue stroking him until he’s trembling again. “Your ass is just fucking hungry to be filled. That’s all you care about, isn’t it?”
“That’s not true,” he whines. “I care about coming.”
I move my fist faster.
I let him get close.
Then I stop. I let go and grab his balls, pulling at them.
“Fuck!” He squirms once more, struggling against my hand holding both of his above his head. “You’re such a fucking asshole!”
“I told you you weren’t going to get to come.”
He gasps when I nip at the shell of his ear. “I thought you changed your mind.”
I smirk to myself and stroke him again. He groans but lets himself sink into it.
Again, I stop when he’s close.
He sobs. “This is torture. You’re literally torturing me!”
“Consider yourself lucky,” I whisper roughly in his ear. “I promise there are worse ways to torture a man.”
“Doubt it.”
Heat is coiled tight in my belly, and I’m so ready to fucking come.
Just a little longer…
I torture him again, letting him get even closer than before. I thrust my cock between his legs in time with my fist flying over his, twisting my palm around his head. His breaths become shorter and heavier, and his muscles go taut.
My hand once more wraps tightly around his base, interrupting the impending explosion.
He thrashes harder than ever, forcing me to press my body into his back to hold him in place. Somehow, he still doesn’t move his legs.
“Fuck you! Fuck you!” he screams and writhes. “I fucking hate you.”
“Good. It’s about time.”
That’s when I see the tear. I know it’s not water dripping from his hair. It falls from the corner of his eye when he blinks and goes streaking down his cheek.
I don’t know what makes me do it, but I swipe my tongue up his cheek, licking up the salty drop, groaning at the taste of his desperation.
More tears follow, and a sob wracks his body.
“Please, please, please, please, please.”
There’s something about his begging and his crying that has me wanting him to come. That has me wanting to be the one to make him come. Holding the power over his pleasure, over his orgasm, and being the one to grant it to him, is more intoxicating than any other kind of power I’ve wielded.
“Now, Cason.” My voice is deep, gravelly. I bite the shell of his ear, then the soft flesh of his neck just below it as I let my fist fly over his cock again. “Now. Or the offer is gone.”
His body fucking seizes three seconds later.
His mouth opens wide, but no sound comes out.
He spasms, and his cock pulses in my hand just before his release shoots out of him.
It’s the way he obeyed in an instant along with the look of pure ecstasy on his face that has my own orgasm slamming into me in violent waves, my cum flooding the tight space between his thighs.
There’s static behind my eyes, like the moment before a blackout, holy and brutal all at once.
Cason slumps in my hold, his dark, thick lashes brushing his cheeks as his eyes close. Both our chests heave as we fight to catch our breaths.
“Thank you.”
His whispered gratitude makes me feel like a fucking god.
My softening cock slips from between his sticky legs as I turn his limp body around so he’s facing me with his back against the wall. I bring my hand up that’s still covered in his cum and sweep my fingers over his face, smearing the evidence of his orgasm all around his mouth.
I’ve never touched another man’s cum before, but I’m not nearly as grossed out as I thought I’d be.
I’m not grossed out at all.
His lips part, and his tongue lazily peeks out to lick at my fingers. His eyes slowly open, and his gaze locks onto mine as he sucks my thumb into his mouth.
The groan that rumbles up my throat is entirely involuntary.
He smirks around my thumb.
I pull it out and take a step back. He barely manages to hold himself up, using the wall as leverage. My cum drips down the inside of his thigh, and his own is painted across his face. He continues staring at me as though I hold his entire universe in my hands.
“Clean up. Again.”
Stepping out of the shower, I grab one of the extra towels to wipe down my hand and my dick before tucking the latter back into my underwear and zipping up my jeans. When I peer back at the shower, Cason is covered in suds again, and he’s looking at me through the glass like he wished I had stayed.
I couldn’t.
I shouldn’t have even been in there in the first place.
After he’s finished, he steps out, and I hand him a clean towel. We don’t speak as he dries off and dresses in fresh clothes. There’s still not a word spoken as I walk him back to his room and lock him inside.
Cason. Silent.
It doesn’t sit right.
I stand there for a while after, leaning my forehead against the door with my eyes closed. Technically, I didn’t hurt him. But…I still feel guilty. I was pissed. And it wasn’t even Cason I was angry at.
It’s this fucking job.
It’s the fact that he was right.
And now that the distraction is over…
What the fuck do I do about it?