CHAPTER FOUR #2
The brick wall halts his escape, trapping him for a change. “Will that change anything?”
As if I’ll answer that. “Who takes care of you?”
His jaw hardens. “Don’t fuck with me.”
“I’m more interested in fucking you.” Mutual desire pulses between the short distance separating us. “How long has it been?”
Byron glares, but doesn’t move otherwise. “You’re crossing a line.”
“Says the man who tracked me down at a cafe.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?” I press my body against his. “How were you planning to sweeten the deal?”
The brown in his eyes brightens. “A signing bonus.”
“Money is nice, but predictable. Let’s see what else you can come up with.”
“What do you want?”
“Control,” I breathe. “Let’s forget the boundaries. Just relax. Enjoy yourself for a moment.”
He trembles against me, which is confusing. But then I feel the unmistakable steel of his arousal. My smile is predatory and victorious, like slipping on a favorite push-up bra. This game boosts me to a blissful state I’ve rarely reached before.
“Do you like this?” I grind my hips along his cock.
The bob of his Adam’s apple is telling. “No.”
“Liar,” I whisper against his lips.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Of course,” I scoff. “It’s a bit of payback for putting me on the spot. But maybe you’ll get something out of it.”
Byron’s breathing is labored. “You’re catching me at a weak moment.”
“How does it feel?” I have personal experience with the pressure he inflicts. It’s only fair he gets a taste.
My cheek caresses his. The coarse friction from his beard is gasoline on the fire and I’m going to watch him burn.
Specks of gray are buried in the dark bristles, giving a nod to our difference in age.
There are probably a solid ten years separating us.
My bottom lip gets trapped between my teeth as I wonder if he knows what to do with that gap.
“Stop,” he rasps.
I go still. “Do you actually mean that?”
His head jerks to the side, confirming what I already knew. That grants me permission to cup the bulge nudging into my torso. A throb greets my daring exploration.
My mouth curls in satisfaction. “I have an almighty Benson in my grasp. Who would’ve thought?”
He shifts in my hold, pushing closer. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Wouldn’t dare, but I’m not going to waste this opportunity either.”
“You’re a witch,” he mutters.
“Been called worse.” My heart races as I grip him tighter. “Such a big boy.”
“Don’t sound too surprised,” he grits through clenched teeth.
“I’m not. Your ego and influence are larger than average. It’s only logical that you’d be blessed with a cock to match. I bet you’ve never wanted for anything.”
His eyes flash. “You don’t know shit about me.”
“Tell me. Do you want more?”
His nod is sharp. “But it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Just a quick release. In return, you’ll let me go.”
The strain in his neck highlights his fading restraint. “You won’t get far.”
“That’s for me to worry about.”
I start pumping him at a steady pace. It’s difficult through his jeans, but I manage.
Our difference in height comes in handy.
My arm doesn’t have to stretch far as I increase the tempo.
Tension radiates through him. His response is intoxicating.
I find myself preening, ready to unleash the full impact of my talents.
And then Byron whimpers. It’s such a vulnerable sound, one I doubt he realizes he even made. Maybe he’ll regret it later.
I made him do that. My touch is making him weak. Me.
My confidence sips on his surrender, the soft pleas that encourage me to keep going. He wants this. Maybe even needs it. Badly. I’ll never hear him say it, but I can feel it with every twitch of his muscles. My own desires feed on it.
This tough man is submitting to pleasure he’s so clearly been lacking. The fact that it’s provided under my command is an addictive feeling. I want to push him further. All the way over the edge until he’s begging me for relief.
And that’s when he gives it to me.
“Please,” he whispers.
I stroke him faster. “Please what?”
“Please don’t stop. Please go faster. Please make me come. Just… please.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” I purr.
My palm grips him harder as I increase my pace.
I press our bodies even closer, granting him more friction.
Tremors quake through him before he’s thrusting into my grasp.
His hands clench at his sides. A loud drum beats in his chest. Tendons and muscles flex to the point of snapping.
If he grinds his teeth any harder, he’s going to crack a molar.
The desperation in those reflexive actions is an incentive.
I’m in control, which probably drives him even crazier than what I’m doing to his cock. But it’s not enough to stop me.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “I’m close.”
I contemplate edging him or leaving him hanging. Neither feels like a victory compared to making him come undone. “That’s a good boy. Make a mess in your pants. I want to see it.”
And that’s all he needs. He shudders and jerks in my hold, bucking against me. It’s hard to hang on, but he’s almost there. Breathy sounds spill from him. The helpless pitch of his lust turns me on.
His wild motions suddenly still. A guttural groan rips from him as he finds release. My eyes widen on the dark stain that instantly soaks the front of his jeans. It’s a visual I’ll never forget.
“Consider that a parting gift,” I murmur while putting some much-needed space between us.
Byron scowls, but the expression lacks fire. His chest rises and falls quickly. An unmistakable pink dusts his cheeks. This disheveled version of him is too endearing.
Especially when he says, “I’m not letting you get away with that.”
“You just did.” I flick the brim of his hat. “It was nice seeing you, stud.”