7. TATE #4
I pat my lap. “Sit. Facing away from me.”
He assesses my lap, figuring out how he’ll fit, lips forming a wry twist. He’s not used to being in this position in the relationship.
I bet people sat in his lap. His cheeks color the prettiest shade that I think I’ll call embarrassment pink.
His round hockey ass finally connects with my right thigh, and I pull him back until he’s lying against my chest. I take his arms, pulling them back and hooking his hands around my neck.
“These stay here. Move them, and I stop.”
“I’m too big for your lap, Tate. This is fucking stupid,” he says, but he doesn’t move.
“You fit perfectly, dollface.” I smooth my way down his arm, my fingers skimming over his toned arms. I love that he’s a big man, I’m gonna reduce him down to my obedient toy. “Now, let’s see … what did you say? My memory fails me.”
He arches, tilting his head back to look at me, but he doesn’t move his arms. He wants to curse me out, the choice words are on the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back. “P-Play with my body. Touch me,” he whispers. “Stroke my dick.”
“Just stroke it? What, like for fun?”
I tweak his nipples some more; he’s already squirming on my thigh. He sucks in his bottom lip.
“Stroke it—my cock—till I come. Please. Make me all yours, Tate.”
Okay, I might have two kryptonites—his kisses and him begging me to make him mine. My hand travels down, down, down, into his boxers. My fingers connect with the head of his cock, and it’s electric. He cries out, gasping. I pull it out, wanting to get a good look.
It’s big. Not as big as mine, but I’m sure he’s impressed a lot of bedmates with it. Thinking of him with other bedmates has my hand squeezing hard around his shaft.
“Ahhh!” he cries out. “What the fuck?”
“Are you with anyone else?” He’d better not be. I’ve never said it explicitly, but I’ve made it clear in other ways.
“No, I …” He takes a breath, hissing through the pain.
I ease off but leave my hand there—a warning that if I don’t like what he says, I’m squeezing again.
“I went through a phase during my rookie year in Phoenix. I had a lot of sex. Often, unsafe and unprotected sex. I’ve been tested, though, and I’m thankfully clear. I’ve abstained since then.”
“Really? No sex at all?”
“Unless you count me jerking off in the shower, no.”
That’s suspicious. Why? The most beautiful specimen on earth, and he’s suddenly celibate? It doesn’t add up. But it works for me. Less people for me to hunt down and bury.
“I like that,” I say, stroking gently, enjoying the way he writhes. I reach into my pocket with my free hand and pull out the lube. There’s that scowl again. “Problem?”
“You had such a burr up your ass about my sex history, meanwhile, you keep lube in your fucking desk.”
Oh. It’s better than I could have hoped for. “Are you jealous, dollface?” The cap snicks, and I steep his cock in lube, drowning the head, stroking wetness over the sleek shaft.
“Mmmmm …” His eyes flutter between open and closed, squirming, but he obediently keeps his arms around my neck.
“Not … jealous. Clearly, you’d have an aneurysm if I were with anyone else, but you’re …
” He pants, struggling to speak as I edge him toward an orgasm.
“You’re fucking your way through half the city … or something. How’s that fair?”
I let go of his cock, allowing the cool air to taunt it. It springs from my grip, bobbing and pulsing, the pelvic floor muscles at the base tightening, making his erection jerk.
He whines.
“Shhh …” I coo, exploring his body with my fingers, dragging them feather-light, discovering where he’s sensitive.
His body moves with my soft touches. It’s a special kind of torture.
His cock leaks. “I haven’t been with anyone since the day you sucked my cock in the woods.
I’ve had this in my drawer for a while. I’ve used it a few times on myself, thinking of you. ”
That seems to cool his jealousy a little. “I’m supposed to believe that?” he pants.
He’s right to be suspicious, especially of someone like me, but it’s true. I swallow his cock with my hand again. “You need me to prove my devotion, baby? I’m happy to.”
Ryan can’t answer that. He’s lost to arousal, moaning at the behest of my hand.
Time to turn this up a little bit. Spinning my chair, we face the window.
No one will see him. I wouldn’t allow someone else to view what’s mine, especially in this state.
I’d scoop out their eyeballs and feed them to them.
But he doesn’t know that.
Well, I guess he might suspect.
But he doesn’t know.
The shift is enough to rouse him from his pleasure. His fingers near my neck flinch as if he’s thinking about letting go. “Tate.”
“But I want to show everyone how mine you are. Can I do that, dollface?” I don’t play fair, smoothing a hand over his bare chest while I stroke his cock some more, scooping up lube that’s gathered at the base and repurposing it.
“Oh, god. Fuck, yeah … yeah okay. Show them.”