Nathaniel #2
I guess it does seem odd to him. But how am I meant to answer that when it’ll ruin all of my plans?
When I say nothing, he sighs. “You’re impossible. This must be why you’re single.”
My head cocks in confusion at his words.
“Why do you assume I’m single?” I ask.
“Uh, because last night I thought you were going to devour me at any given second.”
He’s not wrong. I just didn’t think he noticed.
Again, I shrug. “Hate and lust can co-exist.”
“So you hate me,” he says, and it’s not a question.
“More or less.”
“But you want me, too,” he adds, a slow grin shaping his lips. And damn, does it look good on him.
“A fuck is a fuck,” I say, giving him a bored expression rather than the hungry one I want to show.
Landon’s smile falls.
“Aw, is that what Julian said when he turned you down?” I mock. It’s a low blow, but I need this to progress, and I have a feeling I’m spot on.
Actually, I know I am, considering how he just smashed the glass he was holding against the wall next to my head with one powerful throw.
Annnnd that was my last vial of B109. That shit costs thousands of dollars; the organization will not be happy with me.
Therefore, I am seriously unhappy with him.
I rush forward, pinning him to the mattress beneath me as he struggles, glaring all the while.
As he finally settles, realizing I am far stronger than he is, I let my weight fully rest along the length of his body.
The length of his body and his hardening cock. Oh, god. This is bad. My mouth is running away, right alongside my own thickening shaft.
“I should fuck you into submission, you cocky little shit. I should rip you apart so thoroughly that you can never throw a tantrum again.” The words are harsh and laced with need, the feeling of his lustful body egging me on in the worst way.
Landon takes this opportunity, the one in which I’m distracted by the feel of him, to flip us until he’s straddling me.
“Maybe it’ll be me who fucks you into submission, Nate,” he sneers.
Nate. Yes, please.
“I don’t bottom,” I answer simply, though my anger still coats each syllable.
A dirty smirk forms on Landon’s face, his hands gripping the strands of my dark hair. “Fucking somebody into submission doesn’t require you to be a top. I’m just that good.”
I fucking bet he is. With his body as beautiful as it is, his face a temptation of its own, I’m sure he owns plenty of men with just a glance.
But I sure as hell won’t admit that. Not out loud.
“I highly doubt it,” is what I say instead.
And it’s a mistake. A big fucking mistake, because Landon seems to take this as a challenge.
With a steady glare pinned to my face, his hands drop down to the button of my jeans, popping it and pulling my zipper down.
“Hey!” I shout, doing my best to resist temptation and push him away. But Landon is yanking my jeans down, staring at the outline of my hardened cock.
“Big,” he observes calmly. “Bigger than me. I rarely see that.”
Pride surges through me, and I forget to tell him to get off me as I soak in the feeling, soak in his gaze.
Until he pulls my briefs down as well, revealing all of me to him so quickly that I get whiplash. His eyes burn holes into the soft skin of my shaft, his expression hungry.
“Landon, stop—”
He takes me into his hot fucking mouth without hesitation.
I shouldn’t do this; I shouldn’t want it. Not only because my own morals prevent me from getting in on with someone so vile, but because the organization will kill me if I return with no success, and drained balls.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan, feeling his tongue assault my sensitive skin as he sucks and sucks.
I need to stop him. I could easily overpower him and push him away, and that’s what I should be doing. Right now.
Right… this very… second.
Landon hums, his lashes fluttering as he takes more of me. And yeah, I’m done for. I’m totally obliterated.
My hands grip the strands of his light brown hair, pulling him further down onto my cock.
“Jesus, babydoll,” I choke out, my hips lifting off the bed to meet his mouth.
Oral has never felt so good. So forbidden and delicious.
Landon lifts a hand, cupping my balls as he takes me to the back of his throat, swallowing greedily.
I have to be leaking down his throat, feeding him my precome by the second. I can feel it, how desperately my body craves to fill him up. To give him my release.
The hand not currently cupping my sac moves to my stomach, pressing feather-light touches to my abs. If I keep staring at his face, I’ll come, so I drop my head back onto the bed and clench my eyes shut.
A second later, he tugs harshly on my balls, popping off my cock.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I normally don’t follow orders—not for people like him. But I find myself angling my head, staring down at him anyway. Anything I can do to get him to finish what he’s started, I will.
He swallows me again, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he rubs his tongue against the underside of my shaft.
“F-fuck, you’re good at that,” I praise, my hands rubbing at his scalp as he hums once more, pleased and blissful.
Landon was right. Not that I didn’t suspect it, but now I know. I am intimately familiar with his claim—he can most definitely force a man into submission without ever offering up his tight little ass.
And even if he did, I have the feeling Landon could break a man; that he could be beneath them, taking it like a whore, and still come out on top.
Landon sucks hard, his nose now flush with the sprinkle of trimmed pubic hair I keep as my dick stays nestled in the back of his throat.
And as his gaze lifts back up, those green eyes locking onto mine, he grazes his teeth over me just slightly, and I come.
I come hard, my hands shaking as I grip his hair even tighter, my hips slamming forward.
“Yes, little Lanny. Drink it all,” I moan, feeling his hot, tight throat milk me dry.
And he does. Landon drinks every drop, not wasting a single lick of me.
I’m panting, gasping against the pleasure of it as I fall back against the bed. He gives me a couple more powerful pulls, torturing my oversensitive cock, before he yanks off of me, wiping his mouth.
It’s silent for a moment, the two of us staring at each other. Then, he seems to realize how big a mistake this was, because he stands and runs a hand through his hair to fix the strands, his eyes wide.
“I won’t ask for your opinion on my skills; I already know you’ll lie,” he says, but the snobbish tone of his voice is minimized by how rough the words sound leaving him.
He walks toward the door, the hard outline of his own dick still obvious from under his gym shorts. I stare at his backside, struck silent as I watch him go.
Once he reaches the door, he grasps the handle, turning to look at me over his shoulder.
“And just so you know,” he says, and this time, he doesn’t sound so angry. He sounds defeated. “I’ll be making your life just as miserable as you’ve tried to make mine. That’s a promise.”
Then, he’s slipping out of the room, leaving the door to shut behind him with a soft click.
Well, I most certainly failed my mission.
But more importantly, as he threatened me just now, I swear I saw a hint of an overwhelming sadness in the depths of those green eyes. In the way his lips tilted downward.
But then it was gone. Fleeting and teasing.
I understand Landon Presley a little less now.