Seven
Logan
Moaning comes from the ground and I open my eyes, glaring at the ceiling.
Last night didn’t go at all as planned. Not one fucking bit.
Jimmy came over for dinner and we picked Reese up from his house, driving around until we got word of a party happening close by.
None of the people we knew would be there were really any of Blake’s crowd, and I didn’t expect him to show up.
He stepped out of his car like he was expecting something of me, giving me that needy stare, and I turned his ass away, not giving in like he was probably thinking I would.
I didn’t need to look behind me to know he was sulking either.
It didn’t matter how I made him feel outside, or in the house when I once again gave what he wanted to everyone else but him.
But this fucker found a way to pay me back for it tenfold, by passing out as I was getting him into my car after his shithead dad told us to leave.
I got him to my house and he puked twice, nearly missing the toilet, and after getting him cleaned up and into one of my shirts, I got him settled on a makeshift bed on the floor.
As soon as I shut off the lights and closed my damn eyes, he cried and muttered a bunch of random shit I couldn’t understand before crashing back out.
Fucker talks a lot in his sleep too. That whole perfect image he’s held up in front of me for years has vastly faded in such a short amount of time.
Loud rustling of the sheets has me peeking over the edge of my bed. Blake’s flipping out, eyes roaming around the room in a state of panic as he looks down at his bare legs.
“You’re awake,” I say, catching him off guard.
His eyes look like they’re about to spill out of his head when he looks up at me. Hair a mess and sleep lines on his cheek, he almost looks appealing. Almost.
“It wasn’t a dream. I’m really here. In your house.”
“Yeah. I’d think you’d recognize it from last time.”
He rubs at his face, dragging the blanket back up his body. “I . . . things look a little different down here, and I think I might still be drunk.”
I make a sound with my throat. “Yeah, you sure did put a lot away last night. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”
Swallowing hard, he blushes. “I normally don’t drink that much. Don’t know what got into me.”
He wasn’t getting enough attention before is all. “I see. You ready to go get your car or should we wait some more?”
He smacks his lips together, his face full of disgust. “You got a spare toothbrush?”
“Maybe. My mom’s one of those crazed couponers. If we do, it’ll be in the cabinet below the sink in the bathroom.”
He looks at the bedroom door and back at me. “Is it out there?”
“Yeah. In the hall. Don’t worry, my mom’s at her new job this morning. It’s just us.”
He lowers his gaze, tugging the shirt down his hips as he lifts the blanket. “Where are my clothes?”
“In the washer. They were pretty gross after you vomited up all the food you ate yesterday,” I say gruffly, sitting up.
Grabbing onto the bed, he steadies himself on his feet, and catches himself when he almost falls right in my lap. A blush creeps up his cheeks, only growing as his eyes travel over the tattoos on my chest.
“That’s a lot of ink.”
“Yeah.” Shrugging, I look down, spreading my legs under my blanket. “Not the only place I have them either.”
His eyes bulge and I laugh as he falls back on his ass.
The shirt rides up his thighs, the sorry excuse for underwear peeking from below along with half his right ass cheek.
I close my legs tightly together, hating myself for the buzz shooting through me.
I mean, a hot piece of ass is a hot piece of ass, right?
My body would react this way to almost any half?naked man.
Looking away from me, he gets up again and wobbles to the bathroom, and I dress in a pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt before he returns.
His hair is flatter against his head, no longer flying in different directions, and he looks more awake.
“You were right.” He chuckles, crossing his feet.
“She has like ten unopened packs under there. Lots of shampoo and soap too.”
My smile comes easier than it ever has with him, and it’s the mention of my mom’s shenanigans that really does it. “Sounds about right. You hungry? I can fix us some eggs on toast. You might feel better after you eat something.”
“Yeah. Some toast and coffee might help me sober up the rest of the way.”
“Yeah. Usually does the trick for me. I’ll toss your clothes in the dryer too.”
He follows me to the kitchen, sitting in the first chair he comes across. I turn the stove on, greasing the pan and cracking four eggs when it’s hot enough. While they cook, I load the dryer and turn the coffee pot on.
“I guess I’d be asking too much if I requested a cappuccino, huh?” He wiggles in his seat, cocking a brow.
“I’m afraid your only choices are black or with cream and sugar.” I lean against the counter, adding water at the top.
“Cream and sugar it is, then. Lots of it. Preferbly dairy free if you got it.”
“What’s even the point of drinking coffee, then,” I mutter. “And we have coconut milk.”
“It’s still caffeine, that’s fine.”
“Barely,” I grind out, flipping the eggs. “Hope over easy is okay.”
“Yeah. I’ll eat just about anything right now.” He lifts his head, sniffing the air.
“Anything, huh?”
His face flushes and he looks down at the table, twisting his shirt with his hands—or should I say my shirt.
Which I don’t want to admit looks good on him by the way.
He doesn’t look as bad sitting in my kitchen as he should either.
I plate the eggs, adding bread to the toaster before filling two mugs of coffee.
Setting his in front of him, I point at where the creamer and sugar are before taking the seat across from him.
He gives me a look of surprise and then slowly stands up from his chair. His steps are slow at first, and then he moves faster when the toast is ready, grabbing that for himself too.
When he begins to set one on my plate, I shake my head, pushing at his hand. “You can have both. You need it more than me.”
“Thanks,” he says, almost too quietly, sitting back in his chair.
We both eat without so much as a word between us, sipping our drinks in between stuffing our faces.
Blake rinses his plate after me and sets it in the dishwasher next to mine, doing the same with the rest of his dishes.
As he’s about to sit back down, I grab his arm, dark thoughts stirring inside me.
Wanting to test out how much control I have, I hook my other fingers around his chin when he looks back at me.
“Drop to your knees.”
His breaths stutter. “Here?”
“Yes. Right where I’m telling you to do it.”
Licking his lips, he lowers himself to the ground. His knees hit the floor with a soft thud, and when he reaches for my pants, I shake my head.
“Did I tell you to do that?”
“No,” he says between soft panting.
“No, I didn’t. Stay exactly where you are with your hands at your sides.” I grab the back of his head, yanking at his hair. “You don’t look too bad like this.”
A moan slips from his lips when I tug tighter, and a tremor runs through him when I stretch one side of his mouth open with my fingers.
“I’m going to let you touch me today. But only certain parts of you can.
Only because I want to see you look like the whore you were acting like in your videos, but this time with my dick in your mouth instead of the dildo. ”
He makes a high?pitched sound, following my fingers with his mouth when I slide them up his cheek.
“You won’t move, and you’ll let me use you until I’m done, you hear?”
His cheeks sink inward and he nods.
“Good boy.”
He shudders, eyes growing bigger when I yank my pants down low enough for my cock to spring free.
I trace the seam of his lips with my cock head, brushing side to side before pushing myself inside.
His mouth opens, tongue lying flat as I buck my hips, gliding right over it.
He moans around me, the vibrations causing sparks to dance along my skin.
I plunge toward the back of his throat and he gags, eyes wet when I pull out to shove myself back in.
He stays still, letting me use him as a fuck toy.
And I do, keeping my eyes open as I sink into his warmth and watch his eyes turn bloodshot.
He makes choking sounds, saliva spilling around the corners of his lips, and I rub it over his cheeks.
I can’t believe it. I really have my bully on the floor allowing me to use him like a fucking fleshlight.
He feels so good too, constricting around me and adding the perfect suction.
His hands shake at his sides and he wants to touch me more.
But he doesn’t. All because I told him not to.
I can tell he’s convincing himself it’s enough for now, and once again I bet he thinks he’s winning.
“Such a good toy you make. I think you were made to serve me this way. Only me. Look how easily you’re taking what I’m giving.” I rub his hair before tugging on it again. Pain flashes in his squinting eyes and he bucks his hips, moving a hand between his legs.
“Stop that,” I demand, kicking at his arm with my foot. “You don’t get to come today. You only get to help me get there and then wear me on your skin everywhere you go after I take you to your car.”
He whimpers, the sound adding more sensations, and I roll my hips, pounding his face harder.
My balls draw tight, and as I’m coming I pull out during the last half of my orgasm, shooting all over his face.
His eyes flutter closed, body struggling to sit up straight.
He digs his nails into his knees, keeping his mouth open.