20. Twelve Fuckers #2
I nod immediately, lashing my tongue against him before I flatten my tongue completely against him.
“Only special boys get to come,” I murmur a moment later. Hooking my fingers into the top of his underwear, I hastily tug them down his hips and enjoy every fucking second of it.
Anders sucks in a breath when his gorgeous cock springs free with a fucking sinful expression on his face.
“Beautiful,” I mutter, curving my fingers around him. The heat from his length kisses the center of my palm as I rub the pad of my thumb over the soft, already leaking slit of his tip. “Crafted by God Himself.”
He laces his fingers through my hair, yanking hard when I dart my tongue out and taste the pearl of precome. His grip tightens even stronger as I swirl my tongue along the ridge of his crown and wrap my lips around him entirely.
Never in my life have I felt the weight of someone’s cock in my mouth and thought to myself to suck him until his balls shoot blanks.
Honestly, it’s never happened before…
My mouth fucking waters at the thought of tasting his warm ejaculate. I pucker my wet lips and savor every veiny inch.
The tiny moans and whimpers that left his lips before don’t hold a flame to the moment he finally loses control of himself, collapsing against the counter and fully surrendering himself to me.
I dip down and slurp his balls into my mouth, grazing my teeth over the thin stretch of flesh.
“Fuck,” he whines, squeezing his legs together.
Just knowing I’m giving him such pleasure is enough to cause an eruption low in my stomach.
My cock throbs behind the thick material of my sweats, bulging against its constraints and begging to be released, but I have more pressing matters to worry about.
I lick two of my fingers and reach behind to brush them up and down his crack before narrowing in on his hole, applying the teensiest bit of pressure against his pussy until he audibly starts to purr like a kitten.
His breath quickens.
Without actually breaching his hole, I swirl my digits over his rigid, puckered entrance.
I have his cock back in my mouth a second later, sucking my cheeks in around his length.
It’s impossible to focus on one singular thing…
the sound of my saliva sloshing in the back of my throat…
the feeling of his tip brushing across the roof of my mouth…
the way he groans when I dig the tip of my tongue into his urethra, forcing his legs to twitch uncontrollably from how hard I suck and spit…
Neither of us can speak. My body is brimming with lust, arousal flowing though my blood like a fucking drug. Anders falls more and more incoherent, his fingers in my hair losing their strength as he begins rocking and lazily thrusting.
My nose brushes against the smooth, hairless skin of his pelvis.
Teasing the outside of his pussy in slow, languid strokes, I press my fingers into him a little.
My eyes flick back up to him. Anders looks down at me with eyes as dark as the night sky and crimson-kissed cheeks.
His bottom lip quivers as he clenches his cunt, nearly sucking my fingers in.
I know he’s there when I feel his pucker throb beneath my touch.
“You should…pull back,” he breathlessly pants. “Mhmm-fffuckkkk. I’m…gonna come, Pet’ka.”
“Mmm. Feed it to me, baby. I wanna taste your creamy mess.”
With a final shake in his legs, Anders folds over, holding my head for balance as he spurts his liquid gold and squeezes his soft fucking thighs around me.
This is Heaven. Absolutely Nirvana.
I suck him dry, taking every last drop and swallowing it so he can be a part of me.
Anders drops down and wraps his arms around my neck, peering into my eyes with a drunken gaze, smiling lazily as he leans in close. He brushes his nose over mine, our mouths so close that I can practically taste his breath.
All I want to do is devour him. Consume him.
Whatever feeling I have right now that’s flowing through my veins, it’s telling me one thing: Mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
The single word echoes so loudly in the back of my mind that it feels almost dangerous. Not because I’m feeling possessive, but because I’m feeling something stronger.
“I’ve waited so long,” Anders breathes. “You own me.”
Fuck.
I own him…
What the hell did I just do?
Oh my fucking God. What the hell did I just fucking do? I just sucked off Luca’s brother…
Before I can even register what’s happening, Anders squeezes my jaw and mashes his lips to mine. His slippery, wet tongue slides over mine and laps up the traces of his salty cum.
The kiss does something to me. Snaps me back to reality.
Because he’s kissing me like he’s drunk.
Fucking hell. He’s drunk. He came home drunk and I fucking sucked his cock in the middle of the fucking kitchen.
There is something wrong with me. I’m a monster. I’m a massive piece of shit.
He slips his hand down my pants.
Fuck. “Ander—”
“Mmm. You’re sooo hard,” he murmurs into my mouth. “Your turn, Petchka.”
“Sweetheart,” I say begrudgingly.
“No,” he stubbornly pouts.
I exhale sharply. “Sweetheart, please.”
“No, Petchkins.” His grip on my jaw tightens. Anders pulls back and shakes his head, sticking out his bottom lip. “I’m not sweetheart tonight. Call me something else.”
“Please.”
The air in the room thickens. I breathe unevenly as I remind myself how the fuck to think.
I shouldn’t have done that. I know I shouldn’t have.
But my body still aches with the memory of what it felt like. Worse than that, I can still hear the soft whimpers. What undoes me, though, is the trust he felt. He didn’t stop me. It fucking undoes me.
The boy I’ve watched grow up. The boy who still falls asleep on the couch during movies sometimes. The boy who steals my beers and expensive wine. The boy who rolls his eyes every time I call him sweetheart.
The boy I’m absolutely, undeniably fucked over.
Reality crashes back in, hitting me deep in the chest and hurting more than it should. Or maybe it should hurt more.
“Get upstairs,” I murmur in a low, forcibly controlled voice. I rise to my feet, pulling him with me. “Time for bed.”