“Sorry, Cal. No go.”
Bastard!
No, of course he won’t give me what I want. Instead, his hands map my body, pinching my nipples, nipping at my inner thighs, palming my stinging cheeks. Every touch winds me tighter.
Breathy cries spill from my lips as pleasure threatens to consume me. I'm unraveling, desperate to ground myself in his solid strength.
I need to hold onto something.
Anything.
I’m floating too high.
“Look at you, taking it so well. Beg for me, Little Fawn. Let me hear how much you want it." His words are a growl, laced with hunger. He rocks against me, his thickness sliding along the crease of my thigh.
Even though begging is the last thing I want to give him, I still do. “Mac, please. Please play with my dick. I need your hand on me.” I'm panting now, writhing shamelessly. “I'm aching for it. For you.”
Mac's gaze is searing, pupils blown with lust as his hips flex, his engorged cock seeking friction against my fevered skin. But there's something almost vulnerable in the intensity of his stare. “Tell me you'll stay and be mine, and I'll help you finish right now.”
The request is no sooner out, and he looks away, Adam’s apple bobbing as he slightly shakes his head, now concentrating a bit too hard on my asshole and the vibrating toy.
Stay? Be his?
To be tied up like this, to be played with like some toy?
No.
No fucking way.
I don’t want to prolong whatever he’s doing to me, of how he makes me feel, or how he makes me want to instantly obey him . . . not when this is nothing more than a transaction to him.
He doesn’t really want me.
Before I can spiral on the thought, his thumb rubs maddening circles over my perineum and I nearly sob, my muscles clenching and unclenching as if my internal wiring is on the fritz.
Blinding ecstasy crashes over me as I come untouched, a slow dribble of release slicking my stomach. “Oh, God!”
“Such a beautiful boy when you come. Picture fuckin’ perfect.”
My entire body is covered in a layer of sweat, and inexplicable tears burn my eyes. I'm raw, flayed open, stripped bare in a way that terrifies me. I hardly know my own name at the moment.
Mac's voice breaks through my daze. “Now it's my turn.”
Chapter 7
I tremble as Mac tugs the toy out, my body aching at the sudden emptiness. He sets it aside, then shoves my knees closer to my head and slides a pillow under my hips. Every touch sends electric jolts across my sensitized skin.
“Fuck, Cal. You look so good like this, all tied up for me.” His heated gaze rakes over me as he slicks up his long, fat cock from root to tip. “It's been nothing but my hand since the last time we fucked, so I can’t promise to last as long as I’d like.”
I squirm under the intensity of his stare, my body responding to the blatant want in his eyes. Heat pools low in my belly, my cock twitching with interest.
He trails a hand up my thigh, his touch maddeningly light. My heart races as he positions himself and I shake my head frantically. “It’s too big. I don’t think I can take it.”
“You can.” Then he pushes forward, inch by excruciating inch.
My limbs yank against their restraints, the burn so intense, and I feel so full. When I struggle to suck in a breath, Mac stills, letting me adjust.
But, a moment later, he withdraws equally as slow, and it's like some kind of internal vacuum sucking my insides closed behind the retreat of his thick cock.
