“True…” I whine. “Please.”
He ignores my pleas, however, repeating this pattern across my body like a sadist. Drifting his fingers over an increasingly sensitized patch of skin, his lips then trace over the path of his fingers, all with the teasing press of his steel length against mine.
I have no sense of how much time has passed, but something tells me he could go at this for hours if he wanted to.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re needy,” he murmurs.
He runs a fingertip through the precum pooling on my belly, tasting me, driving me up a goddamn wall.
“Do you need to sleep?” he asks, his words gentle. As though he isn’t an absolute tyrant. “I can wait till the morning.”
“Don’t you dare,” I hiss.
Chuckling, he grabs the bottle of oil—fucking finally—and taps the label. “Sensual,” he mouths with a devil grin.
“Stop teasing me,” I demand. “Oil up that monster between your legs and fuck me.”
“All in good time, my pretty.”
Grinning like a villain, he pulls me into a sitting position, then slips behind me, settling against the pillows before pulling my back to his front.
“Come on, baby. Lean back. Let go a little.”
I do as he asks, lying against his chest, settling my head on his shoulder, my entire body thrumming with need. He poursthe oil into his hands, warming it before soothing it up and down my torso and inner thighs. The tease. This goes on for far longer than it should, and I can’t tell if I want him to hurry up or never stop touching me like this.
When his fingertips finally pass over my nipples, they’re ripe for the taking, the oil so perfect on my skin.
“More. Please, more.”
“I can give you more, baby.”
He adds more oil to his hands and returns to my thighs, going in wider and wider circles until the edges of his fingers graze my cock.
“Please.”
He sucks kisses along my shoulder and neck, one hand finally circling my poor, neglected cock. Teasing my oiled-up nipples with his free hand, he jacks me nice and slow. I whine, wanting him to tighten his grip, to go faster, but something tells me that if I ask for it, he won’t give it to me.
So instead, I twist against him, silently begging for more pressure, moreanything. He acquiesces, tightening his grip, stroking me faster, then faster still. I cry out, so fucking close. Just as the orgasm is about to hit, he removes his hands from my body.
“No!” I shout, then drop my voice to a whimper. “Please. I need it.Please.”
“Mm.” He nuzzles against my ear, letting his hands lazily drift up and down my abs. “So pretty when you beg.”
My muscles contract and release under his diabolical hands, my chest dramatically rising and falling as I try to remember the basics of breathing.
“I need it so much. Please. Please touch me. Fuck me. Something. Anything.”
“Oh.Does my baby boy need my big, thick cock?”
“Yes, I do. I really do. Split me with that monster meat of yours.”
Truett laughs, and my face goes hot.How embarrassing.
I pull away from him, intent on flipping over and begging him to take me, but he tsks and grabs me around the waist, pushing me against the bed, my cock sticking straight up. Ignoring my whining and begging, he adds a bit more oil to a couple of fingers. Before I can make demands, he silences me with a hand necklace, locking me in with his gaze as he begins to fuck himself on his own fingers.
“What are you doing?” I ask, breathless.
He grins. “Whatever the fuck I want.”
