He fucking laughs at me.
My cock is twitching between us like it’s been electrocuted and my balls throb at the denial.
“Were you close?”
I slam my eyes closed and cover my face with my hands. Raf pushes me backward and I bend, my shoulders landing against the floor, and he’s on top of me, one hand still in my hair, the other around my cock. He squeezes me tight, so tight that I think he might tear it off.
I yelp, or scream, or whatever I do, and he slams our mouths together and drinks my pain like it’s a fine wine. He pumps his hips against me and my legs spread, making room for him, and I hate the fact he’s dressed. That I’ve dressed him.
He brings me back to the cusp of my orgasm with the tight tunnel of his hand and licks his way down my face to my neck, where he sucks a bruise just below my ear and releases me.
Physically at least.
Mentally, there’s no going back from this.
I thump my head against the carpet and he drags his lips over mine. He’s smiling, and he rubs our noses together.
“I love you,” he says.
“I know.”
“I hurt you because I love you.”
I open my eyes and see the truth in his words. It’s written across his face, plain as day. He pinches my cheeks in his hand and my lips pucker and part. He spits into my mouth, then crashes our lips together, using his tongue to coat my teeth and gums with his spit, then he pulls back and spits again. Some of it goes inside, some of it doesn’t, and I flop backward with a frustrated moan.
I think I’m going to die from orgasm denial and all-consuming want.
So, I tell him, “I love you.”
Raf pulls me up until I’m sitting and we both stare at my cock like we don’t know what to do with it.
“Do you want help getting that to go away?”
I’m not sure anything he could give me at this point would count as help, so I decline. There’s a knock at the front door and he helps me to stand.
“You’re in no condition to greet our guests, which on one hand is the perfect condition to greet our guests.” He grins and brackets my hips with his hands. “But I know your sibling is coming, and that’s a limit, so go shower and then come join us.”
“Can I take care of this?”
“You can’t come, no.” He takes me in hand and strokes me from root to tip. He lifts onto his toes and presses our mouths together. “Don’t come, Charles.”
I grit my teeth and breathe through his assault, exhaling audibly when it finally ends.
“You really are perfect, you know that, right?”
“Thank you.” I look down at the floor, uncomfortable with the praise.
“Oh, one more thing,” he says from the doorway. “Lube and plug yourself after the shower. We have a little after party planned.”
