He nodded, dragging his fingers across my cheek and over my lips. It was tender and soft. It was nearly fond, and then the first two fingers of his hand pushed past my lips, scissoring my mouth apart. The edges of my teeth bit into the calloused pads of his fingertips, and he slid in, reaching deeper and pushing my tongue flat.
Sage held my stare and fucked my throat with his hand until tears slicked out of my eyes, running down my cheeks and catching in the corners of my mouth. I could taste the sweat on his hand, the salt of my tears, and my body retched forward as I struggled against the urge to gag around his hand.
“Don’t fight it,” he soothed, petting the back of my tongue.
I willed myself to breathe through my nose, only to be rewarded with a deeper reach, another round of tears, and a smile. In my pants, my cock leaked, a wet spot of arousal pooling and darkening the material between my legs. Sage made a pleased noise and with his free hand, pulled the waistband of his gym shorts down.
He took himself in his fist and jerked himself off until he was ready to come, then he pulled me forward, taking his hand out of the way and forcing me down until the head of his cock dragged over the spot his fingers had just been. He came like that, with hot jets of cum choking me as they spattered against the back of my throat. My muscles contracted around him as he emptied himself.
With a sigh, Sage threaded his fingers together around the back of my head, holding himself in my mouth. It was nearly impossible to breathe with a throat full of cock and a nose full of coarse, curled hairs. But Sage’s hold was tight, and when I struggled for breath, he pushed me further into his lap. The edges of my vision started to darken, black dots sparkling like fireworks in my periphery. I grabbed his thighs and tried to sit up, but he held me down.
“Don’t tease, Golden,” he taunted. “You know I like it when you fight.”
So I did what came easy. What he wanted. What we both wanted.
I fought.
Sage’s cock thickened again in my mouth like he hadn’t just shot a load right into my stomach, and the way he laughed at my struggle had my own cock pulsing in time with the beat of my heart.
“You’re so sexy like this. Fuck.” He arched off the chair. “It makes taking you down so much more fulfilling.”
I grazed my teeth over the base of his cock in response, and he answered me with a fist in my hair.
“I’ll make you a deal, Golden,” he whispered, folding himself forward so his mouth was close to my ear, so it was harder for me to breathe. “Let me fuck your throat until you pass out. Let me see those pretty little eyes of yours close, then I’ll pack you up and get you to the cabin and do it all over again.”
I wanted to tell him no. I didn’t want to give in. I wanted him to earn it. To work a little more for it. As if he could read my thoughts, my hazy brain registered the cold press of a gun barrel against my temple. I didn’t know if it was my gun or his, if it was loaded or not. I hoped not, but also…
With Sage, I didn’t know.
I went soft beneath his hands, letting the thickness of his erection fill my throat, the bottom of his stomach obstructing my nostrils. Sage growled, cock pulsing against my tongue as a small stream of cum dribbled into my throat, and then I took half a breath. It wasn’t enough and my eyes fluttered closed, just like he’d asked of me.
I knew he’d always give me what I asked, and in return, I would do the same for him.
Chapter Thirty
Sage
“Do you remember what you said to me when we were here before?” Golden stomped his boots on the planked wooden porch while I tried to find the key to the front door.
“I said a lot of things to you.”
Success.
The front door swung open, but I paused before stepping inside. Golden was right behind me, his breath loud in my ear. The anticipation had been killing us both, and after everything that’d happened, I couldn’t get him here soon enough. We needed it.
“You told me you were the best lover I’d ever have,” he said.
“And then you safeworded.”
I very clearly remembered the way that conversation went. I promised him that, then I blew his mind, and he told me it was enough.
“But I didn’t leave.”
“If you do it again,” I cleared my throat, “which I hope you don’t, things aren’t going to go the way they did before.”
We’d been so new and so fragile then. We hadn’t even been anything, really, and he’d used his safeword and I’d climbed off him and let him do what he needed to do to get his head straight. I knew that was the point of a safeword, but that wasn’t what I’d wanted to do. When he said it, I’d wanted to pull him into my arms and hold him until things were better. I wanted to care for him. And he’d accused me of being nice, as if I had it in me.
I was only being decent.
