“How old are you again?” he asks, which is fair since I lied about half the information on those forms Liz the Filing-System Tyrant gave me, my birth date included. I wouldn’t put it past FISA, creepy fucks with zero respect for privacy that they are, to have gone looking for my birth certificate.
“Old enough to suck cock.” I offer him a caustic grin, feeling immediately satisfied by how his gaze catches on the sharp curve of my mouth. “Inallcountries. I’m an internationally legal cum swallower. Is this like airport control? Do you need to see my passport?”
“FISA gave you that passport,” Aaron points out, unphased, eyes till fixated on my mouth. He lets go of my hair suddenly and moves his hand down to swipe his thumb over my bottom lip in a slow and sensual glide of rougher skin on soft. His voice pitches to a slightly lower register, more sober again, when he adds, “Tell me you’re legal, Rohan, or this really isn’t happening.”
I squint at him a little, unsure if he means I should be telling him I’m legal so he can pretend I am, or if he’s asking for real.
Aaron puts those thoughts to bed by grasping my chin, hard, and tacking on an indisputable order. “Thetruth, Rohan.”
It doesn’t matter anyway since the honest answer is the right one.
I raise a hand to wrap my fingers around Aaron’s wrist and give a too harsh squeeze. It probably hurts, but he doesn’t wince or try to jerk away. He just keeps on scowling at me like I’m an errant agent on the cusp of breaking the rules right in front of him.
“Yeah, no need to get into a tizzy over it,” I say acerbically. “Your threadbare morality lines can remain unblurred this time. I’m eighteen, okay?”
“I think the fact your age still has the word ‘teen’ in it does, in fact, mean that some morality lines are getting smeared here,” Aaron mutters, but he sounds more droll than perturbed by it, which I take as a positive that I will actually be getting off with him at some point tonight.
“Does this mean I get to suck your cock now, or do you want to go through the other sections of my employee profile first?” I ask, making no attempt to hide my belligerence.
Aaron lets go of my chin and answers by sliding his fingers back into my hair and tugging me forward, using his other hand to stroke over his cock, still miraculously hard, holding the base and offering it to me with his eyebrows raised. There’s achallenge on his face now, one that shouts loud and clear,show me what you got, kid.
Thing is, I’ve been rising to meet challenges my whole life, incensed into defying expectations and shooting farther and faster and better than anyone else around me if only so I can spit in the face of whoever doubted that I could.
It’s this mentality that provokes me into taking Aaron’s cock to the back of my throat on the first go, suppressing my gag reflex so I won’t choke. Not yet. He hasn’t earned it.
Aaron’s composure cracks, his head thrown back and his mouth dropping open, a groan bursting free, loud and primal, torn from somewhere deep inside the cavern of his chest.
I smile around him, smug, holding his cock there inside my throat for a few more seconds before pulling off, my lips forming a tight O that drags over him, evoking another noise from Aaron, this one more a gritted curse but still just as satisfying to hear.
Aaron fists one hand in my hair again, fingers clenched viciously enough to elicit tiny electric shocks of pain along my scalp and the other around the back of my neck, squeezing me there. At first, I think it’s in admonishment for playing with him so blatantly, but from the steady flame of desire burning in his eyes, I realise it’s more about reassurance. It’s a squeeze that saysgood boymore emphatically than any verbalisation of the same.
I drag my mouth up and down Aaron’s girthy length, his cock hot and pulsing along my tongue, working him over, elation hitting my system like a drug every time he squeezes the back of my neck in silent praise. He sucks in sharp, quick breaths when I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, tasting his pre-cum, lapping it up and smearing it across my lips like it’s my reward for a job well-done.
Aaron lets me take hold of his hips and hold them down, pinning him to the sofa so he can’t jerk his hips and fuck mymouth. In other circumstances, I might allow it, but something tells me I’ll get a better response by denying Aaron than giving it all up to him.
“You littleshit,” Aaron groans when I dig my fingers into his hips, nails catching on coarse fabric and flushed skin.
He tries to buck out of my hold, but I grip tight, using my superhuman strength to keep him in place. At the same time, I swallow his cock again, right down my throat, trapping him with my teeth grazing the base of his length and humming around him, triggering a sensual vibration that has Aaron gasping above me and squeezing the back of my neck so roughly I can already feel the bruises forming.
My cock is hard and aching for stimulation, for the pure bliss of release, my heart thundering out a static beat inside my chest like it’s been supercharged by a car battery and set to a thousand volts. If I’m not careful, I feel like I could burn out, acid bursting from lead and filling my heart with toxic chemicals.
Breathing through my nose, I look up at Aaron, locking eyes with the other man and letting him see how much this is affecting me too. We hold eye contact for what is probably only a few a seconds in reality, but it seems like it could be hours, the tension ratcheting up higher and higher until it feels almost suffocating.
Aaron loosens his grip on my hair and gently runs his fingers through it instead, his nails lightly scratching over my scalp, each drag of his fingers careful and reverent as if he’s praising me without words again. His oddly tender gesture throws me into a tailspin, confusion giving way to a bizarre form of panic. This isn’t what I expected from him, not now, not with me on my knees and poking him, teasing him in a way that usually pisses people off. I’ve gotten my fair share of smacks to the mouth from men and women alike for pulling this shit.
I take my mouth off Aaron’s cock, breaking our stare off when the soft look in his eyes becomes too much to handle. It’s overwhelming to be the focus of this much sweetness, a thing I’ve rarely experienced and couldn’t possibly claim to deserve, a reminder that leads to anger, at him and myself, for allowing it, pushing me to bite and hiss and spit, to make him regret showing me his weakness.
As if reading my desperation—to get away, to be touched, to steal more of his imperfect affection, to let it fill me up, breath it into my lungs until I drown in it—Aaron palms my jaw and coaxes me into looking up at him again.
Some of the softness, the tender ache that should have no place between us, has been wiped away from his face, which is both a relief and a disappointment. But it makes it easier to push down the urge to destroy and lay waste to whatever we’ve been building up until now.
“Do you want to fuck me, Rohan?” Aaron asks, guileless and raw, watching me with heat in his eyes, want clawing to the surface with flaming talons to rip apart the dark and set the gold aglow.
Another unexpected turn. I’ve been around sex for a long time, longer than I think someone like Aaron would find morally digestible, which means I know that just because Aaron is a big man with a domineering personality doesn’t necessarily equal a preference for being the one doing the fucking. But I did suspect that was where this particular encounter was heading, so this is a surprise. Thankfully not a bad one.
“Yes,” I say, a little hoarse from deep throating his cock, “I fucking would, actually, thanks for asking.”
Aaron tips his head back a little and laughs, but it isn’t a mean laugh, it’s genuine and husky, worn from lack of use. There’s something close to happiness on his face, in the lines and shadows that curve around his ridiculously attractive features,that has my chest clenching at how stunningly beautiful it is. It’s a good thing he doesn’t laugh very much, really, because I don’t need that kind of temptation infecting my daily life.
