I can’t let this continue.
Yet, as soon as she’s reaching for my underwear, I don’t stop her. I’m a weak man, apparently.
Cool air hits my flushed skin as she frees my cock. I watch her take in every swollen inch, but she barely shows her thoughts on her face.
“Why?” Forcing the word out, my brows pinch together as her hand curls around the base. Hissing through my teeth, she purposely uses her thumb to touch my balls. “You hate me.”
“You hate me. So, why are you like this?” Meeting my question with one of her own, I click my tongue. Touche.
Running a hand down my face, I shake my head and decide to just fuck it. The woman is curious about me? Fine. Might as well get something out of it, too.
“You can touch me.” Giving her a crooked smile, I stare at her fingers as she barely does anything. “Must be boring just staring.”
Her mouth parts, but she doesn’t speak. As her brows furrow and unfurrow, she actually does it. Her fingers squeeze firmer around my cock. I don’t even have to mention a handjob; she does whatever the hell she wants.
Just like she always does. Always reckless, and now more dangerous with curiosity involved.
She’s messy with it, squeezing too tight, jerking too fast. Like she’s never given one, she does what she thinks she’s supposed to. It’s almost funny discovering something she’s bad at.
At this rate, I’m going to come whether I want to or not.
“Jesus, Raven.” Tilting my head back, my fingers curl around her blankets. “I pity any man you’ve been with. You like torturing them, huh?”
She pauses long enough to catch my attention. To my surprise, her cheeks turn rosy. She’s… blushing.
My cock pulses beneath her fingertips.
“Tell me what to do.” Frowning, she meets my gaze with a heat I usually am met with when she’s ready to kill me.
Am I really about to walk this woman through how to give a decent handjob? With the determination burning behind her stare, and her unmoving body, I think that’s exactly what’s about to go down.
This is crazy.
“Loosen your grip for starters and slow the hell down. It’s not a race.” Choking back a laugh, I pinch my eyes shut and remind myself this is really happening. “It doesn’t feel great when it’s dry. Do you have lube or—”
My words catch when a heat washes over my cock. Looking down at her, I stare at her glossy lips as a few drops of saliva still cling to them after spitting on her hand.
“Fuck.” Muttering my surprise, I clear my throat. “Sure, that works.”
She doesn’t wait to take my advice. Doing as I say, she starts to stroke slowly. From base to tip, her thumb runs against my slit each time a pearl of precum builds.
This woman took my insult to heart, and now, I’m suffering for it. Instead of making me feel pain, she’s making me feelgood.
Just like that, I realize I’m at this woman’s mercy. If she realizes the power that comes with pleasure, I’m fucking screwed.
She doesn’t stop. She reads the tension in my body, the strangled groan, and she leans into it, her strokes becoming relentless, perfect.
I’m a lover of dirty talk, but I don’t think I can muster the words, and Raven’s paying too close attention to what’s going on. Like she’s never touched a cock, it feels like she’s treating this like some kind of experiment.
She finally finds it. A rhythm. Her palm softens, her grip perfects, a smooth glide that has my head falling back as I realize I’m enjoying this more than I should.
A pleasure like this is lethal. So good, a man can get addicted to it.
What if I ask her to put her mouth on me? Always using her tongue to insult me, what if she found another way to make use of it? Just a little kiss would be enough.
I make things so much worse for myself by imagining it.Somuch worse.
“Faster now.” Panting the order, my cock swells in approval as she tightens her grip. I can’t scold her, not when it feels so good.
