His cock pulses in my grip,
leaking in my hand.
I stroke him slower now, cruel.
And he shudders.
His head falls into me,
forehead branding mine, eyes squeezing shut.
He’s shaking, like he can’t take it,
the shock still breaking through his system.
His breath burns against my lips.
He’s helpless. Completely gone.
His hand slips out from between my thighs,
and he grips my waist.
Like if he lets go, we’re both going down.
And then his head lifts.
He catches my gaze,
looking at me through wasted, drugged eyes.
His pupils blown, his breath destroyed.
And a single tear slides down his temple.
AndGod, he’s shaken and beautiful.
The red glow of theexitsign washes over his cheek, cuts into his jaw. He’s looking at me like he just gave himself up.
Then he feels the tear slipping down the edge of his face.
I can see it dawn in his eyes?—
and then thefuck.
He shifts,
trying to pull away without pulling away.
His hand never leaves my waist.
Or the back of my neck.
He tilts his head back, eyes blink up.
As if staring at the ceiling will undo it.
But it won’t.
