“Impatient, are we?” he murmurs like a secret, his voice rough with amusement. Then his hand wraps around the base of my cock in a slow and deliberate motion, and my entire body jolts.
“Ah,” I gasp, head falling back. He’s been teasing me since the moment his hands first touched me tonight, dragging mealong this edge so sweet it hurts. I didn’t know I could ache like this.
“So beautiful,” he whispers as he gives my thigh light kisses. His breath is warm, his words so sincere they crack something open in my chest. I feel wanted. My throat tightens, pressure building behind my eyes, but I blink it away. I won’t cry. Not tonight.
When his breath fans over the head of my cock, I tense, my whole body going still and tight. A sharp inhale catches in my lungs. I can’t help it. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until his gaze flickers up to mine. He looks at me like I’m something fragile, something precious, and the softness in his eyes melts the tension in my shoulders. I don’t know how, but it does.
“Tell me to stop if anything feels wrong, alright?” he says gently, grounded, like he means it.
I nod. It’s small, but it’s real. And I trust him.
Then his mouth presses the lightest kiss against the tip of cock—barely a touch, but it sends shivers racing through me. My hips twitch, instinctively and completely helpless, his hands tighten around them, grounding me, holding me still.
And then his tongue flicks out, just once, licking right across my slit.
Everything inside me short-circuits.
The jolt of pleasure is so sudden, so sharp, I can’t stop my body from jerking up. I slam a hand over my mouth, choking back the cry that almost tears out of me. My heart’s racing, blood pounding in my ears like a drum. I’ve never been touched like this. Never felt like this.
“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked and low like gravel, like sin. “You taste so good, Lucas… so fucking intoxicating.”
That’s the only warning I get before his mouth sinks over the head of my cock—hot, wet, heaven—and takes me all the wayin like it’s nothing. The sound that tears out of me doesn’t even feel human. My eyes roll back, a sharp gasp leaving my throat as white-hot bliss rips through me, flooding every nerve with fire.
His mouth is so warm, so soft, and wet. He works me slow, lips gliding along the length of me with unhurried hunger, tongue swirling around the head, licking up every drop like I’m something to savor.
He’s watching me. Watching me come apart for him, only him.
Eyes locked on mine, dark and full of something I can’t name. Something primal. It makes my stomach clench, makes my hips twitch, like I want to run from the intensity but also fall right into it.
“Please,” I whisper, breath catching, body trembling. “Please…”
I reach down with shaking hands, threading trembling fingers into his hair—not to guide, not to pull, just to hold on. To anchor myself in the middle of the storm that is him. To remind myself that this is real. That he is real.
He hums around me, deep and pleased, and the vibration nearly knocks the air out of my lungs, as my hips jerk upward before I can stop myself, but his strong hand presses firmly against my lower stomach, holding me down with ease and keeping me still.
His hand moves lower as he strokes my thigh, then his palms cup my sac and massage my balls with such careful pressure I choke on a moan, head falling back onto the pillow as my body arches.
It’s too much. The suction of his mouth, the wet drag of his tongue, the heavy heat of his hands on my balls. It’s overwhelming, it’s perfect, and it’s him. All of it is him.
The sounds spilling from me aren’t quiet anymore. I don’t care if I’m loud, if I’m needy. I want him to hear it. I want him to know how wrecked I am from his mouth alone.
“Alex—oh my… Alex,” I moan, voice cracking, breath shuddering. I’m babbling now, unable to stop the sounds tumbling from my throat. My whole body’s drawn tight, trembling with the oncoming rush of orgasm. My heart’s slamming like it’s trying to tear free from my chest.
Then his hand leaves my balls, and I barely have time to whimper before he trails lower until his fingers graze my hole. The breath that rips out of me is guttural and sharp, the contact is feather-light, and I feel myself cum a little.
His mouth leaves my cock with a slick pop, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse and soaked in hunger.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his fingers still rubbing against my hole, now circling it in a way that makes my cock jerk and spurt with more precum. I am going to explode soon, and I feel it deep in my balls.
I shake my head desperately, panting like I’m drowning. My hands fist into the sheets, knuckles white.
“No,” I rasp. “Don’t stop—please don’t stop.”
His eyes soften even as something feral glints in them. He leans in, brushing his lips over mine. It’s sweet, possessive, and feels intimate.
“Relax for me, beautiful,” he whispers, and the sound of it shoots straight through me. “Let me make you cum.”
His lips are on mine again, more demanding this time.
