The way he says blow job has my dick aching, but there’s that fucking name again.
“I didn’t say you’d be giving me one.”
His cheeks flush, and he slams the bowl of soup onto the rickety end table. It sloshes over the edge as he straddles me, his eyes flashing, his cheeks flaming.
“I’m not letting you give me a blow job either. I don’t want one.”
My gaze sneaks down to his pants. They’re tight in the crotch. I love how he thinks straddling me is going to make me believe he’s not interested. He’s a liar. A cute one, too.
He bares his teeth at me. “Stop looking at me.”
“Can’t help it. You’re on my lap. I’m naked, and you’re hard.”
“I’m not. It’s just my dick. It’sthatbig.”
That makes my lips twitch into a smile, and his do the same. Right before he shuts it down.
I continue to grin up at him. “Either way,yourdick inmymouth would go a long way to helping you relax. Look how wonderful last night was, and that was without touching.”
“Nothing happened last night.”
“Really?” I drawl. “We’re back to playing that game, are we?”
“There’s no game, and there are no blow jobs happening either.” He grabs the bowl of soup once more and spoons up some of the broth. He brings it up to my lips, and I suck on it, making him roll his eyes.
“Do you ever eat without sucking?”
“You’ll have to find out.”
That earns me a longer eye roll, one where his eyes stick to the ceiling for at least thirty seconds.
“I won’t be finding out anything.”
He feeds me more soup, and I eat it, swallowing as much as he can give me. And when the bowl is empty, he sets it down on the table and scrambles off my lap.
Then he’s at the stove, eating straight from the pot. I can see the strain in his shoulders and pants. He hasn’t forgotten my offer.
But it’s a logical one. It makes sense. He’s fed and cared for me. Watched me get off. Only makes sense to offer a nice reciprocal thank-you.
And Ialwaysreciprocate.
Ansel finishes off his food and rubs his stomach, turning to peek over at me. He looks like he’s coming unraveled.
I like that very much. I’d love seeing him unravel in my arms and around my cock.
“Seriously, stop staring at me,” he murmurs.
I don’t look away, just wet my lips and stay silent.Come and play, butterfly.
“Stop it. I mean it.”
When I don’t do as he asks, he stomps over and grabs something from his bag, and then ties it around my eyes.
A blindfold.
Just when I thought he couldn’t get more perfect.It only makes me more excited. I love this shit. Nothing better than taking away one sense to make the others stronger.
I can hear him breathing next to me, can almost hear his heart racing. He shifts slightly, his shoes scraping across the ground, and I sense his gaze on my cock.
