I swallow and guide my sight down to where his feet are clenched tight, the digits drawn in on themselves.
“You’re shaking, bub.” The words are so busted up and cracked that my sight shoots up to brown eyes with blown pupils.
His jaw is clenched. His eyes hooded.
That burning in my throat intensifies.
“I want to,” I say on a weak whisper and blink back the itch in my eyes.
“Onlyif you want to.”
My breath catches.
He can’t mean that … can he?
“You’re in control, Em,” Hatley adds.
That’s not true. I’m taking orders like a good little—
“Emmett,” Tristen rasps and licks his lips. “You’re in control. Do what you want.”
A shiver racks down my spine so violently, it dislodges my hand.
He’s just trying to be nice. It doesn’t mean anything.
But does it have to mean anything?
I’m panting as I hover a hand over his sac, the warmth of it nearly burning me. I’m damn near hyperventilating when I cup them.
My breathing stops all together when Tristen lets out a choked gasp.
It’s a deep sound. Like maybe what I’ve done feels good.
“That’s the shit right there,” Hatley mumbles but I can barely hear him over the rushing in my ears.
I’m touching Tristen’s balls … I’m holding another guy's balls …
Throat dry, I swallow hard enough that it clicks.
My stomach flips when I roll them in my palm, the weight heavier than I thought they’d be.
Tristen’s caged groan makes something inside me tingle, and I gasp.
“Em,” he says on a rumble that makes that tingling spread. “Please.”
I grow hot all over, a sweat prickling at my skin beneath the hoodie.
“I-I …”
“Grab his dick, Emmett,” Hatley instructs, his soft command breaking through the pulse in my ears and Tristen’s length flexes.
My stomach tightens.
“Ffffuck, I need to come,” he groans out, his balls drawing up tight in my hand. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. But I need to. P-please, Em.”
Something deep in the core of me twists up and I lean back, silently releasing Tristen.
He immediately wraps his hand around himself, his muscles gone taut as he wildly jerks his length.
