His eyes blaze at me. “I know that.”
“Won’t stop me saying it again. Andthiscan stop, anytime you want.”
He doesn’t want to stop. Even if I couldn’t see the raw mess I’ve made of him so far, I feel it in him. And I love it, this slow march to oblivion. The parts of him he’s letting me see. The reminder there’s more to sex than getting off and whose dick goes where.
This is sex.
My mouth on his skin and his fingers digging into mine.
My hand wrapped around his jaw.
The knife edge we both balance on before he nods and reaches formygoddamn underwear.
He slides them over my hips, pushing them down, using his foot to free my legs. Only then does he allow himself to drag his gaze up to look at me.
At my dick.
He wets his lips, but I don’t give him long to overthink it. I strip his underwear too, leaving him bare, and then it’smewho needs a moment as I drink him in. I’m no size queen, but Sab’s cock is fecking beautiful.
Hard.
Heavy.
Thick.
I’m ruined just looking at him, and the need to touch him consumes me.
He’s still on his back. I settle to the side and let my fingertips trace the line of him, watching him jolt as if I’ve shocked him.
Easy.
But I don’t let the murmur fly free. I curl my fingers, ghosting around his length with enough pressure to make him groan and strain for more. To speak fervent French words that make my own cock ache with need.
I wrap my hand around him for real, trying not to carve a hole in his hip. Up the pressure and Sab’s whole body bows from the couch.
“Putain.” His hand flies to my arm. “You’re going to make me come.”
“I know. But not yet.”
He doesn’t believe me, I can tell. But he gives in to the slow climb I take him on, sounds that are half moan, half prayer slipping from him every other breath, still clutching my arm as if I’m tethering him to his entire existence.
He’s so hot and rigid in my fist. So responsive and beautiful. As much as I’m living to see him come apart, I don’t want this to be over.
So I long it out, edging him until he’s sweating and panting, and I’m so wound up I’m a heartbeat from sayingfuck itand riding that big dick. A heartbeat that pulses out of reach as his thighs fall open and draw me in as if we’re already fucking, and other subtle cues take root in my brain.
I change the pace, testing the loose theory.Slowingto a rhythm that has to be maddening for him.
Sab moans and screws his eyes shut, every limb trembling, his whole body pleading formore. But he doesn’t take it for himself. Hewaits, trusting me to give him what he needs, as if he already knows how good surrender feels, and he’s so gorgeous like this, the need to see him shatter gains new wings.
I bring him to the edge again, sliding my free hand behind his head to hold him there. To sink my teeth into his throat as he tumbles over the abyss.
He finally breaks, and it’s wild.
Messy.
Violent, almost, with his head thrown back, trembling as he spills hot and wet over my hand, a raw sound scraping from his lungs.
“Merde.” Sab gasps for breath, body still jerking as I work him through every last shock and pulse. “I’m fucking dead. Tu m’as tué.”
