“Fuck,” Moon mutters, looking up at me. “You like being tied up, Mark?”
I exhale through my nose, jaw tight. “Apparently.”
And I’ve got a strong feeling that if he doesn’t untie me soon, I’m going to lose it—because every time he touches me, I shudder, and I’m already so hard it fucking hurts.
Moon smirks again—smug, dangerous. He slides up along my body until his face is level with mine, but instead of kissing me on the lips, he dips lower—mouth dragging over my jaw, then down, biting lightly just under my ear before kissing a slow line along my neck and chest.
Then he pauses and looks up, watching my reaction. I’m breathing hard, vision hazy from how turned on I am. And all I can think is—I thought this guy needed slow lovemaking. But no. What he needs is to get fucked. Hard enough to forget his own name, until the only thing he remembers is how to scream mine.
“You’re not gonna be able to touch me,” he murmurs, ghosting his lips over my stomach. “Think you can handle that?”
“I’ll manage,” I grit out.
He laughs, then presses an open-mouthed kiss to my belly, his tongue dipping into my navel before dragging along the line of hair that disappears into my boxers.
I curse for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, barely stopping myself from bucking off the bed. I want to tear this fucking belt, flip him over, and wreck him—but it’s so damn tight, I’m more likely to rip the bed plank off with it instead.
Finally, Moon slides my boxers off, and the second I’m bare—my cock out, bobbing right near his face—he exhales, like he wasn’t ready for what he’s seeing.
“Fuck me,” he murmurs, eyes locked on it. “This thing looks dangerous.”
“You can untie me and I’ll show you how to use it,” I rasp, voice hoarse.
Moon chuckles, then wraps a hand around the base, guiding my cock to his lips.
“I think I’ll figure it out,” he says, before flicking his tongue out to lap up the pre-cum at the tip.
The pleasure from that—just that—makes my hips jerk up instinctively, but Moon plants a firm hand on my stomach, pinning me down.
“So impatient,” he says. Then he leans in again.
This time he doesn’t tease. Doesn’t drag it out. He just wraps his mouth around me and takes me deep. The hot, velvety slickness of his throat pulls me in so hard I let out a guttural moan.
His tongue moves a little clumsily as he sucks, but fuck, just seeing him like this—swallowing me down—drives me insane.
He takes me too deep, pulls off choking, catches his breath, then goes right back down. The suction is unreal.
I yank at the belt, and it bites into my wrists.
“Jesus, Sawyer…” I mutter, wanting to stop him, tell him to slow down—but then he hums around me, and the vibration knocks another curse out of me.
I groan, head falling back against the headboard.
He bobs his head, saliva slicking everything as he works me faster—messy, determined. The sounds—wet, breathless, greedy—are downright obscene.
I don’t last long. I can’t—not with him like this, on his knees, hair falling in his face, his mouth stretched around my cock, one hand rubbing the base in quick, tight strokes.
“Fuck—stop, I’m gonna come—” I choke out, but he doesn’t. He just looks up at me, eyes dark, and sucks me deeper, working me harder.
I try to hold on, to push back the dizzy, overwhelming pleasure—but it’s no use. I come with a choked moan, my whole body tensing, straining helplessly against the belt.
He takes it all, swallowing every last fucking drop, and only pulls off once I’ve stopped shaking.
I look down, still breathing hard—and the sight of him wrecked, lips puffed, eyes glazed and blown wide—is enough to send another jolt of arousal through me, even though I just came.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smirks up at me. “You okay, Woods?”
It takes me a few seconds to find my voice. I suck in air, chest still heaving, then rasp, “Uh-huh.”
