He climbs back up, straddling me again, and leans in to kiss me—sloppy, open-mouthed, tasting like me. The tang hits my tongue and sets off a hot, possessive pull low in my gut. After what he just did to me, I want to get him back. Make him squirm.
“Untie me,” I say, voice low.
But he shakes his head. “I’m not done yet.”
Then he leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“I want you inside me,” he whispers, and I shiver. “Can I ride you, Mark?”
I nod, cheeks burning. “Yeah…but I’ll need, like, ten minutes.”
“Okay,” he says, then bites my neck again—harder this time, sucking, definitely leaving a mark. I feel him grinding against my stomach, his cock hot and hard through his briefs.
I lift an eyebrow at him, then jerk my chin toward it. “You want help with that?”
“Do you have lube?” Moon asks, ignoring the question.
“Top drawer,” I tell him, nodding at the nightstand. “Condoms are there too.”
He leans over, grabs both, and straddles me again. Then he strips off his briefs, freeing his flushed, rock-hard cock. I can’t stop staring.
For a second, I think about asking him to fuck my mouth while I’m still tied up—but then he does something that completely knocks the air out of me.
He squirts a generous dollop of lube onto his fingers, then shifts back on his heels until he’s sitting on the bed, knees bent—his pink hole exposed like he wants me to lose my mind.
He brings one slick finger to his hole, circles it once, eyes locked on mine, putting on a show just for me. I groan as he presses in, breaching the tight muscle, and watch his finger disappear. He starts working it slowly, moaning as he fucks himself, eyes still on me—because he knows exactly what he’s doing.
I pull against the belt, my cock already twitching again. “Untie me, and I’ll help you with that,” I say—but he just moans louder and pushes in a second finger. He shifts his weight, rolling his hips forward, easing into the stretch.
“Mark—fuck, Mark,” he gasps, voice wrecked. And the sight of him fingerfucking himself open, while moaning my name, makes me feral.
He slides his fingers deeper, breath catching now—and yeah, it’s definitely not just for my benefit. He’s getting off on it too, rocking on his hand, chanting my name.
“Mark. Mark. Mark…”
My cock’s hard in seconds, pressing up against his back—and he feels it. He pulls his fingers out, wipes his hand on the bedding, and grabs a condom. Then he shifts back on my legs, reaches for my cock, and smirks—eyes half-lidded.
“Yeah, I thought you might like that,” he says, meeting my eyes. “Can I?”
I nod. He tears the foil, rolls the condom on, and slicks me up with lube.
Then he rises onto his knees, reaches behind himself, and aligns my cock with his entrance.
When he starts to sink down, the stretch around the head is so tight he freezes—eyes fluttering shut, mouth parting in a silent gasp.
“You’re not stretched enough,” I tell him. “Let me help you.”
But he just shakes his head. “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”
We stay like that, still, while he catches his breath. His chest rises and falls, thighs trembling where they’re pressed to mine. Then he sinks down a little further—freezes again—and finally takes me to the hilt.
Both of us groan at the tight stretch.
“Fuck,” I breathe, already dizzy. “Fuck, Sawyer.”
He steadies himself, hands flat on my chest, jaw tight.
I lean forward and kiss him, trying to help him relax—because I still can’t touch his cock. I lick at his lips, then slide my tongue in, brushing against his until he gasps again.
