See? I told him practice makes it perfect.
I glance down and watch my dick disappear into his mouth. I nearly close my legs from the pressure, but he grabs my thighs and keeps them spread, likeno, you’re staying right here.
His head starts moving, up and down, on my dick. A moan punches right out of my chest without permission. My handfinds his hair and pushes it back, sweeping it away from his face. He looks too fucking pretty to be hidden right now. I keep my hand there, and yeah, maybe I give him a little extra push. My head falls back against the couch. I squeeze my eyes. I want to grab his face and fuck into his mouth more. He looks so fucking good like that. Lips wrapped around me. Green eyes up. Shit.
His hands are still on my thighs, grounding me while his mouth moves up, down, grinding at the base, then back up again with a twist of his tongue that makes me literally groan.
His cheeks are red. Lips perfectly swollen around my dick. And he doesn’t break eye contact, not once. This can’t be real. I feel his hand sliding. Finding mine. He’s unreal.
My free hand is locked on the top of his head, trying not to push and fuck into that perfect mouth. He’s not even mine yet. He’s everything and nothing at the same time. He’s not my official boyfriend. And I already want to make him my fucking husband. Because there’s no way in fucking hell I’m letting him do these things to someone else. Giving them that look.Ever.
My thighs are trembling, my hands gripping his hair harder. I’m so fucking close. My mouth falls open. I can’t breathe.
"Rava," I groan. "Please don’t fucking stop, I’m—"
And then he pulls off. Just like that. Gone.
"What the hell—"
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like the little demon he is. "I told you. I would get my revenge." That motherfucker just sits back and smirks at me.
"No, you did not just—" I start, breathless. He keeps grinning as he reaches for my zipper and starts pulling it up, nice and slow, like a goddamn tease.
"Hey. Hey. HEY!"
I yell, swatting his hands, but he just laughs harder, buttoning my jeans. "NO! No no no Rava don’t you dare—"
But he’s already standing up, backing away with that wicked grin on his face. That asshole knows exactly what he did. "Oh you little—" I scramble up, fumbling with my zipper, chasing after him while still half-closing my damn pants.
"Get back here you dickhead, I thought you loved me!" He darts toward the hallway, and before I can even fully process it, he flings open the nearest door.
The garage.
The door slams behind him as he disappears inside. I hear the key. The bastard locks the fucking door.
I catch up two seconds later, pounding on the door with my palm. "OPEN THE DOOR, YOU FUCKER!" From the other side, I hear him laughing. Then his voice, mocking, pure evil.
"Oh nooo…horny Gio is going to end me!"
I can’t help but laugh, my forehead pressing against the door for a second, still painfully hard. "Okay. Alright. You wanna play? Fine."
I sprint toward my room.
I yank open the drawer, grab the second key. I turn, fast. I almost trip over my own feet, stumbling sideways like a drunk idiot. Catch myself on the wall.
I grab the lube bottle and some paper towels off the desk.
The guy is getting his guts rearranged.
The garage door stands in front of me. I press my ear against it. Nothing but my own breathing at first.
"Where are you?" I ask with an innocent voice, calm, already knowing he can hear the grin behind my words.
"On your bike," he calls back casually. "I’m scratching it as we speak."
That little shit.
I exhale a dry laugh, shaking my head as I slide the key into the lock. "Big mistake, Ravioli." I turn it.
