“Fuck,” I exhaled. My knuckles were white in the sheet. “Soren. Don't stop.”
He hummed in acknowledgement and the vibration went through me like a live wire. My hips tried to roll up and he pressed them back down with one forearm, not harsh, just immovable, and the reminder that he was controlling the pace made my cock pulse in his mouth.
“Please,” I said again, and I didn't even recognise my own voice. “Harder.”
He gave me harder. His head dropped and he took me deeper, and I felt the back of his throat and had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from making a noise that would embarrass me. His free hand moved to cup me underneath, rolling slow and deliberate, and the combination of sensationswas so precise it was like he'd mapped out exactly what would break me down and was working through it methodically.
“You're—” My voice cut out. I swallowed and tried again. “You're incredible. You know that?”
I was already close, which was humiliating given how long he'd drawn this out, but my body hadn't consulted my pride before deciding we were done holding back. I could feel the orgasm building in slow, insistent waves, pulling tighter with every stroke of his tongue.
“I'm close.” I forced the words out. “I'm not going to last.”
He pulled off. I made an involuntary sound that I was going to spend the rest of my life pretending hadn't happened.
“Don't want you to last,” he said, and his voice had gone rough in ways that told me he was just as affected as I was, regardless of how controlled he looked. “Want to make you come so hard you can't think straight.” He pressed a deliberate kiss to the tip of my cock and looked up at me. “Tell me what it feels like.”
“What?”
“I want to hear it.” He stroked me once with his fist, watching my face.
I pulled at the sheet. “Like I've been trying to hold back a tide and I'm about to lose.”
“Then let it lose,” he said. “Let go. I've got you.”
He took me in again and this time he didn't tease, didn't pace it, just moved with focused intensity that had my thighs shaking within thirty seconds. I stopped trying to hold back and I stopped trying to stay quiet and I let it happen, and the sound that came out of me when I finally came was low and rough and completely beyond my control.
He kept me in his mouth through all of it, swallowing around me, and the sensation was so overwhelming I had to grip the headboard and feel the frame rattle hard against the wall. Heworked me through it until I was shaking and oversensitive and had completely lost track of my own edges, everything blurring into heat and his hands on my thighs and the slow, careful drag of him releasing me.
He crawled up my body and I pulled him down and kissed him hard, tasting myself on his mouth, feeling his exhale against my lips.
“Still thinking straight?” he asked.
“Barely.” I rolled him onto his back and felt him go willingly, which was its own kind of power — watching him, who'd been so deliberate and controlled a minute ago, soften and open up now that the attention was shifting. He was flushed from his chest up, hair wrecked, and he was looking at me with an expression that was trying hard to be casual and failing completely.
“Your turn,” I said.
“I mean, you don't have to—” he started.
“Soren.” I said his name the same way he'd said mine. Flat. Final. “Shut up.”
He shut up.
I put my mouth to the line of his jaw and felt his pulse jump under his skin.
“Tell me what you want,” I said against his throat.
He laughed, a bit unsteady. “You're going to use that against me.”
“Obviously.” I worked down to his collarbone. His hand came up to grip my shoulder and I let him have it. “Tell me.”
“Your hands,” he said. The joking edge was gone. “I want your hands on me.”
I gave him that. Wrapped one hand around his cock and watched his head tip back, the long line of his throat going taut. He made a sound like I'd knocked the air out of him, and that sound did something to my chest I was going to need to think about later.
“Good?” I asked.
“Don't ask stupid questions,” he said, which was a yes.
