Page 19 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

His hand moves to the laces of my leathers and starts working them loose.

The laces come free. Cool air hits heated skin as he pushes the fabric down my hips.

“Gods,” he breathes. “Look at you.”

I can’t look at anything. The blindfold sees to that. But I can feel his gaze, heavy and intent.

No, no, no... Please gods.

This is not fucking happening.

My cock is fully erect.

There’s no barrier now. His hand wraps around me properly and I choke on air.

“That’s better.” His grip tightens. “I want to hear every sound you make.”

He strokes once, slow from root to tip. I nearly bite through my tongue.

“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“Shut up.”

“Why? Does it embarrass you?” His thumb swipes across the head, gathering wetness. “Knowing how hard you are for me? How much you want this?”

“I don’t—” I gasp when his hand tugs on my length.

“You’re dripping, Wolf.” His voice drops lower. “Your body knows what it wants even if your mouth sings a different tune.”

Heat floods my face. Shame and arousal tangled together until I can’t separate them.

Then his hand disappears.

The sudden loss of contact makes me bite back a sound. I’m still hard and aching. The need pulses through me so intense it borders on pain. Everything below my waist throbs with unsatisfied want.

No. Don’t leave. Don’t stop.

Terror mixes with the arousal. Is he going to leave me like this? Hanging here desperate and needing and—

The pressure is unbearable. I need release so badly it hurts, a deep ache settling in my balls.

A whisper of breath against my neck. Garrett is right behind me. His hand wraps around my cock from behind. I try to back away from the touch, but I hit his chest instead. I’m trapped with nowhere to go.

“Easy,” he murmurs against my ear.

His hand starts moving torturously slow, building the pleasure up stroke by stroke until I’m trembling. Then he paces faster. My breath comes in pants. I’m close, so close—

The rhythm suddenly slows right before I could come…

I breathe in sharply. It’s not fair. I was so close…

The ache settles deep and painful. I feel the need coiling tight in my gut. Then his hand starts moving again, stroking and building. I close my eyes from behind the blindfold and fall into the rhythm. I’m sure this time I’ll come—then he stops.

“No—please—”

“Shh,” he whispers, giving me another slow stroke. “Not yet.”

It happens again. He’s building me up until I’m shaking, desperate, then pulling back just before I break.