Page 94 of Our Final Game

“Whatever it is, you better hurry the fuck up.”

“And for that, now I think you should prep yourself. I’ll sit right here.”

“Wait, no,” Rohan whines as I make my way around the desk and take a seat. He turns his body toward me on top of the table, spreading his legs back open for a perfect view of his hole.

“Can’t you do it for me, please?” He pouts.

“No, I wanna see you. Besides, you’ve not been a good boy.”

“I’ll be better, I promise,” Rohan says, grazing my chest with his foot.

“You missed your chance, kitten. Now let me see before I change my mind and make you fuck yourself too.”

“Alright, fine, give me the lube,” he huffs.

“Is that an attitude I hear?”

“No,” Rohan says, trying to sound a little more chipper. I open the drawer and hand him the tube. He sticks his bottom lip out once more, probably hoping it’ll change my mind, but I don’t give in.

Rohan swallows, lying back, as he slicks his pretty fingers and starts to loosen himself up. The sight makes me want to bury myself so deep inside him that he feels it for the next week. I bite my lip as I watch his head dip back, his curls falling away from his face. He’s in pure ecstasy all of his own doing.

It’s almost making me jealous that it’s not because of me instead.

“I might cum … just like this with you watching me, daddy,” Rohan pants, his chest flushed and heaving.

“Alright. That’s enough,” I say, knowing he’s got the best of me, but I don’t give a fuck right now. I stand up and slap his hand away, positioning my dick at his wet hole. Every time I fuck Rohan, his body reacts as if it’s the first time, and this time is no different. He lets out the filthiest moan when I fully seat myself inside him on the first thrust. He loves when it hurts a little.

I pull him across the surface by his thighs until he’s flush against my hips, making sure there’s no space between us before I start snapping into him.

“It’s so deep! Fuck, Ty!” Rohan cries out, trying to shift his weight a bit.

“Don’t move. Take it,” I say, holding him in a vice grip.

His back arches off the desk when I hit that spot I’ve been looking for. I can’t get enough of him; the room feels overwhelmingly hot. Rohan reaches down between his legs and starts to stroke himself, his head lolling side to side.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” I grunt, slowing my strokes.

“No, no, please don’t stop. Can I touch myself, Daddy?” Rohan pleads and digs his nails into my forearm.

I stare down at him; he looks wrecked. His curls stick to his forehead from sweating, and his pupils are blown so fucking wide.

Poor thing.

“Only because you look so fucking gone right now, kitten,” I chuckle. He glares at me a little, but I let it slide and give him what he’s begging for.

He only lasts a few more thrusts before his walls are throbbing around me and he’s cumming uncontrollably, painting his own torso. What a pretty mess. Rohan fills the room with chants of my name as I plunge into his overstimulated hole. That alone sends me over the edge, and I fill him until my thrusts start pushing the cum out. Reluctantly, I pull out and watch the mess drip between his thighs.

“I’m all sticky now,” Rohan whines breathlessly.

“Whose fault is that?” I laugh, looking through the drawer briefly before cleaning him off with napkins from lunch.

“Yours,” Rohan says, watching me.

He’s still lying back on the hard desk when I pick him up, carry him to the couch, and I lay us down. He snuggles into my chest, getting comfortable.

“Right,” I say, looking down at him. I feel like I always find something new to love about him every time I see him this close up.

“You know they say wherever you have beauty marks are places your past lover kissed you most.” I push a curl away from his eye.