Page 20 of Compulsion

“No!”

Like the first night, just as his climax was beating a path to escape, he tugged at my head, trying to pull me away. Tonight, though, I wasn’t going to take it like that. Perhaps I was getting bored with the whole submissive thing. I growled in my throat, tightening my lips on his cock. I resisted him.

“Max!” He faltered, maybe nervous that if he pulled too hard, my teeth would scrape a deep and angry passage all the way up that very, very sensitive flesh. I continued my sucking because I wanted to taste him. I really wanted to.

“Fuck it, wait….”

I could feel him struggling with the need to climax, the rising ecstasy. He tried to slap my head away, but I caught his hand and gripped him by the wrist. I pressed his arm back against the window so he was trapped on both sides. And still I savored him. “You want me to fight you?” I murmured into the soft skin around his dick, dragging it up over his slit then peeling it back down with my lips. “Is that what you want?”

“You have to stop….” But his hips bucked up into me regardless.

“I don’t have to do anything just because you say so. I want to swallow it, Seve.” I rolled my tongue around the rim of the head, my voice muffled by my mouthful but the words as clear as I could make them. “I want to swallow you.”

When I glanced up, he looked shocked. “That’s not what hap—oh fuck!”

I spat more saliva out to ease the way and I tightened my mouth. His cock jerked. It was reaching for my throat, I could feel it. I remembered someone telling me once I gave really good head. “No one ever did this for you, Seve? No one ever tasted you? Swallowed you?”

His silence was enough answer. Damned if I won’t enjoy being your first. And then he gasped and the flood came. His hips crushed me up against the steering column, his fingers dug into my scalp, and he keened his essence out into my mouth, pumping again and again, hot and sharp tasting and richly thick.

Shit, but I also remembered how good come tasted!

Chapter Ten

FOR the next few moments, things were awkward. Seve lay back on his seat, gasping for breath, the aftershocks still shuddering through him. I licked at his softening cock for a while, and then I levered myself back over onto my seat. I wiped my mouth carefully and teased out a thin hair stuck on my lower lip. I relaxed back as well, aware of the pressure of my own hard-on. Neither of us spoke. The only sound was our panting and the thrum of rain on the car. The air felt tense, as if it were shrinking in on itself.

Something had changed in the balance of things. Perhaps because I’d snatched control from him at the last minute? Perhaps because I’d done something for him no one else ever had? No, I was kidding myself. More likely it was because I’d pissed him off. I was meant to be the bottom in all this—to do what I was allowed, what I was told. Wasn’t that how it’d been so far? But now we were stuck out here together, and if either of us was unhappy with it, well, what would we do? I, for one, didn’t know where the hell I was.

And perhaps I just thought too much.

I flipped the button and zip of my jeans and slipped a hand inside. I wanted to touch my swollen cock. Yeah, I wanted Seve, but above all, I wanted the friction. I gasped with relief and started to rub myself up and down as teasingly and as slowly as I could stand. My eyes were half-closed with the relief, but I knew Seve was watching me. In the shadows of the car interior, he rolled over and braced himself on one arm, looking down on me.

“Seve,” I murmured. His name sounded good on my lips.

“Take them off,” he whispered. “Keep touching yourself, but take the jeans off.”

It was a challenge, but I somehow managed to wriggle the jeans and boxers down my legs and to pull one foot out. I could move more freely now. I stretched out on the seat, then bent the leg nearest the window at the knee, and arranged myself in a better grip. The windows were steaming up nicely, and I was panting heavily again as I worked myself toward completion. The car rocked underneath me.

“Going to come soon.” I sighed. “You just going to watch?”

“No,” came the whispered reply. He seemed to have recovered his composure. Possibly his libido as well—I had no idea what sort of stamina he had. “Turn over, face toward the window. On your side.”

More wriggling until I lay on my side, watching the window, opaque with our lusty breath and spattered with channels of heavy rain. I kept pumping—I was leaking all over my hand, and the movement was slick and fast now. Then I felt Seve’s hand close over mine and I paused for a second.

“Keep going.” His mouth was at my ear. He nipped at my lobe, and the sudden pain jarred with the increasing pleasure. He moved my hand aside, then ran his own up and down my length a couple of times, cupping his hand over my tip so that I gasped aloud with the sensation. Then I realized what he was doing—he was collecting the precome on his fingers. My heart nearly stopped with excited anticipation.

“Keep going, I said.”

I did. I wasn’t far off climax now. And then I felt it—Seve’s fingers up between my cheeks, ghosting at my hole and teasing the soft skin behind my balls. I strained to reach him, strained to receive him. His fingertip slid into me.

“Fuck. That’ll do it.” I groaned in extra emphasis. Even as he probed for my prostate, his palm flat against my skin and another finger seeking entrance, I felt the uncontrollable throb in my cock. The seed burst out over my belly and his hand, dripping onto the seat. I shuddered and moaned, and the car’s suspension bounced under me.

Seve’s soft chuckle tickled my ear.

Still moaning, I slid down from my climax. Calm returned to my spinning senses. But Seve was still fingering me. He’d dragged himself half off his seat and half into the space between us, which must have been damned uncomfortable. I dreaded to think where the gear stick was resting. His chest pressed against my back, and I could feel his thighs nudging hard against the backs of mine. Should I suggest moving into the backseat for anything more? I could feel the heat of him behind me now, the thick, solid column of his cock rubbing up against my arse. He must have pulled his own jeans down, because I couldn’t feel that nagging nuisance that was his zip. Just hot, firm flesh. He prised his knee in between my thighs, lifting my upper leg until it hung over his hip.

“Here?” I gasped.

“Now.” His voice was hoarse.