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“Really, but you need to tell me you want this, Tate. Use your words.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, falling silent and for a beat, I worried that he wouldn’t agree.

“Tate,” I pleaded. “Please, say it. Say you want this.”

“I want it,” he panted.

I was moving before the words even left his lips, hastening toward his bedroom and leaving… whatever remained in the living room behind. Tate took my mouth in another kiss, his tongue the one to prod for entry this time and damn when I allowed him in, jolts of electricity zapped across my skin.

I’d never been so turned on from simply touching another person. My cock throbbed painfully against my pants, infuriated at being ignored in favor of draping Tate across his bed. One of my hands supported his head, the other guided his legs out in front of him.

And then I took a step back, putting enough distance between us that meant I wouldn’t be able to touch him.

Tate whined, pushing onto his elbows to give me a look that practically begged for him when his words couldn’t. He gasped for air, eyes blown wide. His hips wriggled against the air, the tent in his pants borderline obscene. I crossed my arms over my chest, studying the outline of his erection like I’d be tested on it later.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, dropping a palm to his cock and pressing against it. “Why are you just standing there?”

“I’m admiring the view,” I admitted honestly. Mostly, I was trying to contain myself.

The only thing I wanted to do was drive myself into Tate’s ass until he couldn’t walk for a month, but I couldn’t do that. Not without hurting him.

Just as I’d forced him to agree to, I had to take things slow, which meant breaking the news to my dick that we wouldn’t be figuring out what Tate’s perky little ass felt like tonight.

“Undo your pants, Tate,” I instructed, voice thick and raspy from desire. “Show me what you do when you think about me at night.”

Like I hadn’t already seen it.

Tate was so desperate that he didn’t waste any time in tearing his pants open and shoving his hand inside. The moan that fell from his lips was filthy and erotic, making me clench my fists tighter to keep my hands to myself.

“You gonna help me out or stand there and watch?” Tate quipped.

I smirked. Oh, I had a plan for him. “I’m not laying a hand on you tonight, Tate.”

“What?” he puffed. “You show up here, get me so hard that I can’t even think straight, and then you’re just going to leave?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

Tate grimaced, tugged his hand free, and reached for his nightstand, only to gasp and jerk it away. “What did you just do?”

Instead of using my words, I raised my tail, letting it whip around my waist. Tate gasped, and froze in place.

“Hands behind your head,” I demanded.

Slowly, my human obeyed, folding his hands under his head. I took the single step to close the distance between us, and tugged his jeans and underwear down in one swift move. His cock sprang free and bounced against his stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precum behind. My mouth watered. Good. Tate liked it wet, after all.

I ran my tongue around my mouth, gathering as much of my saliva as I could before I leaned over and spat it right onto Tate’s pretty cock. It was long and thick, with a prominent vein running along the underside that throbbed when my spit fell onto it.

I repeated the motion, this time focusing on his soft cockhead, and the precum leaking from his slit.

Not trusting my legs to hold me upright any longer, I pulled Tate’s desk chair over and dropped into it. My tail was long enough to stretch across to the bed, thick as a whip and much more powerful. Tate watched with rapt attention, his hands flexing under his head.

“Don’t move,” I told him, letting my tail fill in the gaps for me. “Let me do all the work.”

Chapter 11

TATE

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck…