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He shakes his head and pushes his hips up. I growl, forcing him down, slowly running my hand south over his chest, down to the zipper of his hoodie, opening it while he struggles. He’s wearing a white shirt underneath. I can see his hard nipples outlined against the fabric. “I missed this.” I press my palm against his chest, and he groans as he closes his eyes on a sigh.

“Don’t play with me like this, Moon.” His voice sounds so needy and rough.

“Like what?” I ask, pushing my hand under his shirt and let the tips of my fingers glide over his soft skin, circling his taut nipple with my thumb. When I pinch hard, his back lifts off the bed and a gasp leaves his lips that I swallow by pressing my lips against his. His eyes open on a moan and I watch him as I devour his mouth with my own while we struggle for the upper hand.

“Nooo,” he moans while he fights with me, trying to push me away. I kiss his neck and bite at the place where his pulse is beating rapidly. He tries to move his legs, but I straddle him and push his left knee up. “No, I don’t want this!”

Grabbing the back of his head hard, I push in my tongue and savor the taste of him, muffling his pleading. He arches his back and keeps struggling while I take what I want. The way he trembles, the way his tongue pushes against mine. The way I suck on his bottom lip and his back arches as he whimpers. He tries to defy me with his words, but his body gives him away. He pushes and grabs at my shoulders at the same time. Like he’s fighting not only me, but also himself.

He lets out a startled moan as I push his hands next to his head, and hover above him while a line of saliva hangs between our lips, softly grinding my erection against his growing one. He closes his eyes on a deep cry and links our hands together, taking me by surprise.

“Moon, it burns, please,” he begs as his body heaves. “I need,” he begins but bites on his bottom lip.

I stop for a second and an angry grunt hits my lips. He nips at my bottom lip and kisses me back, our tongues teasing each other. I’ve never kissed anyone except him; I might have fucked people before he came into my life, but no kissing. My dick is ready to burst out of my pants. It hurts having no room to fucking breathe. I pull back and look at him.

“What the hell do you want, Moon?” he asks, resting his hands next to his head trying to catch his breath. I like this submissive part of him. I like it even better when he’s pushing his fists against my chest trying to get me to stop though. “What do you want?” he asks again, much calmer this time as his chest heaves.

I want to scream you in his face, but I know he can never be mine. I can only get these moments. There are still too many things in play for him to truly be mine, if he ever will. He doesn’t have a choice though. I’ll break his legs and heart to keep him from leaving me.

I shake my head; his eyes are dreamy, and half-lidded. His long hair spread around his pretty face as he catches his breath.

“I want it all,” I say and reach out running a finger through the whipped cream of the cake and place it against his lips.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” he questions, like it’s finally dawning on him; even if he puts up a fight he’ll always be the one to lose.

“No.” I shake my head, trailing the frosting over his lips.

He watches me with a faint smile tugging on his lips as his tongue darts out to get a taste.

“That’s it, give in to me,” I praise him, slowly sliding the frosting over his mouth from left to right down to his neck to cut off his oxygen.

His tongue darts out to taste more. I join him as I press my lips to his, licking at the cream until there’s nothing left. He moans and his hand travels into my hair, holding me in place as I hover above him. I keep kissing him until the right corner of his mouth hikes up in a smirk, and I feel him harden against my thigh. He wants it too.

“It tastes so good,” he rasps, his voice so low and seductive.

I sit back on my haunches and roughly take off my tie while he watches. I feel for the buttons, not taking my eyes from him and slowly pop every single one and drop the shirt on the floor. He reaches out and I shudder the moment his knuckles run over my abs, tracing the lines of my tattoos.

“You’re so beautiful,” I tell him as I caress his cheek, softly running my fingers through his bleached hair.

“Don’t lie,” he says, a mask of hurt sliding over his features as he turns his face away from me.

I cup his cheek. “When it comes to you, I don’t lie.” I take off my watch and reach over him to place it on the nightstand.

“Moon, what are you doing?” He closes his mouth as I run my hard-on over his stomach. His belly dips and his breathing intensifies while he stares at me, his eyes so big and full of trepidation.

I lean forward and press my hands into the sheets next to his head. “Eliot,” I breathe and his eyes flash to mine. His hands trail over my arms as my muscles strain and he moans, my name slipping from his lips. I put in my tongue piercing especially for him.

“This means nothing, got it?” I tell him and grab his chin to underline my point.

He nods and doesn’t say anything, but the way his pretty mouth parts on a gasp when I push my thumb into his mouth has my dick taking notice.

He sucks on my digit and flashes me a smile. Can he feel I’m ready to burst? I pull out; I need to show him who has the upper hand, so I slap him hard across the face. He lets out a deep growl and smiles at me while his hips shoot up. He tries to make contact with my thigh, but I push my knee between his legs and keep him in place.

“You like that you sick fuck?” I ask, grabbing him by the throat.

He places both hands against mine and stares at me. He swallows hard and I feel it against my palm, making my dick leak pre-cum already. His cheek is starting to redden from my slap and there’s a cut on the left. I lean forward and bite hard on his lip drawing blood. His hips shoot up and he moans while I pull back. “Answer me!” I roar.

Sighing he stares into my eyes. “Do what you want with me. I wouldn’t be able to put up a fight with you anyway,” he answers, letting his hands drop against the sheets.