Page 9

“I can handle anything you’ve got.” But his voice is wrecked. Barely getting the words out.

“Yeah? Because you’re throbbing in my hand right now, Bran.”

“So are you.”

He squeezes me, hard, a full-fist clamp, and my whole body jolts. I bite down on my tongue to keep the moan in.

We’re both breathing hard now. The room is nothing but wet sounds, grunts, and the couch creaking under us. His forehead is damp. Mine too. I can smell him, sweat and that sandalwood body wash he uses.

I look down at where my hand is wrapped around him. His cock is straining in my grip, the head fat and shiny, a string of precum dripping down over my fingers. And out of nowhere, out of absolutely fucking nowhere, a thought drops into my head like a grenade.

What would he taste like?

I blink. Shake it off. Where the fuck did that come from?

But the thought won’t go away. It digs in deeper. My mouth actually waters, and that freaks me out more than anything else. The idea of leaning in. Swiping my tongue across the slick head of his cock. Sucking him into my mouth. Forcing all that thickness into my throat until I gag on it. He’s right there. Right there. I’d just have to lean forward and⁠—

Brandon twists his wrist while he squeezes, and my whole body locks up.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Bran—wait—I’m—gonna⁠—”

“Gonna what?” He speeds up.

“Ease up. Bran. Ease up.”

“Why?” His fist keeps pumping, grip tightening. “You sound like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Too much. I’m too close.”

“I know you are. I can feel it.”

And then, right on the goddamn edge, right when I have about five seconds before I explode all over his fist, he lets go.

I sit there gasping, my dick pulsing in empty air. His cock falls from my grip and slaps back against his stomach. He’s sprawled out, chest heaving, shirt rucked up past his abs.

“Almost had you,” he says, all smug.

“So why’d you stop?”

“Because that would be too easy. Where’s the fun in that?” He shoves his cock back into his sweats with a grimace. “I want you to lose on your own. I want you lying in bed, wide awake, cracking because you can’t take it anymore. This?” He nods at my lap. “This was just me reminding you what you’re up against.”

I can’t believe he didn’t finish me. And worse, I can’t believe how disappointed I am about it.

“Bullshit. You were about to pop yourself.”

“You know that’s not true.” He stands up and adjusts himself, wincing. “I could’ve ended it right here. We both know who’d be wearing that outfit. But you started this whole thing. Now you get to suffer through it.” He turns toward the bathroom. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a very cold shower.”

The door clicks shut behind him. A few seconds later, the water turns on.

I sit there, half-dressed and wrecked, my cock so hard it aches.

My eyes drop to my hand. At the slick coating my fingers. His.

Before I can stop myself, I bring them to my mouth.

And lick them clean.