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The wet heat of his mouth that I remember is a temptation that’s difficult to resist, but I press my hand to his chest to halt his advance. We don’t have much time, and if I start kissing him, I won’t stop. He needs a warning to stay the hell away from me, not encouragement. As rabid as he makes me feel, I’m not selfish, like Randy claimed.
Cam is too impulsive where I’m concerned. Too impulsive with his first sexual experiences. I won’t dare to let myself hope that I’m truly the man he wants when he’s never even talked intimately with someone before me.
“Undo your pants,” I rasp, reaching into my pocket.
He blinks and follows my hand with his gaze, but starts working on his belt before he even sees me retrieve the little black velvet bag. So compliant. So trusting. So eager. He checks every box I didn’t know I had.
Withdrawing the plug from the bag, I watch his hooded gaze widen in surprise when he sees it. It was the smallest one I could find. The words anal plug sound like plumbing parts, not something sexy, but the way his lips part and his breathing shallows, I’m inclined to change my mind. You’d think it was one of those muffins he likes by the way he’s looking at it.
“You think you can take this?” I ask, holding it up between us.
It’s now that I notice that he’s got his pants and boxer briefs already lowered. I wonder what he expected. The fact he likely had no clue what to expect and dropped his drawers, simply because I asked, has me hard behind my fly.
Glancing at the black silicone for less than a second, his gaze flicks to mine. He nods. Just once. Certain. Determined. Eager.
A rogue thought dances through my head. Inserting the conical shape into my mouth, I lave my tongue around its circumference. He gasps. His chest rises and falls, and I catch sight of his cock tenting the tails of his crisp white dress shirt.
The plug tastes like silicone, rubbery and medical after the thorough cleaning I gave it this morning, but it doesn’t need to please my senses. Slowly, I twist it out of my mouth, taking care to ensure it's well-lubricated. The show is as much a tease for him as it is a display of care to let him know I want to give him an easy passage.
Holding the tip up, I’m practically panting just at the sight of him. I can hear my heartbeat in my eardrums.
“Come here,” I whisper.
Shuffling forward, he gives up holding his pants. They drop to his ankles when we’re nearly chest to chest. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I sigh when I feel his slink around my neck. His forehead rests in the crook of my neck, his soft hair tickling my ear as I reach for him.
My palm covers one of the warm, smooth globes I’ve only seen in that image he sent me. I trace a circular path over it once just to appreciate the feel of the lean muscle beneath, the perfection of its shape. My fingers find his crease, tracing down the path where his ass divides. He shudders in my arms, clinging tighter to me.
It’s all I can do to resist grinding my cock against his where he’s pressed against my slacks. Cupping the underside of his cheek, I grip a handful and graze his channel with my index finger, finding what I’m looking for. It twitches under my touch, forcing me to pinch my eyes closed and take a breath when he lets out a needy whimper. Directing the plug to his pucker with my other hand, I feel the point of resistance when I make contact. I’m there.
“Ready?” I ask, remembering what I read about these devices.
“Yes,” he pants, his open mouth pressed to my neck.
“Push out,” I advise, hoping like hell it’s the right advice as I press the plug into him.
His hips tilt back toward my hand, and he grunts. Pressing my finger to the base, I stand in wonder at the feel of it moving deeper, of it being accepted, until my hand brushes up against his tailbone.
A hot gust of breath hits my neck, and he shudders again on a soft moan. I want to devour him and never leave this closet. Instead, I drag my open mouth through his hair, quietly inhaling along the way, brushing his temple with my lips as I draw back.
I reluctantly let my hands fall away from his inviting body. He relinquishes my neck, his hands dropping to his sides. It looks like he just ran a marathon the way his mouth is hanging open, shaky breaths leaving his lips as he stares at me.
Crouching down, I grab the waist of his clothing and slide them up his legs, but find myself stopping when I come face to face with his cock. It’s pointed right at me, a mere inch away. A bead of liquid is threatening to drop to the floor.
‘I want to taste him,’ he had said. I finally understand that need he expressed. It’s something I never imagined I’d crave, but what it represents is too humbling of a gift to waste. Maybe I’ll hate it, given my dislike of fluids, but it’s better I find out now for my piece of mind. It’ll be further proof that I can’t give him what he needs if I find it to my disliking.
Extending my tongue, I trace it up the slit of his cockhead. It’s so soft and slick. The bead of liquid hits my taste buds as he whimpers and grips my shoulder.
It’s salty, but with a hint of the light musky undertone that lurks beneath his Snuggle scent. I don’t hate it. I don’t hate it at all.
Sucking in a breath, I tuck him away and zip up his fly. I’m not only lying to him now, but I’m also lying to myself. That plug isn’t a warning. It’s an incentive, a last-ditch effort to make him mine, so when he’s walking around with it brushing his prostate, he thinks of me—the man who put it there. I am selfish, after all. I wish to hell he’d do me a favor and grow tired of me now before he consumes me any further. I recovered from Lauren and my other exes, but I’d never recover from Cameron Fairway.
Rising to my feet, I straighten the slack in his dress shirt and take him in. He looks presentable. He looks like any other guy in this office building in dress slacks, a tie, and a shirt… except now he looks like mine. This level of possessiveness can’t be healthy.
As he stares at me, lips parted like he’s waiting for my next move, my next command, I want to both wrap him up in my arms and weep at what the thought of him with someone else feels like. Reaching around behind him, I run my hand down the slope of his pants to the underside of his ass and press my middle finger until I feel the base of the plug through his slacks. His eyes slip closed again, and he moans, lowering his head like he’s going to rest it on my shoulder. Catching his chin with my knuckle, I tilt it back up to get him to focus on my words.
“The way you looked at me in the hallway? The way you’re looking at me now? The next time you look at me like that, this will be my cock.” This time it is a warning.
I don’t know if he even comprehends given the way his eyes are so clouded with lust. He just blinks at me, his breathing heavy.
