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“Please…” Lake repeats. “Please what, baby?”
Some sort of garbled noise leaves my throat. He hums and his palm slides down my chest, his eyes following the movement.
“You know, you look particularly fuckable like this. Something about this neediness really turns me on.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp.
“No, we already agreed I’d fuck you tonight.”
My fingertips dig into his hips, and I buck up.
“Maybe get on with it then?”
He rolls his eyes. “Your wish is my command,” he says, still with the usual sardonic tone, but his cock is already getting harder again, his pupils are dilated when he looks at me, and his voice is hoarse now.
He puts his thumb against my lower lip.
“Open,” he says.
So I do.
He shuffles upward and feeds me his dick again. He lifts up a bit and leans over me, hands against the wall. My shoulders tense for a moment, but his thrusts are slow and careful, controlled. My body relaxes into the mattress. My head empties of thoughts. There’s only his taste in my mouth and the smell of him in my nostrils, the sounds he makes in my ears and the feel of his thighs tensing underneath my palms.
I pull him toward me. He goes faster. Deeper.
The noises he makes grow more desperate.
He pulls out and stills, his fingers grappling for purchase against the wall, breaths loud and heaving. For a few prolonged moments, he stays like that, the head of his cock still against my lips. I lick over the tip, and he pulls away.
“God, don’t,” he says with a laugh, “or I’m gonna blow all over your face.”
Well, I didn’t know I was into that, but apparently I find the idea more than appealing.
“Some other time,” Lake says. He leans over the side of the bed and fumbles around for a bit before he comes up with lube and a condom.
Then he’s between my legs, hand nudging my thighs farther apart.
I swallow.
Yeah, okay, this is it.
I can do it. I can totally take his dick. His long, thick dick. In my ass.
My asshole clenches, and if I’m completely honest with myself, it’s not in a stick-it-in kind of way.
I aim my gaze toward the ceiling and try to breathe and relax.
It’s amazing how difficult it is to get your body to loosen up on purpose.
It takes me a bit to realize Lake’s hands have stilled.
I look down at where he’s still kneeling between my thighs, looking at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “Just trying to figure out if it’s a kink that makes you so tense and looking like you’re preparing for a prostate exam.”
I send him an unimpressed look. “Shut up.”
