That’s permission, whether he wants to admit it or not.
I take more.
My mouth presses harder this time, angling to catch the edge of his, tongue flicking just enough to tease. My free hand slideslower, over the flat of his stomach, tracing the line down toward his waistband.
That’s when he finally reacts. His hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist in a vise grip before I can go further. His eyes blaze, breath ragged, jaw tight.
But he still doesn’t saystop.
“See?” I whisper, breath mingling with his. “If you really hated it, you’d shove me away. You’d say something. But you’re quiet because you don’t want it to end.”
The war in his face is almost beautiful—rage warring with arousal, shame knotted with want. He’s fighting himself more than me. And I’m winning.
His gym shorts are tented by his erection.
I press another kiss to the corner of his mouth, softer this time, almost tender. My thumb strokes the inside of his wrist where he grips me, feeling the rapid beat of his pulse. “You feel it too. Don’t you?”
He closes his eyes like the weight of it is too much. His silence has shifted now—not defiance, but something closer to surrender.
Fuck, he’s pretty. His big eyes almost make me melt.
An animalistic sound rips from my chest. “Get on your knees, Leander.”
“What?” Leander’s sweet voice is laced with shock, making my dick impossibly harder.
My hands shove him to the ground. He doesn’t fight me, doesn’t even resist me peeling off his shirt from behind his neck. He’s breathing hard, the war obvious in his eyes. His tan skin is still slick with sweat.
I start unlacing the waistband of my joggers. Leander’s eyes stare at the large bulge in front of his nose, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed.
My cock is hard and already beading with cum on the tip as I pull it out. He doesn’t know it, but Leander’s jaw releases like he’s already planning on shoving it deep down his throat.
“Open your fucking mouth and take me like a good boy.” I stroke my shaft once, twice.
Leander’s eyes fog over as he pops his mouth open, saliva dripping from his tongue like he had been salivating for me.
I press the head of my dick against his tongue, groaning from the warm, wet sensation of him. He makes a dirty little show of sucking me off, his lips tracing the seam.
“Fuck,” I pant.
Leander pulls my hips closer to his head, sinking my cock deeper into his throat.
The small action of him pulling me closer sends me over the edge.
My fingers rake through his hair, pulling on his sandy brown locks harshly. He needs to be punished for denying me for so long. But Lee just hums happily against my skin, a wet spot forming on his grey gym shorts.
I pull myself from his mouth, a whimper escaping from his empty throat. My hand begins pumping my dick, Leander’s saliva making it feel like a fucking masterpiece.
“Touch yourself.” My voice doesn’t sound anywhere like me.
Leander’s pouts. “Phoenix?—”
God, the way he says my name. Like only that word can make him feel good. “Now, Lee.”
He pulls himself out, and my mouth almost goes dry from the mere size of him. Jesus Christ.
I push his shoulders back against the lockers, the rough metal rattle almost covering Leander’s sweet gasp.
His cock stands at attention from his slender hips. I lean over and spit on the head of it. “Make it feel good.”
