His breath catches. “Julian, I?—”
“Shh,” I silence him, wrapping my hand around his length. “This cock is fucking gorgeous. So pretty.” I stroke him slowly, measuring him with my hand. “Biggest I would have ever taken. You should feel honored.”
I lower my mouth to taste him, taking him deep in one smooth motion. His strangled moan sends heat rushing through me. I’ve only bottomed a handful of times in my life—always preferring to dominate, to be the one giving rather than receiving—but the thought of feeling Elliot inside me has me achingly hard again.
I pull off with a wet sound. “You taste even better than I imagined,” I tell him, licking a stripe from base to tip. “I’ve rarely let anyone fuck me before. But you... something about you makes me want to feel this beautiful cock stretching me open.”
I reach for the bottle of lube on the nearby table, keeping my eyes locked on Elliot’s. His pupils are blown wide, watching my every move with desperate hunger.
“You want this?” I ask, pouring the slick liquid onto my fingers. “Want to feel how tight I am around that gorgeous cock of yours?”
He nods frantically. “Yes, God, yes.”
I turn slightly, giving him a view as I reach behind myself. The cool sensation of lube against my entrance makes me hiss, but I push past the discomfort, working one finger inside, then two. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed anyone this privilege.
“Fuck,” I breathe, stretching myself. “Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”
His cock twitches at my words, and I smile. When I’m ready, I pour more lube into my palm and wrap my hand around his length, coating him generously. He groans at my touch, straining against his restraints.
“Stay still,” I command, positioning myself above him, facing him. “This is my show.”
I lower myself slowly, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. The initial resistance gives way to a burning stretch as I sink inch by inch, my breath catching. Elliot’s expression is transcendent—mouth parted, eyes glazed with pleasure, a flush spreading across his cheeks.
“Just relax,” I whisper, fully seated now. “Be a good boy and let me ride this thick, hard cock.”
I roll my hips experimentally, adjusting to his size. The fullness is overwhelming in the best possible way.
“Your ass,” Elliot gasps, “so fucking tight. Never felt anything like this.”
I start a slow rhythm, rising before sinking back down, my own cock hard between us. “Tell me how it feels,” I demand, gripping the back of the chair for leverage.
“Like heaven,” he moans, thrusting up as much as his restraints allow. “So hot, so tight around me. Want to touch you so badly.”
I laugh, breathless. “That’s the point of the restraints, baby. You get to watch while I take what I want.”
I increase my pace, rising and falling on Elliot’s cock harder. His restraints creak as he strains against them, trying to thrust deeper into me. I’ve always been the one in control, the one doing the fucking, but something is intoxicating about being fucked by him this way while still maintaining control.
“Fuck, Julian,” Elliot gasps, his voice deeper than I’ve ever heard it. “Your ass is strangling my cock.”
I hadn’t expected words from him—certainly not filthy ones. The proper art dealer, with his carefully constructed image, suddenly unleashing this raw side, catches me off guard.
“Take everything,” he continues, his eyes locked on mine, something primal breaking free. “Ride me harder. Want to feel you squeeze every inch of me.”
My rhythm falters as heat floods through me. This wasn’t part of my plan—him talking back, him affecting me this way.
“God, look at you,” Elliot groans, hips pushing up to meet my movements. “So fucking beautiful bouncing on my cock.”
“Shut up,” I hiss, but there’s no force behind it. My body betrays me, clenching around him at his words.
“You love it,” he says, a smile spreading across his face despite his bound position. “Love feeling me deep inside you. Your cock is dripping for me.”
I’m leaking precum between us, untouched and harder than I’ve been in years. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. I’m supposed to be unaffected, in complete control.
“You’re fucking ruining me,” I admit, my voice ragged as I grind down harder. “Those filthy words from that perfect mouth—Christ, Elliot.”
His eyes darken with satisfaction. “Maybe that was my plan all along.”
For a bound man, he looks remarkably victorious. And somehow, it only makes me want him more.
