Eli tugged at my hair harder until I got the hint and rose to my full height. He wiggled his pants down, and I moved my hand to allow him to do the same with his underwear. He silently took my hand and guided it south. Itook advantage of the moment to graze over his balls, slowly rolling them in my palm in a wordless question—was that what he wanted?
He shuddered, but shook his head and kept nudging my hand. I teased an experimental finger over his taint, adding the slightest amount of pressure against his prostate.
“Ah…almost,” he heaved.
Oh, I understand, sweet boy.
I briefly removed my hand, silencing his protests by shoving two fingers in his mouth. He gagged but recovered, sucking hard and swirling his tongue around the digits until spit dribbled down the corners of his mouth. I pushed down on the flat of his tongue, and he swallowed around me. “Good boy. Get them nice and wet.”
Eli’s resulting mewl vibrated my skin. Once I deemed my fingers appropriately coated, I plucked them from his mouth with apop.I shoved my hand back into his pants before the night air could undo his hard work. I slid through his cheeks, finding his eager little pucker. He let out a contented sigh, dropping his head back again. He gripped my wrist with one hand, bracing himself on the seat with the other.
I circled the muscle with the pad of my finger, and it fluttered under the attention. His hips rolled over my hand, his eyes shut in bliss. “Breathe in, baby.” He inhaled deeply through his nose. “And out.”
On the exhale, I invaded him. Eli sank onto one finger easily, begging for more straight away. My own cock strained against my zipper, but I ignored it. There’d be time for me later, even if it was in the shower… to the fantasy of him coming on my fingers.
I granted him a second finger, then a third when he pleaded for more. That seemed to satiate him, and he spread his legs as wide as his pants would allow, bouncing on my fingers and urging them toward his prostate. He gritted his teeth when I pressed it. “Again,” he growled.
Who was I to deny the man?
My fingers tapped that sweet spot inside of him until he was nothing more than a babbling mess. A satisfied smile quirked my lips. I hardly had to move. Eli fucked himself on my hand until his hole quivered around me.
“I’m close,” he panted, but he didn’t have to tell me.
Since he seemed to not want my hand on his cock, I stimulated him in a different way. Flattening my hand over his lower belly, I added pressure until he thrashed against me. The move assaulted his prostate from all sides—and it drove him wild. Filthy words fell from his lips,sweat-drenched curls hanging in his face. I leaned in, licking a stripe over his neck. He shook in my arms, hanging on the edge.
I knew what he was waiting for, but I was content to drag this out as long as I could. I rocked against him, pressing my own cock into his hip.
He whimpered, turning his head to bring our mouths together. “Please,” he begged, brushing an open-mouthed kiss across my lips. “Please, let me come.”
I smiled, feeling him shudder in my arms. “Go ahead, sweet boy,” I whispered, tucking into his neck and offering him my shoulder to bite on. “Fall apart for me.”
He was coming before the words left my lips. Hot, sticky bursts pulsed onto my stomach, dripping into Eli’s underwear. I milked his prostate, drawing out his orgasm. With his cock trapped between us, he cried out at the oversensitivity, but I didn’t stop. His teeth sank deeper into my shoulder and I swear another wave built, his asshole fluttering around my fingers with a second release.
I stilled, letting him bring himself down from the high. I peppered kisses across his neck and softly praising him for a job well done. When I reared back to look at him, he gazed up at me with flushed cheeks. He still held onto my wrist, almost as if he didn’t want to let go. “Are you ready?” I asked.
Swallowing, he nodded and loosened his grip so I could remove my fingers. He winced at the loss. “I—”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a siren and flashing blue lights. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, rushing to do up his pants and wincing at the mess on both of us.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, stilling his fumbling hands. “Would you let me handle it?”
“I thought you said you could handle it!” Eli hissed, wriggling against the rigid plastic seat. It was hard to sit still with our hands cuffed behind our backs.
“Relax. They’re not going to arrest us.”
“No?” His voice was louder now. “Then why are we in handcuffs?”
“Because that cop has a superiority complex. He’s a rookie—I can smell it on him.”
Eli pinned me with a deadpan stare. “Do you have extensive experience with law enforcement?”
“I plead the fifth.”
He scoffed, muttering something along the lines of, “That was well-practiced.”
Despite Eli’s obvious frustration, he looked good. Damn good. His hair was tousled, sweat still dampening his hairline. Still shirtless, come had dried on the front of his stomach and the waistband of his jeans, and had earned him a scathing look from the officer who caught us. Apparently, there’d been reports of someone screaming.
I’d happily make him do it again.
