Though I can’t really blame him. It’s the first time in my life I’ve been staggeringly desperate to fuck someone.
Get inside them.
Ownthem.
I’ve never worked this hard for a hole in my entire existence.
Never tolerated so much push and pull, temper tantrums, and rejection.
I tell myself that’s the only reason this fuck felt special—because Ifinallyconquered Preston Armstrong.
If I follow that logic, this morbid fixation and disturbing obsession should vanish right about now.
I wait and wait, and fuckingwaitas I breathe him in.
Nope.
No disappearing in sight.
If anything, my cock lengthens inside him, demanding round two. Now.
A muffled groan tears out of me. Just what is it about Preston fucking Armstrong that makes him impossible to resist?
Is he actually some sort of a fucking fairy in human form? He’s obviously ethereal in some way.
His fingers unwrap from around me in a sudden jerk as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to hold on too tight…” His voice is stripped raw, a tad vulnerable.
Not as vulnerable as when he talked to me earlier with a tear sliding down his cheek, but it’s close enough.
“I don’t mind.” I lift myself up slightly, planting my elbows on either side of his face so I’m not crushing him.
But I don’t leave too much space, our abs still pinning his deflated cock and my own still twitching deep in his warm heat.
And now, I’m staring at his gorgeous face and his swollen, parted lips.
If I had the power to stop time, this would be the moment.
He blinks twice. “You…don’t?”
“Should I?”
“Yeah. No one enjoys being held on to like…that.”
There’s a strange type of mixed irritation and fascination in his voice, and it’s intriguing to see the two polar emotions blend.
“Is that what you’ve been told?” I stroke a strand from his forehead to behind his ear.
I expect him to flinch like he does sometimes when I touch him this gently, but he seems to be preoccupied with what I said. So I leave my fingers on his face, caressing his beautiful skin with my knuckles.
“What I’ve been told?” he repeats.
“Isn’t that the case? Someone probably ordered you not to hug like that. Maybe they said it’s annoying?”
His lips part before he seals them shut again. “It is annoying.”
“It’s not. It’s how you show affection.” I brush my mouth against his trembling lips once, twice, three times, and he just lets me, shivering beneath me.
