And as he comes down, he pulls out gently, allowing me to sputter and cough. The edges of my vision have gone dark at some unknown point, and the realization that I would have let him knock me out with his dick, suffocating me, and I would have done it happily, hits me like a powerful aphrodisiac.
“Good fucking job, sweetheart,” Atticus praises, petting my hair. “You felt so good around me, looked so pretty.”
A soft cry leaves me, and I lean into his touch, nuzzling his thigh. Like a pathetic little bitch. But I can’t think about that, not with his taste on my tongue and his smell crowding my senses.
“Now stand. On your feet,” he demands, and his hands wrap around my biceps as he helps me up.
Oh. It’s over.
Disappointment crashes over me in waves, alongside the realization that I haven’t thought about my shitty morning once since he shoved his hard length in my mouth.
It worked. He got me out of my own head. Now, will I have to return to it?
Only Atticus doesn’t send me away. Instead, a greedy smile forms over his lips as he peers down at me, rubbing his thumb over my cheek to collect my tears.
“Let’s fix this now, hm?” he asks, his other hand falling to squeeze me through my shorts.
“S-shit!” I sputter, tilting towards him and covering his hand with my own.
Atticus leans down and whispers into my ear, “Turn around. Hands on the tree, legs spread.”
Pleasure and terror shoot through me, my dick jumping in his hand, but my mind suddenly reeling once more.
“W-why?” I gasp out, my eyes fighting to stay open.
“Because,” Atticus explains, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of my ear and causing me to shudder. “Now I want yousobbing.”
Atticus
5
CAMERON GASPS, HIS HOTbreath landing against the side of my face like a satisfying drug hit. The soft whimpering noises he’s making must be subconscious, because they hardly stop.
And it’s addictive. It’s intoxicating.
Almost as overwhelming as the sight of his soft, submissive eyes as he drank my come, swallowing me down so easily. If he weren’t so easily startled, I would think he was lying about being new to sucking cock, but the way he seemed so hesitant at first makes me believe his claim.
Now that he has, now that I’ve marked the deepest depths of his body, I want to give him something in return. Something that might clear up his confusion about his attraction to men—he clearly has some denial thing going on.
I’m going to finger his prostate until he’s sobbing, then I’m going to have him come all over himself so he’s forced to remember it for all of eternity.
Then, he’ll be mine. All. Mine. To control, to guide, to protect.
“Turn,” I repeat, releasing his thick shaft. “Hands on the tree, sweetheart. If you listen well, I’ll let you finish.”
With minimal hesitation, Cameron does, his muscular body tense with conflict and his throat working around the undoubtedly distracting soreness coursing through it.
Palms flat against the trunk of the closest tree and his legs shoulder-width apart, he waits. And I stare.
I stare at his trembling shoulders, his defined back, and the sculpted globes of his ass. Cameron might be shorter than me, and sure, I’m not scrawny or anything, but he has much more muscle than I do. Probably because his shorter frame has a harder time distributing the thick bunches.
I want to bite into them, to feel them work around the pointed ends of my teeth. I want him screaming.
With no patience to spare, I yank his shorts and his underwear down, letting them fall to his ankles before I nudge his feet, spreading his legs as far as the clothing will allow.
Cameron gasps, his fingers digging into the rough bark beneath them.
“W-what…” he stutters out, but doesn’t finish. He knowswhat;he just doesn’t want to admit to wanting it.
