Page 102 of Loverboy

It was easier when he taunted and teased me.

“It’s embarrassing,” I admitted quietly.

“Being loved by me?” He quirked a pierced brow.

I groaned, flustered. “Not that.”

Jasper straightened up, releasing my cock and then leaning in to press his forehead against mine. I was so sure I’d gone and ruined everything with my inability to just shut the fuck up.

“Do you know how hard it’s been?” His voice was strained, and there was a glossy film over his eyes. “Watching everyone else do a shit job at loving you?”

I shook my head, unable to speak without breaking down into tears.

He kissed me then, deep and slow. The slant of his lips over mine, the smell of his shaky breath through his nostrils, all of it made me light-headed. I wanted so badly to let myself have this, to have him.

“I don’t deserve it.”

His thumb brushed my cheek. “I do.”

My brow furrowed.

“I want you. I deserve you,” he said with certainty. “So you’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it.”

My heart squeezed as though he’d reached between my ribs and grabbed it with his bare hands. I wanted to be selfish, too. I wanted to soak up everything he gave me, everything he had—even if it didn’t feel like I’d earned it.

“Okay,” I rasped.

When he shifted back down and started touching me again, I didn’t say a word. He started from the beginning, the press of his lips over my scars much harder than before, like he was making a statement, a silent vow. I’d given up on not crying through it, my vision blurry with tears as I clutched the camera tightly, so swept up in the moment that I kept having to remind myself to click the shutter button while he worshipped every inch of skin the lamplight touched.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised.

The urge to say something snarky bubbled up, and I swallowed it down instead, letting the affirmation wash over me. I was so raw with emotion that by the time he’d circled back to my cock, his grip firm, his lips grazing the tip, I was on the edge, my balls drawing up tight. With one hand still holding the camera, I fisted a handful of his hair with a deep, shuddering breath, praying I wouldn’t cum before he’d even started.

“Fuck.” The air left my lungs in a hurry as the heat of his mouth enveloped me, my hips instinctively rocking into his face.

Jasper hummed, the sound vibrating around my cock and sending jolts of electricity up my spine. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked hard, his nails gently raking over my thighs and adding to the already overwhelming sensations rocking me to my core.

“That feels good,” I said, the words feeling awkward and foreign.

My honesty was rewarded when the head of my cock hit the back of his throat, his muscles contracting around my width and making my abs tense, way too fucking close to sending me over the edge.

The camera slipped through my fingers, slick with sweat. It was impossible to take pictures while he worked me so thoroughly, staring up at me with hooded eyes as he picked up the pace.

“Slow down—” I groaned. “You’re gonna make me—”

The cord of tension in my muscles eventually snapped, everything giving out at once. My jaw slackened, but hardly any noise came out, the room falling out of focus for a disorientating moment. He didn’t stop, his throat working to swallow every ounce of my release while my thighs squeezed and trembled around his head.

My softening cock slipped out of his mouth as he sat up, and I fully expected to see him smirking after I came so quickly. But he wasn’t. His cheeks were flushed, his breath ragged, and the look in his eyes was so tender it almost physically hurt to look at him.

He set the camera back on the nightstand and planted his hands on either side of my head on the pillow, his eyes raking over me as he hovered above.

His nose brushed against mine.

“You’re so perfect when you let me love you right.”

What the fuck did he want me to do with that?

I turned my head to the side in embarrassment, refusing to look at him.