Page 55 of Loverboy

My grip was hard enough to bruise as I picked up the pace, forcefully guiding him over the length of my thigh and watching the damp spot on his sweats bleed darker with fascination.

“F-Fuck…” he stammered, turning his face away.

“Don’t hide,” I ordered, one hand leaving his hip to thread my fingers through his hair and yank his head back, earning a whimper.

His eyes were half-lidded and glossy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips between ragged breaths. He was getting into it now, movements urgent as he chased his pleasure, riding me so hard I had to lean more of my weight into him to keep myself from stumbling back.

“Don’t watch,” he groaned.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I taunted. “I wanna see you lose that attitude.”

“Whatever. Don’t think this means I forgive you,” he hissed, doing his best to sound angry despite all of the sounds that accompanied his wildly rocking hips.

I tightened my hold on his scalp, tilting his head to the side and biting where his neck and shoulder met hard enough to make him cry out. A small punishment for trying to create some distance between us, for being so fucking difficult after he caught me having a quick, meaningless fuck. So what if it had been his best friend? Oliver had been nothing more than a convenient hole in a moment of weakness, and I wanted him gone.

“Will you be less angry if I choke you?” I let go of his hair and wrapped my fingers around his throat, feeling him work to swallow beneath my palm. “You like that, right?”

“No.” His denial was unconvincing.

“Milo?” A voice bled through the door. Probably the girl I’d dragged him away from and had no plans of sending him back out to.

The door handle jiggled, followed by a gentle tap against the wood. The initial light squeeze I planned to give his throat ended up much tighter. I didn’t want him to be heard, not by anyone but me.

He gasped softly, lips parting and head falling back against the door with a gentle thud. The muscles in his neck flexed, and despite the threat of being found out, his shameless rocking against my thigh never faltered.

After a few more turns of the knob, with the door unmoving beneath our combined weight, the girl relented, her footsteps fading back into the party beyond the door.

“Harder?” I resumed, my heart racing.

Milo gave a slight nod, his body much more honest than any of the words that had been coming out of his mouth. I squeezed harder and felt the air catching in his throat, his cock pulsing against my leg.

“J-Jasper…” My name on his lips sent a jolt of electricity down my spine.

“That’s it, loverboy,” I encouraged, nipping at his cheek, his chin, his lower lip—anywhere I could reach, possessed by the urge to swallow him whole.

Milo’s gaze flitted back and forth between my eyes and lips as I pressed our foreheads together, his brows knitted. I could tell that he wanted—no, needed something more.

But I wouldn’t have enough restraint left to stop myself from taking things all the way if I kissed him. The safety net of our familial bond would go up in flames, and my obsession with needing him to need me would be laid bare. I was already risking too much.

I chose more punishment instead, reprimanding him for his reckless behaviour. Still choking him with one hand, I used the other to slide under his sweater and raked my nails over his stomach, teasing my way up and making goosebumps explode on his skin. When I found his nipple, it was already hard, begging for attention that only I could give.

I pinched and rolled the pierced nub between my fingers, his back arching into the stimulation. Every sound that fell from his lips felt forbidden, and I couldn’t stop myself from memorizing each one in case I never got the chance to hear them again.

He was so beautiful like this.

He wouldn’t last much longer, the muscles in his throat flexing beneath my hand as he strained to moan, vocal cords vibrating against my palm. I lessened the pressure. I needed to hear more.

“Fuck, Jas—I’m…” Milo cried weakly, his hips stuttering.

His glazed eyes rolled back, and he grew still, the damp spot on his sweatpants spreading rapidly as cum seeped through and dyed the material an even darker shade of grey. I continued grinding my knee into his softening cock, making him twitch and whine from the over-stimulation, a disgruntled look crossing his features.

“Too much,” he breathed.

His protest only made me want to torture him even more, but I restrained myself, slowing until I finally found the strength to let the moment end. I freed my leg from between his, my own cock still throbbing painfully, trapped behind layers of fabric. I couldn’t take it any further, no matter how much my body screamed for his.

He slumped forward, his forehead resting against my collarbone.

“I hated that,” he mumbled into my chest.