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His lids drooped, and he shook his head. “Not enough.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
“I want to see teeth marks when I look in the mirror later.”
His words were a punch of adrenaline, priming my body and awakening the predator in me that wanted to claim, claim, claim.
My insides were burning, and even as I thought to make sure he meant it, my teeth sank into the flesh of his inner thigh before I could even form a sentence.
He moaned, low and long, spreading his legs farther apart to give me more room. My teeth buried themselves in his skin, not deep enough to draw blood but enough that I knew he’d bear my mark.
His hand slapped my head, fingers pushed deeper, but as horny as I was, I refused to draw blood. Instead, I sucked the spot, massaging it with my tongue.
His hand fell away, hips thrusting up, and I marveled at the sight of him utterly relaxed. His mind was no longer calling the shots, pleasure and want riding him hard.
Unlatching from his thigh, I slid my hands beneath his ass and lifted, burying my face between his cheeks.
He gave a surprised yell, but I didn’t stop, swiping my tongue against his opening and groaning on contact.
“Oh God,” he murmured. “Fuck.”
I smiled against his skin with renewed passion to please him in every way. I sucked and slurped at his opening until it was soft and pliant and he was a trembling mess against the blankets.
“Lube?” I asked, swiping the back of my hand over my wet mouth. God, I smell like him. Like sex.
He pointed to his duffle, and I went, stroking my aching dick. I found the bottle moments later and came back between his legs. The sound of the cap popping open drew his eyes, and he watched me coat my fingers and warm it before laying them against his hole.
He sucked in a breath as I massaged his rim, adding more of the slick to make sure he was good and wet. His body tensed when I pushed the first finger in, and I came over him to whisper in his ear.
“What a good boy,” I whispered. “You’re so warm and tight. Perfect.”
He relaxed, and I slid deeper, working his hole until he was rocking against me and begging for another. I gave it without hesitation, lowering my lips to kiss over his collarbone as I scissored him open.
When I was sure he was ready, I pulled back and drizzled more liquid between his crack, using some of the excess to pump his dick.
“Please, Arsen,” he whimpered.
“I got you,” I vowed and reached for the condom.
The sound of the wrapper ripping made him look, and I felt his eyes as I rolled the latex down my shaft. The sound of the rubber was tacky beneath my lubed-up hands.
The urgency in the air shifted a little. The desperation he’d been bleeding moments before seemed somehow less. Hand still around the base of my dick, I looked up, seeing the way apprehension dimmed some of the need in his stare.
Before I could say anything, he blinked, and reached for me, puckering his lips with a silent plea. My heart squeezed, and I lowered onto him to feed him my tongue.
He sighed happily as we kissed, and I thrust against him, slotting our dicks together. Beneath mine, his lips faltered, and his face fell to the side. His hands palmed my waist, fingers digging in. I thrust us together again, thinking it was what he wanted… knowing instantly I was wrong.
I pulled back, noting how he kept his head turned, also noting the way his hands fisted at his sides.
“What is it?” I asked, instantly on alert. “What happened?”
He said nothing, just kept his head turned away.
“Matthew,” I said, voice picking up an edge.
“It’s nothing.” He straight lied. “Just do it.”
I’m sorry, but what?
