Page 51 of Jagged Edge


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lso wet, like mine, peeling it off his muscular chest and arms, and I’m left staring, my mouth gone dry, a zing of arousal shooting straight to my balls, my train of thought lost. Obliterated.

What was I ranting about in my mind?

Who the hell cares?

He puts his hands on his belt buckle, and the sound of leather slipping through the metal has my dick hardening. He undoes his belt, unzips his jeans. Pushes them down.

I lick my lips. Blink.

Dammit, I’m supposed to be the one stripping, putting on a show. Calling the shots. Not staring like a star-struck kid, gaping at his package as he lets his jeans fall to the floor.

Or as he shoves his hand into his briefs and grabs his cock, taking it out. He jacks himself off slowly, his eyes on me. Upward stroke. Downward stroke.

Jesus.

My dick lifts and twitches. I glance down at the bulge in my pants.

“I want you to suck me off,” he says. When I look up, he’s still stroking his cock, his blue eyes stormy with need. “Undress and get on your knees.”

Of course. No problem. I open my mouth to fire off a witty retort, but nothing comes to mind.

It makes no sense why I grit my teeth as I jerk my pants and boxer briefs down my legs, why I unlace my boots as if I’m trying to strangle them. I toe off my boots and socks and kick them away like they’ve personally insulted me.

I stalk over to him, trying to figure out my issue. Sucking Raine off isn’t a problem. Not a hardship, either. It’s just that… I want to taste him, lick his skin, feel it slide over the hard core of his erection, taste his precum.

Have him spill on my tongue, down my throat.

Swallowing hard, I stand in front of him, and oh man, my dick is really into this, hardening more. It feels good. I want Raine to push me against the wall like earlier, kiss me. Force pleasure on me, out of me. Touch me.

Talk to me.

But he doesn’t move, only his gaze dipping to my mouth.

And why would he? God, you’re an idiot, Jason. What the fuck’s the matter with you? Get on with it. Do your fucking job. Who cares about what you want all of a sudden?

Looks like I haven’t learned a single damn thing all these years.

Nothing at all.

“Here,” he mutters when I wrap my hand around his condom-wrapped dick and bring it to my mouth. “Take it deep.”

His fingers twist in my short hair, slipping and finding no purchase. He hunches over with a small grunt when I do as instructed and suck him in.

As if I need guidance.

Scowling at the dark treasure trail leading from his navel to his crotch, I focus on the job, hollowing my cheeks as I suck and work him with my hand. He feels good in my mouth, thick and so hard.

My dick throbs, a steady pulse, a crazy pressure building in my balls. Normally blowjobs aren’t anything exciting for me, but tonight I’m about to bust a nut just from this, from hearing him moan, smelling him, knowing it’s his hand in my hair, his cock in my mouth.

Raine…

“Fuck. Touch yourself,” he breathes, his hand sliding down the side of my face, to my jaw. “I want to see you jack off as you blow me.”

I falter.

Like last time, I’m not fully hard. Yet when I reach down, grab my half-hard dick and give it a squeeze, it feels damn good. My breath catching at the pleasure, I tighten my hold on Raine’s cock and suck him in until he hits the back of my throat. It only makes me harder.

This is awesome. And yet scary. How am I to keep my mind from getting all tangled up in my business when I want this so much, when every stroke of my hand brings a fresh wave of pleasure? I moan around his cock while I jerk off, feeling my ass clench and my stomach tighten, heat spreading through my middle.

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