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“Jesus,” James swore.
“I don’t know if he was into that,” Elio joked. “But I happen to love a nice, thick cock in my mouth.” Then he brought out his Dom voice. “Say, ‘please suck my cock, Elio.’”
James shuddered for so long, eyes squeezed shut, that Elio wondered if he’d already come.
But when he dragged his eyes open, he managed to beg. “Please suck my cock, Elio.”
“That’s right, Daddy,” Elio praised. “Ask for what you need. Show me how dirty you are.”
James moaned before Elio even had his button opened. And he only got louder when Elio reached his zipper. Of course James wore briefs, boring white ones that were still sexy as fuck, cupping his package so innocently.
Elio nuzzled against him, getting his scent. “Naughty Daddy, you’re wet already here.” He licked across the head, wetting the cotton. “You’ve been thinking about sex all day, haven’t you?” He licked again.
“Yes,” James choked out.
“Because you need this. You need someone taking good care of you.” He nuzzled again, then pulled down that last layer of fabric. James’s cock popped up, thick and heavy.
He couldn’t wait to get a taste.
Chapter 5
James
Nothing in his life had prepared James for having Elio’s mouth on his cock.
From the first playful lick, circling around the head, he was afraid he would shoot right then, ending the adventure before it even began.
Then Elio sucked him down, all wet heat and the impossibly tight squeeze of his throat. It shouldn’t have even been possible. He was drowning in the sensation, losing his tether to the earth.
He pulled helplessly against the cord that bound his hands, the whole sensation doubling when he realized there was nothing he could do about it.
He was trapped. Helpless. Forced to take the onslaught of pleasure and anything else that Elio chose to give him.
God, it was amazing.
And he was about one stroke away from coming.
“Please!” he called out, in some strangled, unrecognizable voice, unsure whether he wanted everything to slow down or barrel towards its inevitable finish.
He’d never sounded like that before. So desperate and wrecked.
He’d never been this person before.
He barely recognized himself, but it didn’t matter, because he was drunk on sensation. Drunk on Elio.
“Please what, Daddy?” Elio’s words were puffs of air against his sensitive tip. Elio’s face was wickedly pleased, grinning up at him.
That brush of scruff. Those broad shoulders. That dangerous lock of hair flopping over his eyes.
Right. He had to answer.
When James couldn’t form words, that evil tongue started circling his tip again, latching onto the frenulum while he quivered and tried desperately not to come.
“I’m not gonna last,” he finally sputtered.
Elio cackled. “Is that what you’re worried about, Daddy? You can come. Any time you want to. The only thing is, I’m not gonna stop. Even when you’re too sensitive and screaming. You ever come like that before?”
James shook his head. He’d never done any of this before. Sex with Catherine had been… functional. At best.
