I held onto the illusion that I had him trapped against this wall as I fucked him with my mouth. We both knew he could stop me if he wanted to. His half-assed attempt to fight me died when I trailed my hand across his stomach, down to the place where his leg met his body, and lower until it was involved in pleasing him. I cupped his balls and massaged.
“Fuck, fuck . . .” he chanted through his labored breathing. Both of his hands were in my hair. “Where the hell . . . did you come from?”
If I weren’t already busy, his rhetorical question would have gotten me to smile.
His hips moved and flexed, and that cock jabbed in my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat
. He flinched with pleasure as I skimmed my teeth lightly over the head. It was an action I loved, one that was unspoken trust, showing my intent wasn’t to hurt. But more importantly, it explained to him exactly who was in control of the moment. He could tug on my hair or push on my head all he wanted, but if he went too far, I’d be ready to deliver some sharp, immediate correction.
My lips were coated in saliva and starting to go numb from the punishing rhythm we’d fallen into, when his legs wavered. The tiniest shiver of uncontrolled movement, but it was a clear signal that he was close. Plus, he exhaled loud and long, a moan escaping him that was filled with pleasure.
I threw everything I had into it. My tongue, suction, my nails scraping lightly over the tender flesh below what was in my mouth. It only seemed fair. The orgasm he’d given me had been phenomenal. Could I give him the same experience?
“Jesus Christ, it feels so good,” he whispered.
Heat warmed across my cheeks. It was a simple thing to say, but hearing it was . . . nice. It got to me so much more than it should have. And it turned me on further. The ache for satisfaction was back, flaring wildly.
The moan I made hadn’t been forced. It crept out of me without thought or intent. I slowed, surprised at my reaction.
“Don’t stop.” Silas quivered and his chest lifted in a sharp, enormous breath, only to push it out in a burst. “Fuck!”
His face twisted into one that could mimic agony, but it was clearly ecstasy, and those interesting blue eyes slammed shut. His cock pulsed and spurts of thick, warm liquid pooled in my mouth as I slowed to a stop. This time his painful grip in my hair got me to yield, and as he finished coming, I swallowed.
“Holy,” he groaned, long and low, “shit.”
He retreated from my mouth, but didn’t release me. I had no choice but to remain on my knees in front of him. It was probably unintentional, the logical side of my brain said. He needed to catch his breath and let the last of the orgasm drain away, but I couldn’t stand the implied submission. Up until ten seconds ago, I’d been the one in charge, and I wasn’t comfortable with how quickly things had shifted.
Fuck, my scalp was smarting, and I shook my head, breaking his hold. As I rubbed the tender skin, he leaned down, grabbed his pants, and drew them back up. His fly was left undone. His strong hands startled me, scooped under my arms, and lifted me to my feet.
“Are you okay?” His eyes were full of concern, and his hand covered mine, helping to rub away the pain.
“I’m fine.” I pushed his hand off, not needing his help.
But as soon as I brushed him away, his arms locked around me, holding me against him. Embracing me. The weak part of me liked the feeling of his strength surrounding me, but I couldn’t allow it.
“Hey,” I said, tilting my head away from his kiss at the last second so his lips hit my cheek. “Thanks so much for . . . today.”
He slowed to a halt, and when he blinked, his gaze grew suspicious. “You’re welcome.”
“The tattoo is beautiful.” The skepticism in him seemed to grow into distrust. Fuck, I needed a decent exit strategy. “And this was a lot of fun, but it’s getting late.”
“It is. We should probably grab dinner.” His statement was completely loaded. An obvious test.
“I don’t think we should.”
A sliver of hurt flashed through him, then was gone instantly, replaced with cool indifference. His hand slid up my spine and curled around until it could cup my face. His thumb brushed across my cheek, and his evaluating stare rooted me in place.
“I’m sorry if I was rough. You’re really aggressive, and it’s hot as hell, but it kind of threw me.”
He was worried that I wanted to bail because I was afraid of him? Hardly. And . . . I wished I could stay. My gaze floated to the unmade bed and I glared at what I couldn’t have. My gut said I could fuck him. The risk was minimal, but then my untrustworthy gut had been wrong on one very big occasion.
“It’s not that,” I said. The best way not to get caught in a lie, was to not have to tell one in the first place. “Look, I just got out of something serious. I’m not looking for anything right now.”
“It’s dinner. A conversation over a meal. You owe me, mouth raper.”
I felt my eyes widen in surprised amusement. “Excuse me, mouth raper? Pretty sure I remember you telling me not to stop.”
His eyes gleamed. “You misunderstood. I said don’t, and stop.”