He glared at me.
“I asked you a question, Julian.”
He didn’t answer.
“Fine.”
I let go of his cock and sat up.
“No!”
I grinned down at him as he made a frustrated sound. “No, you don’t want this, or no, don’t stop?”
“Don’t stop.”
Keeping my grip on his wrists, I yanked his shorts down so his cock sprang free.
It was gorgeous. Long and thick with a prominent vein and a swollen head. He manscaped, and his pubes were neatly trimmed and shaped.
My mouth watered. I’d sucked a few dicks in my day, but I’d never had this overwhelming urge to put my mouth on one before.
Shaking off that thought, I stroked his shaft in earnest, keeping my grip tight and my rhythm steady.
I wanted to keep edging him, to hear him beg some more, but I was too far gone.
I was likely to blow in my pants if I kept teasing him, and I couldn’t let that happen.
Couldn’t let him know how much I was enjoying this. How much it got me off.
He was a panting, blubbering mess as I jerked him, flicking my gaze between his face and his cock.
His dick pulsed in my hand, and I gave him one last hard stroke.
He came hard, his back arching, his eyes rolling back in his head, and the sexiest cry falling from his lips as he shot over my hand and all over his shirt.
“That’s it, slut. Come for me.” I kept stroking him, keeping my grip tight and my pace fast.
He writhed under me, moaning and grunting like a whore.
I fucking loved it.
“Too much.” He jerked out of my hand.
I stopped stroking him and sat back on his thighs.
His cheeks were flushed red, his eyes glassy and shining. A tiny smile tilted his lips as he lay there, panting and basking.
Fuck, he was gorgeous.
“Good little slut.” I dragged a finger through a streak of cum on his pubes and brought it to his lips. “Suck.”
He did, smiling happily.
Fuck, that look did things to me. It was sweet and trusting.
I didn’t know what to do with that.
Hatred, anger, those I could work with.