My breath comes out in a whoosh. “Oh, fuck.”
He smirks, and squeezes my neck tighter.
“Turn around.”
He loosens his grip on me, and I can’t think of doing anything else but what he says. Okay, so this clarifies that there’s a good chance that I’ll be the one getting fucked in this relationship…or whatever this is.
And I am so here for it.
“Hands flat on the wall,” he commands.
I slap my hands onto the wall as he grabs my hips and kicks my legs apart.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my pants, and he tugs them down until they’re stretched across my thighs. His hand rubs against my left thigh, right where the mermaid tattoo is, before traveling higher, over my ass cheek, and reaching around to my front.
My dick is almost painfully hard now, and I lower my head to watch as his hands slip across my abdomen, one grabbing onto my dick, the other my balls. A guttural groan escapes my mouth.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he reprimands, squeezing my dick almost painfully. “Not a fucking sound from you.”
Holy fuck.
I bite down on my bottom lip and let out a broken breath. I have never, ever been submissive, but damn, if this isn’t something I like.
“Good boy,” Elliot says in my ear, and then his dominant hand slowly pumps me. Pleasure shoots through my entire body as I watch his fingers move up and down my thick, straining cock.
I’m sweating. It’s rolling down my fucking temples and onto my cheeks. Elliot is pressed against my back, his breath tickling my ear as he breathes.
He’s not even out of breath. He’s always so in control. What would it take for him to come undone like I am right now? I want to see that so fucking bad.
“See,” he says, his lips moving against my earlobe. “This is me jacking you off. Do you feel the difference?”
I gulp and nod, but he can’t see it because my head hangs like an anvil between my shoulders as I watch his soft, long fingers work me over the edge.
I’m huffing, my fingernails digging into the wall as he rolls my balls in his other hand. I’m so fucking close.
“No, you don’t,” Elliot mutters, and he stops, his thumb and forefinger pinching the tip of my dick. “You come when I say you can.”
A whimper escapes me, and I slam my eyes shut because who does he think I am? I have like zero self-control. Didn’t he see me behind that hay bale? That’s my life in a nutshell.
I. Cannot. Wait.
As if he can read my thoughts, he says, “Oh yes, you can.”
Then he starts pumping me again, faster this time. I’m swallowing my moans because I worry he’ll punish me more if I let one escape.
Why does that make this even hotter?
Maybe he’ll spank me. Tie me up and fuck my ass.
Yeah, I am totally a bottom.
I’m rutting into his hands now. Desperate. Aching. Needy.
“Come,” he rasps, and my dick hears his command and can’t help but obey. It erupts almost painfully as come shoots everywhere. It hits my stomach, his hands, the wall.
He strokes me through my orgasm until I sag heavily, my forehead pressed against the wall, and then his fingers release me as he steps back.
“I expect you to clean up your mess.”