Page 118 of Unspoken Rules

“Come here,” I tell him, gesturing for him to climb on top of me. He straddles my waist and I pull him down for a kiss. “You’re perfect, you know that? Everything you do for me is so fucking good, Bryson. Don’t ever doubt that.”

He nods, and I let go of him. He sits up, looking down at me. “I’ve never done this before.”

I smirk and rest my hands behind my head. I’m so going to enjoy this.

“Take your time. Go slow. Do not do anything to cause yourself pain.”

He nods, shifting back. His balls brush over my cock. He looks scared. “How do I—”

“Grab my cock. Find your ass. And sit on it. However you need to do it to get me inside you.”

His eyes widen, but he nods again. His teeth latch onto his bottom lip as he takes my dick in his hand, shifting around. Just his hand around me feels so damn good. And when he swipes me along his crack to find the right spot, I groan. Once he’s there, he pushes down and the first inch slides in easily.

“Go slow,” I remind him. I’m itching to touch him, but I love watching him figure this out. He goes a little deeper, letting go of me with his hand and placing them on my chest. So fucking slowly he eases himself onto me.

I grab the bottle of lube, pour some in my hand, and go for his dick. I lather him up and stroke him slowly; enough to distract him. Make him feel good so he can relax. With my thumb, I massage beneath the head of his cock because I’ve noticed he’s really sensitive there. I bet I could make him come just like this.

His eyes fall shut, and he slides further and further down until he’s fully seated on me. He sighs heavily and just sits there for a minute.

“Move when you want, baby. There’s no rush.” Running my free hand along his thigh, I keep stroking him with my other.

He waits a few seconds before moving. Lifting up and sliding back down. His nails bite into my skin, and he hisses as he rocks forward.

One of our phones vibrates, but I ignore it. He doesn’t even seem to notice. His moans fill the room and I’m careful to keep him on edge. He’ll keep fucking me if he comes, but I don’t want him to come yet. I want to push this out as long as I can so he can enjoy it more. I want him begging me to let him come. Want him desperate for it. Aching and pleading for permission.

The vibrating continues and a glance at the end table shows Bryson’s phone lit up. It’s his ex calling. Annoyance hits me, wondering why Bryson hasn’t blocked his number yet. He may not be aware, but he isn’t the only one who gets jealous. I just handle it differently. I don’t like knowing he could still be talking to his ex. Or that he could be talking to anyone. I try not to think about the fact that he still chats with a guy he went on a date on. After what I did, I have no right to be jealous about him talking to anyone. Which is why I don’t ask him about it.

We agreed to be exclusive, but part of me feels he’s better off with someone else. Someone he doesn’t have to hide with. Someone who doesn’t come with risks.

When the phone lights up again, this asshole calling for the fourth time, I notice Bryson is getting distracted by it now. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone interrupt Bryson riding my cock.

“Just shut it off,” he says, grinding down on my dick.

Shutting it off would make sense. But I have a better idea.

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

He stops moving, chest heaving. He licks his lips, and says, “Yes.”

I reach for the phone, grinning when I see it’s a video call. I was only expecting to tell the guy off, but now? Now this is even better.

Thankful for the preview of the camera before answering, I make sure to aim it in a way that you can certainly see what we’re doing, but not Bryson’s face.

Maybe this is immature, but oh well.

“Cole…” Bryson says carefully. I grin before I press the answer button.

“About time you—” The d-bag ex’s words are cut off the moment he realizes what he’s looking at.

“Oh shit, sorry,” I say, tapping the button to turn the camera to my face. But it’s too late. He already got a good shot of Bryson sitting on my cock. My hand wrapped around his.

Oops.

A quick look at Bryson tells me he’s unsure of this, but not angry. Nervous definitely.

“Who the fuck are you?” Daniel barks at me.

He’s a good-looking guy. About Bryson’s age. He’s too pretty though. He looks like a frat guy who spikes drinks to get laid.

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