Page 51 of Man On

"Now tell me you don't want me?"

My throat bobs again as I swallow harshly, and he nudges my neck with his nose. "Say it," he taunts.

"I don't w-want you." My words come out choppy and weak, even to my ears.

Noah hums, then nips at my neck again, this time harder, before soothing it with a lick.

Oh good Lord, please help me. Please, please, please.

"Please what?" Noah asks against my throat. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I drop my chin to my chest to cover my Adam's apple, since he seems to like it so much, but he takes a hand off the wall and grips my chin with it. "Please what, Lane?" he repeats.

"Please…"

Let me go. Never let go. Give me more. Get off me. Go away. Bite me again. Touch me. Kiss me. Please. Dear Jesus, I've lost my mind.

"Tell me you want me to touch you."

"I don't want you to touch me."

Noah pulls my chin up harder, smirking. Because he knows. Of course he knows.

He lowers his face so our noses are almost touching.

"I want to touch you,” he confesses. The low, rumbly tone of his voice sends a shiver through me that begins and ends with my erection.

Noah chuckles darkly as my body responds to him, and the sound doesn't help. At the second obvious throb of my dick, Noah takes his right hand off the wall. Gripping my chin in his left, his free hand roams across and over my chest and down my stomach. At the waistband of my track pants, he pushes his fingers under the hem, teasing the skin and making my hips buck. Then he removes his fingers and trails them over, down, and around the bulge of my erection.

"So long," he purrs.

"W-Why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice strained.

"Because I'm curious," he says simply, casually, as though he isn't wrecking my entire being right now.

I want to be upset or incensed that he's playing with me out of mere curiosity. I know I'll probably have an entire breakdown over this later. But right now, my only remaining brain cells live in the wrong head.

When his hand cups my hard length through the fabric of my pants, I moan out loud. He squeezes and strokes me through my pants, and I almost think it would be worth burning in hell just to feel his skin against mine. I wriggle against him, although I'm not really sure what I'm trying to accomplish.

I should make him stop. I want him to stop.

I don't though. God help me, I really don’t.

When his hand slips into my pants, and the heat of his hand wraps around my bare skin, I let out a whine that doesn't sound as if it came from me. My body lurches, and Noah must think I'm trying to escape. His hand releases its grip on my chin, but his fingers splay out over the bottom half of my face, pushing my head back against the wall. He holds me firmly as his hand strokes me slowly. I watch his eyes, but he’s watching what his hand is doing to me. His thumb swipes over my head and I groan, my mouth opening just enough for Noah to take advantage. Two of his fingers push into my mouth as he holds my face against the wall and begins to jack me relentlessly. My breaths increase, harder and faster in time with the movement of his hand.

I hate myself for how good it feels to have someone else touch me. He's so rough, much rougher than I ever am on myself, but, oh god?—

"Noah!" I rasp.

"You gonna come for me, little brother?"

"Oh ffffff— Yes!"

"Say it."

"I-I'm going to come for you." I can’t breathe. “Oh, God?—"

"Dirty up that mouth like I'm dirtying up your cock. I want to hear you curse for me and tell me?—"

“Fuuuck,” I choke out weakly. “I'm… I’m… commmiiinng," I whine, using whatever air remains in my lungs.

---