Page 59 of The Silencer

“Tatum,” he grinds out, and I moan.

“Anthony. You aren’t dense. You know what your hands on me does to my dick. I can’t help it. I’m a horny boy, okay?”

He flips me over, my dick slapping my stomach as I stare up at him with wide eyes. His gaze dips down to my hard cock, and he rolls his lips between his teeth.

“Did you get hard with Bane?” he asks, an angry bite to his tone.

“When I thought it was you, I did.”

He places his hand next to my head and leans toward me, his bare chest too erotic to not touch. I press my palms to his warm skin and drag my fingers down his pecs. His skin flushes around his neck, betraying his cool outward demeanor.

He likes it. Likes me touching him. Not that he’ll ever admit it. He’d never do that.

His gaze meets mine before falling to my mouth.

“You’re such a pretty little liar.”

My fingers stop at the edge of his slacks and curl under the waistband.

“I’m not lying,” I whisper. “I want what I can’t have. It’s an issue.”

He blinks and edges slightly closer.

“And I can’t have you, right? Because you’re straight?” I add.

My hand drifts a little lower, rubbing against his dick, sadly still in his pants. It’s soft against my hand, but god, what I wouldn’t give to see it hard again. Feel it straining against my body, sliding over my tongue. Fucking my throat.

I peer up at Anthony, still hovering over me, not moving as I rub his dick through the fabric of his pants. I feel it start to lengthen, hardening between my fingers. The sensation causes me to let out a shaky exhale.

“You want this?” he asks, and I swallow and nod.

Of course I do. I fucking want it.

“Earn it,” he bites out.

I don’t know what that means, but I’m also not a quitter, so with shaky fingers, I unzip his pants and drag them down the curve of his ass. The feel of his muscles against my palms causes me to arch up into him, the friction of my oversensitive dick on his bare skin making me tremble.

My hands squeeze his flexing glutes as I drag his semi-hard dick against my own. I lean up, pressing my face against his neck and mouth at it, tasting the very essence of him.

Manly, rough, sex.

If I could bottle up his pheromones and keep them, I would. I’d inhale them daily. Like a drug.

I grind up against him, my cock rubbing frantically against his warm skin as I suck on his neck. I’m sure I’ll leave a mark, just like Bane did to me. But before I can, he wraps his hand around the front of my neck and holds me down, his eyes flashing with something I don’t recognize.

Something dangerous.

I feel my Adam’s apple bob against the palm of his hand as he keeps me immobile, his dick slowly growing against my own.

“Please,” I rasp, trying desperately to inhale air. “Tell me what you want.”

He swallows and his eyes flash, but he doesn’t respond.

“I’ll—let me get you off. Please. I want you to fuck my throat. I want it.”

He blinks and then he lets go of me, not moving as I wiggle down the bed until I’m right against his cock. I’m hanging off the bed, my back bowed awkwardly, but he doesn’t assist me, just keeps himself propped up as I grab on to his ass and drag his cock into my mouth. If I thought that he was hard before, he wasn’t. Not entirely. His cock continues to grow as I suck and sputter, my neck cramping as I awkwardly bob my head between his body and the mattress.

But he doesn’t help make it easier, just lets me take his dick like the slut I apparently am. I’m gagging on him, my spit rolling down my chin and cheeks as I fight for his orgasm, trying to earn it. But he’s immobile, not helping me at all.

---