Page 128 of Their Wicked Ways

Almost.

Shaking off my reverie, I focused on Jett to see how he was doing.

He was being good and sitting still, but he wasn’t relaxed. His body was tense, his breaths were shallow and fast, and his inner walls kept squeezing around me.

“Feeling good?” I murmured in his ear.

“Mmmmmm,” he moaned and let his head fall back against my shoulder. “Too good.”

“Too good?” I teased.

“Your cock is awesome.” He clenched, squeezing my length in rhythmic little pulses.

“Yeah?” I nipped at his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“Tell you?” he asked dreamily.

“Yes. Tell me how good my cock feels. Tell me how much you love having it in you like this.” Slowly, I slid my hand up his body and loosely circled his neck.

I was about to ask if he was okay with the move when he let out a loud groan and pressed forward, pushing his neck against my palm. I tightened my grip. Not enough to cut off his air, but enough to make it harder to pull in a full breath.

“Tell me how good my cock feels,” I rumbled in his ear.

“So good,” he said, his voice thready and strained. “Love having it in me. Want you in me all the time.”

My heart squeezed, and my throat tightened. He had no idea what he did to me when he said stuff like that.

“Yeah you do.” I squeezed his throat a bit tighter, shifting so I was pressing down on his arteries, slowing the blood flow instead of restricting his air.

“Holy shit,” he moaned.

“You like that?”

“Green.”

He’d spent our entire conversation randomly squeezing and clenching my dick with his inner walls, but the longer I held on to his throat, the more he squeezed.

“Ez,” he gasped, shifting on my lap and wiggling impatiently. “Please.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

He let out a choked sound. Not quite a gasp, but not a cry.

“I’ve got you,” I said in his ear, loosening my hold on his throat so he didn’t get overwhelmed. “Relax for me. Use your colors if you need to.”

He moaned again and gripped the arm I still had wrapped around his middle so tightly his fingers cracked.

I could block out how good it felt to be inside him. The warmth, the little squeezes. They felt amazing, but it was more background pleasure. Like a massage or the sensation of sliding into a warm bath at the end of a long day.

But feeling him moving over me was another story altogether.

“Do you need more?” I put my lips next to his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want to come,” he said petulantly.

“Yeah?” I increased the pressure on his throat the slightest bit.

“Yes!”

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