Page 67 of Reluctantly You

My fingers tighten on him and I feel the flush spreading across his body and warming his skin.

“Because that’s what you do, right? It’s not gay if its someone on their knees getting you off?”

He shoves at me, but I just pull him closer, his body flush against mine. I can feel the frantic pace of his breathing as I press against him, the flutter of his heart against his skin.

“You’re not getting near anyone, but me,” I hiss, the alcohol going straight to my head. I’ve only had a shot or two, nothing major. Doesn’t really matter because fuck if I’m not acting like a possessive asshole right now. But I’m not going to watch him leave with a cute little twink when I’mright here.

“I’m not doing anything with you,” he spits, but his body isn’t lying. Even as he says it, he leans into me and I can feel his cock hardening in his pants.

“Want me to get on my knees then?” I ask, my voice low and taunting. “I can do that, Mitchell. I can suck your dick, show you what you’ve been missing all this time, you little slut.”

He shudders at my words, and I’m fucking done. I know what he wants, even if he won’t say it. I can read his body from a mile away.

I tug him forward, down a dimly lit hallway, doors lining each side. At the end is a burly bouncer with a shaved head and a fierce face. When I reach into my pocket, handing him several bills, he grins at me.

“In you go, fuckers,” he says and lets me push open a door to a cluttered office space.

“What the fuck is this?” Mitchell asks, his eyes swiveling around the room.

With a flick of my wrist, I lock the door and lean into him, pulling off his hat and setting it on his head backward. Fuck, that’s dangerous. He looks even better like that.

“Why the hat?”

“How did you get us in here?” he retorts.

“Trying to hide from someone? From yourself?”

“How often do you use this place?” he asks, and I grin at him.

“I know the bouncer and I refuse to get on my knees in the filthy bathroom.”

His lips twitch and he glowers angrily.

“I didn’t say yes to this. I didn’t say you could touch me.”

“Is that so?” I growl, leaning into him. His breath hitches, and I feel his cock pressing against my groin, straining toward me, desperate, needy. “Your dick seems to think otherwise.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, and I move even closer, still not touching, but allowing the tip of his cock to glide across me, taunting him slowly.

“You want me on my knees?” I ask, and his eyes droop, lust thick in the air. “Tell me you want it, and I’ll do it.”

I want to see him break, want to see him beg. I want itall. I can fucking taste it.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” he asks, his voice rough.

“Because I want to see you come unglued. Again. I want to see the cockslut you try to hide?—”

He groans softly and then swallows. “Fine.”

I smirk at him and lower myself to my knees, undoing the button of his jeans and tugging them down his thick thighs.

Fuck, he’s so built, strong.

I love that despite all this muscle and brass, he’s such a needy little bottom.

For me. And me only.

His pants pool at his ankles, and then I drag his boxers down next, his cock popping out, nearly smacking me in the face with its size.

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