Page 97 of Reluctantly You

“What the fuck, Gideon?” I grunt, and he stands up, running his hands up my shirt, my skin breaking out in goosebumps as he goes.

“I knew you wouldn’t take this willingly, but I want to give it to you all the same. I want to make you fucking scream.”

I bite back a low groan at the thought that I have no idea what he has planned. Is he going to fuck me? Going to split me wide open?

Oh god. Oh my fucking god.

His fingers ruck up my shirt and a second later, he rips it from my body, tossing it aside.

“But if you really don’t want it, you tell me, and I’ll stop. I’ll fucking stop. I promise.”

I open my mouth to tell him to let me go, to tell him to unclasp me from the bed, but nothing comes out. Nothing but a low moan.

“Fuck. Yes. I knew it. I fucking knew you’d want this. You want me to take it from you. You won’t admit it, but you want it all the same.”

His fingers curl around my wrists and he roughly pulls them behind my back, tying them there with something soft. Silk. A tie.

“Anytime you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” he reminds me and then his hands are pulling my shorts down my spread legs, getting stuck halfway down my thighs.

“This won’t do,” he grumbles and then a moment later, he’s cutting them off, the snick of the scissors meeting my ears.

“What the fuck, Gideon?” I grumble—again—but he just chuckles.

“Just want you naked for this. I want you completely bare for me.”

I shift on the bed, my cheek pressed to his soft sheets. My cock is nestled against the cool fabric and I arch up slightly, dragging it across it, making it leak even more.

But before I can continue to rut, to try and get myself off on my own, he reaches between my legs and pulls my hips up and my cock down, exposing it to him fully.

“Yes. Yes. That’s better. Such a pretty cock.”

I groan when his fingers trace up the exposed underside of my dick and around my balls before dragging up my ass.

“What the fuck are you going to do?” I ask, my voice hoarse, wanting to know but also not. I don’t know if I want to know.

Like he said. I want him to take it.

“I saw the way you blushed when Emery spoke about eating ass. So I’m going to eat your ass, Mitchell. I’m going to eat it until that needy cock comes.”

My eyes screw shut and I try like hell to tell myself to make this stop, but the thought of it, his tongue pushing inside of me, eating me, moaning as he tastes me makes me desperate.

I want it.

I want so much more than I’ve ever admitted.

I want more than I ever thought I could.

“Do it,” I rasp, and he grabs on to both of my cheeks and spreads them.

“I will. I’ll do it so well you’re going to be chanting my name.”

I don’t know what he sees or if he even likes it, he just massages my ass gently before his teeth sink roughly into one globe.

I cry out, the pain snaking through me as my back arches off the mattress, my legs trying to move but are unable to, still restrained.

“Good. You take it, my little slut. You take it like a good boy.”

“Fuck you,” I manage to hiss, but only receive another rough bite on the opposite cheek in response.

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