Page 76 of If Only In Our Dreams

My hand tangled in the auburn waves on the top of his head, scrambling for support as my balls tapped his lips and bliss exploded behind my eyelids.

When he pulled off, spit clung from the tip of my cock connecting to his lower lip. Ben’s eyes werehungry. “You’ve got the perfect sized dick,” he told me. The praise lit me up from the inside out. His big hand fanned along my length, demonstrating without words just howsmallit looked in his grip. And then he stroked me, tight and rough, and deliberate—and my brain about fell out of my ears.

“Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben,” I chanted his name, legs kicking out as my hole clenched tight. It’d been so long since the last time I’d been touched. And even then, it’d never felt like this. Electric all the way down to my bones. There wasn’t a single thing I didn’t like about Ben Montgomery.

Not a single fucking thing.

“Shhh,” Ben urged, sliding up the bed so he was hovering over me, my cock clutched loosely in his grip. My legs trembled, balls drawn up tight. And then he winked. Because he was simply the hottest human to ever exist. I made a garbled sound and Ben tutted disapprovingly.

He hadn’t even moved his hand again, but it felt like he was.

My hips stuttered, trying to fuck into him, but he kept his grip gentle enough my movements did jack shit. Like my dick was a leash, and he was holding me in place.

“You need to be quiet, little songbird,” Ben hummed, leaning down so our lips brushed with every word. “Can you do that for me?”

I didn’t know if I could.

I didn’t want to lie.

“Is that too hard?” Ben asked, voice low and sugary sweet. “Is that too hard for my pretty little bird? Can’t stay quiet, can you, baby? You have such pretty notes to sing.”

I nodded jerkily, once again trying to fuck Ben’s fist and failing.

He released my cock as quickly as he’d grabbed it, hands gripping my hip hard enough to bruise as he shoved them into the mattress. “Did I say you could move?” he asked, voice still sugary sweet, though there was a threat laced within it.

“No,” I managed, surprised by how croaky and needy I sounded.

“Are you going to stay still if I let you go?” Ben’s lips brushed mine again.

“Yes.”

He released my hip, long fingers playing at the sensitive skin that joined my legs and pelvis. They skimmed along the tattoos there, sliding low, a single finger tracing between my aching balls, up, up, up to the tip of my leaking dick.

“What a good boy,” Ben murmured, still not kissing me. “So wet for me, aren’t you?”

I nodded jerkily.

“Should we make you more wet?”

Again, I nodded.

“I think you can be quiet,” Ben promised. “In fact, I know you can.”

When Ben grabbed my dick once more his pace was relentless. Up and down, tight, slick, scratchy in all the right ways. I held my hips still because every time they so much as flinched Ben would tut at me again and slacken his grip till I apologized.

Staying quiet was half the battle. My eyes rolled back, my tongue curling as I gasped and shivered, so focused on not moaning that I forgot for a moment how this had even started in the first place. My dick leaked and leaked and leaked, growing wet just the way he’d promised it would. Like he was squeezing every drop to the surface till my skin was tacky and his hand was messy.

What felt like an eon later, voice low and thready, Ben murmured against my lips one final demand.

“Come,” he said, like he fully expected me to do it on command. Like it was a trick and I was his puppy—and he’d trained me to obey. I sobbed quietly, balls drawing up tight as I did as I was told, hot cum spilling into his fist. He squeezed tighter somehow. Milking me through it, over and over and over till my skin was raw just the way I liked, and my eyes had crossed.

“You like a little pain, huh?” Ben cooed against the shell of my ear. “That’s what you told me.”Schlick, schlick, schlick.Ben twisted tighter around my cock. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt—and it felt…so fuckinggood. “Over coffee,” Ben added, voice still sugary sweet and threatening. “Like you thought I wouldn’t remember. Like I wasn’t paying attention to every twitch of your expression. Like I wasn’t thinking about pulling your nipples till you cried, or fisting your ass till it’s pink and gaping and sore.”

“Fuck,” my voice cracked, a second orgasm building, building, building. I’d never come twice in a row before. Never knew I could.

“Looking at me with that smirk, and those eyes—” Ben bit my ear, his hot breath tickling in a way that made my blood sing. “Like I wasn’t imagining torturing you till you made a mess all over the dining room table.”

The second orgasm hit me like a freight train. No more cum came out. But it arched through me, over and over and over. Andstill, Ben toyed with me. Digging his thumb into my slit like if he teased me hard enough he could force a third out of my cock.

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