Page 38 of Off Balance

“I need to get more furniture,” he says, finally breaking the tense silence. “Only having a bed in here is dangerous.”

I can’t help but laugh, even though I’m not in a laughing mood.

He’s going to reject me. I can see it in his eyes. He’s going to tell me we can’t do this, that he doesn’t want me.

I suppose I should be thankful he didn’t fuck me first, but honestly, I want so badly for him to give me what I need that I’d deal with the aftermath.

My nerves make me bold. Desperate.

“This works just as well as a bed,” I say, dropping my voice to a purposefully husky tone.

His brow furrows, and I huff out a real laugh.

Leaning back on one arm, I push my free hand into my boxers. Dom’s eyes go wide, his gaze stuck on the movements of my hand beneath the fabric of his shorts. I stroke myself slowly.

“Cam—”

Don’t reject me. Don’t reject me.

I ignore whatever he was going to say and pull myself out, pushing the boxers beneath my smooth balls, and letting him get a very close up view of just how badly I need this.

The way Dom’s mouth drops open, a pained expression clouding his eyes, spurs me on. I make a meal out of pleasuring myself less than a foot from his face.

Pressing my toes into his thighs, I use the leverage to push up, thrusting into my fist.

“I know you want to touch me, Dom,” I say, panting. His dark stare is doing dangerous things to me. Copious amounts of pre-cum is spurting from my slit, sliding down over my fist. The sounds my hand is making on my cock are wet and salacious, coupled with my moans and shaky voice trying to coax Dom into making this bad decision with me.

“Touch me, daddy. Feel how smooth and wet I am for you.”

A rumble comes from deep in his chest, and whatever tiny amount of color there was in his irises is overtaken by fathomless black pupils. His fingers dig into my thighs, and it shoots a lightning bold of pleasure up my spine.

“Oh, God, Dom. Do you want me to come for you?”

He nods slowly, looking completely out of it, like a shark that’s smelled blood for the first time.

“Show me your cock,” I beg.

Dom stands between my legs and drops his shorts. His heavy length falls against the inside of my thigh, and I fucking lose it. My orgasm hits me so hard I have to clench my eyes shut, and I cry out harshly.

I know I’m making a mess, but I just can’t stop. Cum sprays everywhere—all over my hand, my stomach and chest, my thighs, the counter beneath me, and all over Dom’s lower stomach and crotch.

His cock is coated in my cum, and the sight makes me pulse, another few drops of sticky, white semen spurting from me.

“Fuck,” I whimper.

Dom’s face is indiscernible. He’s shocked, that’s obvious. But is he shocked in a good way or a bad way, because he is giving me nothing. He’s standing stock still, looking down at the mess I made like he’s at a loss for what to do.

Not wanting him to be mad at me, I tentatively lean forward and run my fingertips over the generous length of him, spreading my cum up his shaft. Keeping my eyes on his like one would a wild animal, I carefully wrap my hand around him and stroke. His hands come back down on my hips, holding onto me with a gentle grip while he grits his teeth and thrusts into my hand. He grunts, his head falling forward onto my shoulder as his cock pulses aggressively. His hot load joins mine, and his contribution to the mess makes me feel better.

I stroke him through his orgasm, not wanting it to end, fearful of the post-nut clarity bound to hit him any second. It's hitting me, hard. I'm terrified of what I've just done, of the consequences. I like Dom, I don't want him to leave me. I don't want to ruin our relationship or make things more awkward between us. Dwayne and I are finally in a comfortable place, and I've just shot my load all over his brother. I'm in a relationship and shouldn't feel this satisfied by someone else. And I definitely shouldn't want to do it again.

The silence grows awkward. Dom backs up, putting space between us, surveying the aftermath of what we've done. His expression is unreadable while he stares down at the mess we created like he isn't sure what to do.

Determined not to let this cause problems, I reach for a hand towel and pass it to him. He doesn't move. Fuck, he's going to start panicking. How do I show him this is going to be okay?

Reaching forward, I use the towel to wipe the worst of the mess from his lower stomach and hip. His cock dangles heavily between his legs, looking menacing even in its flaccid state. It twitches when I swipe the towel up the inside of his thigh.

"See? Like nothing happened." I try to keep my voice soft and steady, but it comes out a bit hoarser than I intend. Now is not the time to get emotional! But when he slowly nods his head, accepting my words to dismiss what just happened between us, my throat clogs and heat builds behind my eyes.

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