Page 60 of Off Balance

He… He really did that.

My stupid, broken brain is making this a bigger deal than it probably is. But as soon as his mouth was on me, I had this epiphany. A stupid, obvious, ridiculous epiphany that had my eyes welling up over a fucking blowjob.

Who cries when they're getting their dick sucked?!

Someone who hasn't been touched in a long time, that's who. As many times as I've gotten down on my knees, jacked, and been fucked by Emile, I'm somehow just realizing he hasn't reciprocated even once. Hell, I think I've only managed to cum half the times we've been together, and that's if I'm lucky to get a moment to do it myself afterwards. How fucking pathetic is that?

It's not like I have unrealistic or unfair expectations. I don't expect someone to do anything they aren't comfortable with. I made the choice and agreed willingly to anything that's transpired between us. In the beginning, I thought it was justa matter of comfort. We didn't talk much about his sexuality, and he seemed a bit inexperienced. I didn't want to push him or make things awkward. But then along the way, I became complacent. Used to being left unsatisfied. Forgotten.

Except Emile didn't forget me. He wasn't unaware.

He just didn't care.

Now to have this beast of a man bent over me and showing me more care and attention in this one blowjob than I've received in more than a year…

It's overwhelming. It feels too big inside my chest, and I don't know what to do with it.

So I do the only thing I know I can do, and that's to make sure I suck his dick so good, he won't be able to chase me when I eventually run out of here to process these feelings in private.

"Cam? Are you?—"

No.Nope.This isn't happening.The hottest daddy on earth isn't going to witness me cry over a blowjob.Antoni would never let me live it down.

I sit up and scoot to the edge of the counter, pulling him into me. Before he can attempt another word, I crash my lips to his and lick inside his mouth to check for any remaining traces of my cum on his tongue. Dom groans, the deep rumble vibrating through my teeth. I push my hand beneath his waistband, but he grabs my wrist before I can.Oh.

My fingertips dip just low enough to touch the sticky, wet evidence that Domreallyenjoyed that. He got off on me getting off.

If that isn't the sexiest fucking thing I've ever experienced, I don't know what is. It’s almost enough to get me hard all over again.

I smirk at the embarrassed look on his face and pull my fingers back, sucking them into my mouth one by one, tasting his excitement. There's a noticeable twitch in the front of his pants.

Dom lets out a heavy breath. "You're going to be the death of me."

Pulling him down for one more kiss, I mentally calculate how long I think it will be before he starts to pull away. Once I leave his apartment, will he regret this? We've already played the regret game and yet, we keep coming back for more. How long before I can't take it anymore?

Dom shoves his hands under my thighs and hoists me into his arms, making me shriek in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to clean up, then putting you to bed. It's late, and you have a performance tomorrow."

"I can shower at home."

"Stay here tonight. Save yourself the extra half hour of drive time."

"We’re having sleepovers already?"

"Guess so."

"You realize I can walk, right?"

He grunts, but keeps his hold on me, walking me through the apartment and to the bathroom. He doesn't even put me down toturn the water on or take his pants off. He doesn't put me down to step under the spray and adjust the shower head, so it's not pummeling my face. He holds me under the warm water, licking and kissing every inch of expose skin he can reach, kissing me until I'm breathless and needy. It's only after we're under the shower spray long enough for me to I grow hard again that he puts me down. We soap each other from head to toe, and he makes me come again with his hand wrapped around my cock and whispered affirmations that I'll be the death of him.

The incessant buzzing of Dom's phone tears me out of the deepest sleep I think I've ever experienced in my life. Every bone in my body is leaden, unwilling to leave the warm cocoon I've been wrapped up in all night.

Dom.

The realization that last night wasn't just some fever dream is confirmed when the arm around my waist tightens, and he pulls me firmer into his wide chest. His scruff tickles my neck when he buries his face and inhales me like a much-needed cup of coffee. I stiffen in his hold, momentarily worried that, in his sleepy daze, he might not realize who he has in his bed. I don't want to witness his reaction when he remembers what happened. So I close my eyes and will my mask in place so the inevitable "it won't happen again" conversation can happen. Again.

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