Page 31 of What We Broke

Still restraining me, Jesse’s mouth starts at one knee and moves his way up my thigh. The kisses are soft, almost ghost-like, but goose bumps dot my skin and anticipation has my body humming.

He does this over and over, alternating legs, going all the way to my groin, to work his way back down again.

My dick hurts, straining and desperate, the blood rushing down my body at an unbelievable pace. “Jesse. Please,” I groan, trying and failing to move my hands.

“Please what?”

“Touch me,” I pant. “Or let me touch you. Fuck.”

He lets go of my hands, but before I can reach for him, he shakes his head. “Uh uh. Keep them beside you.”

And because I’m done for, I fist the comforter with both hands and wait.

“Is this what you want?” he taunts, rolling my balls in his hand. “Or maybe it’s this?”

Without warning, Jesse grips my cock and covers it with his mouth.

“Fuck,” I moan letting my head fall back. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

He pulls off with a pop. “Rule number one: don’t move your hands. And rule number two: don’t fucking come.”

The man might be on his knees for me, sucking my cock, but right now it’s me and my body made to serve him. Despite the default urge to rush to my orgasm, his demand that I deny myself release is somehow the bigger prize.

“God, you weren’t lying were you,” he says gruffly, one hand on my leaking cock, the other pinching my nipple. “Your body really is a sight.”

I’m a live wire under both his touch and his compliments.

“I bet you’re even prettier when you come.”

My hips buck at his words and I want to show him just how fucking pretty I can be.

“Easy,” he coos. “Patience.”

His mouth is back on me, lips sliding up and down my shaft, his tongue rolling around the head. His big hand effortlessly rolls my balls, and the tips of two fingers dip lower and press against my taint.

It feels like heaven and hell and everything in between.

“Jesse,” I call out. “I’m gonna come.”

It wasn’t like I’d never jerked off with another guy before. I enjoy foreplay just as much as the fucking, but whatever this is with Jesse, it will ruin me for every man who comes after him.

Sliding his mouth off my cock, he licks his lips before reaching for me. With a hand on the back of my neck, he slams his lips against mine.

This kiss is nothing like the one we shared in the kitchen. It’s not the tentative greeting of two men willing to get to know each other. With the taste of myself on his tongue, this is undeniable greed and lust.

Reluctantly, Jesse pulls away from me and an embarrassing whimper slips out of my mouth.

I want to come, but I also don’t want this to stop.

His gaze on me is hungry and feral as he surprises me and stands up. He pushes down his sweats and underwear, revealing his impressive cock, and straddles me.

My body collapses against the mattress on instinct as Jesse hovers over me, one hand on his cock, the other stopping him from falling on me.

He begins stroking himself, a torturous but seductive rhythm, every slide of his hand accentuating his impressive size. Watching him drives me insane. My own cock is painfully hard, my body so wound up I feel like a grenade ready to explode.

I am so turned on by how little he is actually doing to me and how much I’m affected by it all. Just when I think he’s serious about the orgasm denial, he releases his hold on himself and wraps his hand around the both of us and begins to relentlessly fuck his fist.

My hips buck off the bed and I match him for every thrust. It’s a sticky mess between us, filth of the very best kind.

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