Page 30 of Beautifully Conflicted

“I mean it, Damien.” He repositions his fingers on my neck. “Take your hand off my dick.”

Though he’s sending out mixed signals, I err on the side of no means no, and start to loosen my grip. But when Bennet’s cock twitches I hear his body say what his mouth won’t.

More.

“No.” This time I push my hips forward as I give a long, firm tug on our dicks. Bennet’s hold on my neck falters, his hand sliding to the base of my throat as a guttural moan rumbles up his.

Hottest.

Sound.

Ever.

My already firm cock seems to achieve another level of unbreakable as it glides along Bennet’s, inspired by his body’s reaction. Yet in spite of his physical signals, I get the sense I’m in a precarious position. Onewhere the moment he lets himself think instead of feel, I’ll get a fist to the face.

Though it doesn’t always work in my favor, I figure talking might buy me enough time to give his body what it clearly wants.

Leaning forward until my lips brush against his ear, I whisper, “How do you like it, Bennet? Long and slow.” I hold my hand in place and rock my hips with exaggerated slowness, trying not to moan as the friction between our cocks ignites a flame of desire. “Or hard and fast?” I tighten my hold and jab my hips forward, sandwiching his length between my own and my fist as I frot against him.

Bennet’s fingers clutch at the base of my neck as if he’s trying to hold on.

“Hard and fast,” I rasp in his ear as I pick up the pace of my strokes. “I like it. Is that how you touch yourself? ”

“Mmmmugh,” he groans in reply, and I have to bite my lip to keep from answering the same way.

Though it’s hard to get a good sense of what he’s packing since I’m holding us both, one thing is certain. Bennet Armstrong is hard as fuck.

“You feel like a steel pipe in my hand. Is that because you haven’t worked your cock in a while, or you like the way I do it?”

“That’s not—” he trails off when I abruptly stop stroking and cup his balls with my free hand, and he moans softly as I roll them around my palm.

They’re nice and full, and a sweet spot if his guttural noises are any indication, so I give them a little extra attention. Starting off with a gentle tug, I squeeze as I glide my other hand around our bare cocks.

Bennet bites his lip, I think to stop another groan, and I damn near come on the spot, even though I’m barely stroking us. Since I don’twant this to end yet, and the sounds he makes when I fondle his balls are a sure way to make sure I blow early, I switch gears.

I give his nuts a final squeeze and drag my hand up to his stomach, letting my fingers graze over the peaks and valleys of his six pack. He inhales a shaky breath but otherwise doesn’t move, letting me stroke us leisurely as my hand snakes its way up toward his chest.

He’s got nice, full pecs that I massage thoroughly, feeling his nipple harden under the heel of my hand. When he moans softly, I focus on that little nub, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger to see how much pressure he likes. Only the longer I tease, the more apparent it is that this is no tiny bud. It’s damn near the size of a quarter, the biggest I’ve ever seen on a man, and while his cock feels like a very impressive feature, I’m suddenly very intrigued by the idea of sucking on those nipples.

Is there any part of this man that isn’t perfection?

Once again, Bennet’s noises have me distracted to the point of release, so I stop toying with him and concentrate on giving him the best hand job he’s ever had.

The instant I pick up the pace of my strokes the hand that’s still resting at the base of my throat flexes, a silent plea if I had to guess.

“You like that, don’t you? Having your dick jerked with a little force.”

“I don’t…” He tries to shake his head but can’t with my lips next to his ear. “I don’t like…” Bennet rocks onto the balls of his feet as I jerk him hard enough to force him off balance, and I feel him shudder as he lets out a shaky breath.

“What don’t you like? A strong hand on your dick? Another cock rubbing against yours?”

“Both” he pants, but since he rocks those sexy hips forward as he does it, pushing his length into my grip, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean it.

“Feels like you like it.” I take a moment to appreciate the snug fit of our cocks pressed together in my hand, and the pleasure building between my legs as my fist travels over us. “Feels like your big, beautiful cock is ready to burst all over mine. I want that. I want to feel you come on my dick.”

“Jesus that’s filthy,” Bennet mutters, but since his fingers clutch at my throat again, I take that as a sign he approves.

“Not as filthy as it would be if we weren’t in the shower. It’s gonna wash away before I get a chance to wear it.”

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