Page 21 of Billion Dollar Love: Manlove Edition

I want so badly to touch him gently, to kiss his shoulder, and whisper reassurance. To slow down and to make love to him.

I glide my cock across the plump flesh of his ass, drawn so tight. I can’t force this. I can’t make him. I’m going to break down first. I’m going to—

“Stop!” Carlos thrashes.

Thank God.

His desperate flail pushes me away and back to my feet, even as it drops him onto his ass. He scrambles away from the bed.

Perfect. This is what I want.

He looks at me with shame and fear and lust that’s drowning in disappointment.

That is what Mr. Ito wants.

I stare back at him, dick in my hand, killing the feelings of grief and embarrassment. It’s a strong ballerina’s stance, head tilted slightly down, feet grounded. I know my expression is cold because every muscle in my body is coiled tight and ready to pounce into a flurry of action.

Weird contrast to the flamboyant shirt, the open jeans, the exposed cock in my hand.

“S…” Carlos can’t look at me. “Sorry, Harper.”

He says my name like it will change who I am. And he’s right. Everything tight in my stomach uncoils. Still, I remain steady and silent.

“I just…” His eyes are so beautiful when they look up at me again. “I’ve never done this before.”

Fuck.

He shifts to his knees, a little closer to me, even as he staggers backward verbally. “I mean, not sex. I’m not a virgin. Even with men. I’ve been with guys before. I just never … this particular…”

His eyes fixate on my cock. I can practically feel his ass clench, rejecting the idea of me fucking him.

Then his entire body heaves a sad moan. “I really want you to be the first, Harp, I just … I need it a little … I don’t know … slower, please?”

Shit. I didn’t anticipate this. Didn’t think past his rejection. I assumed he’d bolt for the door. I didn’t think he’d … wanna talk it through.

Hurt him.

I can’t hurt him. I should call him a coward or weak or laugh at his foolishness. What kind of fag hasn’t been fucked at his age?

That’s the thing to say. Say it with a condescending sneer. I can muster that. I’m a performer, after all. He’s just a techie.

But I can’t.

I’m gonna lose everything, but I can’t hurt him.

“I don’t mean to upset you.” He crawls a little nearer. “Please, don’t be mad.”

His gaze flits between my shaft and my face. Like he wants to beg to suck my cock but is afraid I’ll deny him.

Christ, I want him so bad.

No, that’s just the lust talking. You want Mr. Ito. You want his control. You wouldn’t even have moved on Carlos if Mr. Ito hadn’t told you to. Don’t ruin your future with a hot-blooded decision now.

The calm voice of reason in my head is a liar. I want to take my time with this wonderfully shy man—I wanted to from the beginning. I want to let him fumble through his awkwardness to kiss and caress me. I want to make love to him, not just fuck him, but to revel in his naked flesh, to watch his face as he melts from one moment of delight to another. I want to take my time and just … be with him.

I don’t want to perform.

“Oh shit.” I groan and run a hand through my hair.

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