Page 51 of Masks and Mishaps

“No.”

“Come on,” he encourages, lifting the hem of my shirt even higher and exposing the lower part of my breast. “I could order you to kiss me. You’re my fuck toy. My needy cum holes. Mine for three more weeks. Free-use includes your sweet mouth.”

“You won’t.” Even Dalton—a guy who has less impulse control than he has body fat—wouldn’t deprive himself of hearing me ask for his kiss.

His eyebrow rises slowly. “I won’t?” he questions before he reaches into his boxer briefs and takes out his dick.

I blink. It’s just…there.It’s darker than the rest of his golden skin, tinged with pink and a touch of mauve. A prominent vein runs down the center and meets the base, where his pubic hair is thick and curly. And it’s…well, it’shuge. There’s truly no other way to spin it. Length aside, it’s so unbelievably thick, and as it hardens in his hand, it becomes even more intimidating.

And yet this cock is so indescribably gorgeous to me. Already, the smooth head is shiny with a droplet of pre-cum, and the temptation to run my tongue along it and taste him from the source makes me bite my lower lip. Even though I know what’s coming—even though I know this cock will imminently be in my throat—I can’t help but admire it.

I get to suck this dick. He hasn’t let anyone else suck this dick in years because my mouth was the only one he wanted.This is my cock and my privilege.

“How big is it?” I ask, posing a question I’ve considered for two years now.How fucking big is it?

“You tell me. You probably have a decent frame of reference based on the toys you like to play with.” He tilts his hips, bringing the head closer to my face. “Is it bigger than your toys, baby?”

“Tell me,” is my response, and my voice has grown heavy. “I’d rather hear you say it.”

Dalton smirks. He’s proud of it—and he should be. “Six and a half around, nine long,” he answers. “Nine and a half on a good day.”

Six and a half around. Shit. I’m dying to see how much I can fit in my mouth, but we’re playing a game. I have to hold back—even if I’m face-to-face with the kind of cock I’ve only ever seen in silicone.

“You like it,” he states evenly while he strokes himself. “It’s perfect for you.”

I tear my eyes away from the absolute miracle in front of me and look at my friend. My coworker. My soon-to-be stepbrother.

He’s soridiculously fine.

I want to agree. I want to tell him his cock is perfect for me—and I’ve waited most of my life for a cock like his. I shrug instead. “You won’t make me,” is my response.

The challenge gets him going, striking his inherently competitive nature, sharpened by the whetstone of finance. He’s used to getting what he wants. He’s used to getting what other people want.

He rises and holds his cock toward my mouth, stopping with the head less than an inch away. The way he’s not even telling me to suck it—just holding it like my mouth is there for him to use when he needs something soft and wet—is exactly like Dalton described: magical.

I part my lips, hating how I can’t pretend anymore. I’ve wanted Dalton’s dick in my mouth since the moment I met him, and this is nothing short of—

He pulls back.Motherfucking bastard.

“Wait—” I protest, following his retreat like a shameless cockslut.

Naturally, Dalton is so smug. “Ask for it,” he orders, tapping the tip against my nipple through my shirt.

I gasp. “No.”

“Beg for it.”

The sensation is overwhelming. “No.”

His free hand grabs my other tit, palming it roughly over the cotton. “Then you don’t get it.”

“Then neither do you,” I blurt out in exasperation, and my hands go to his thighs. “Jesus, Dalton. Use my throat. Let me suck—”

“Ask me to kiss you,” he interrupts—and it’s probably the most willpower Dalton has ever shown. “Then you’ll get the dick you want.”

I’m practically trembling from horniness, but I can’t give in and ruin us both. I shake my head.

“You’re serious? Not evenone goddamn kiss?” The sound he releases is frustrated—a groan and a muffled shout stymied by his fist between his teeth. He collapses next to me, stuffing his dick away while he settles back against his pillows. Sighing, he scrubs his hand over his face. “Fine.It’s fine. Let’s just get ready for brunch.”

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