Page 50 of Puppy on a Leash

Somehow, now that he was on my lap and completely exposed, touching him felt bigger. Jaime confirmed he felt the same by the full-body shiver and the gasp that accompanied it the second the pads of my fingers were on his slick crotch.

“I love your body,” I said. Talking was something that always helped bring me back to a scene, to not get lost in feelings or anything else that might be going on outside of it. My lips ghosted over his neoprene-covered temple. “I’ve kept an eye on you since you first joined the club, did you know that?”

Jaime mumbled something I didn’t catch. He bucked his hips, grinding against my fingers. I flicked my fingers faster, alternating with rougher rubs where I applied more pressure. I’d been researching this. I didn’t think he had a lot of bottom growth, but it still felt different than every other clit I’d played with in the past.

Not so different that I didn’t feel confident about getting him off. Jaime was vocal enough I didn’t need to worry about getting feedback. Even if he wasn’t screaming or letting out exaggerated moans, his breath became more ragged, his grunts deeper, pressing desperation slipping into his vocal cords until it was all I heard.

His body was even more of an open book than he was. With his face buried against my neck, it felt safer, even if I was sure that wasn’t the right word, to take him in—from his angular jawline and long neck to his darker nipples and the faint scars beneath his chest, to his abdomen and the divots by his hip bones. Jaime worried that I saw him as an edgier version of the gender he’d been assigned at birth, but it didn’t even cross my mind to do such a thing.

I just wanted to make him come undone. Craved it.

I committed every sound he made to memory. Every gasp, grunt, moan, whimper he tried to quell biting his lip. His hood was in the way, but some things were universal.

The sounds were becoming more guttural, coming closer together, when Jaime used his gloved hand to push my arm—again, might I add. He had that whole topping from the bottom stint down.

I paused as I realized where he was trying to move me.

“You want me to finger your front hole, pup?” I didn’t utter another word until he answered with a grunt and a nod. “Want me to fill you up?”

The sound Jaime made was not one I’d heard from him before. It was the purest, most unfiltered whimper. His body responded with him when he couldn’t verbalize that need, that craving. I was right there with him.

He was ready enough I could push two fingers in easily. My groan intermingled with his as his muscles clamped around me, squeezing as if that was the whole reason for their existence.

“Good pup,” I breathed out.

Jaime shivered at the praise. Or maybe it was the way I started pumping my fingers in and out. Or a combination of the two. I didn’t want to go slow with him. He didn’t need me to go slow when I could almost taste his orgasm right there.

Even if that wasn’t a factor, one thing that was becoming clear about Jaime? He didn’t want me soft. He didn’t want anyone soft, treating him with care and going slow. He wanted roughness. He wanted to feel owned.

I was starting to think of ways to make him see that, to make himacceptit, to show him—and myself—that I could give him what he was craving.

In the meantime, I focused on following his body’s cues, on keeping up the rhythm and building the pressure when he clenched all around me. Hood or not, I was pretty sure heblacked out for a second. He came with his entire body, every muscle getting loose as waves of pleasure washed through him. There was something about witnessing it. It almost felt like reverence.

“That’s it.” I stopped moving my fingers, but I stayed inside, letting his muscles milk me as he rode the waves. “Breathe through it, pup.”

Jaime whimpered. More shivers ran down his body. I wouldn’t lie and say I wasn’t working on my heart rate too as he recovered. The sight of him, undone like this? It almost had me reenacting my days as a repressed teenager.

For some reason, instead of sobering me up, the thought made me think of the way Jaime had been edging me with his twenty seconds, with no relenting in sight.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring your puppy cock.” I spoke the thing that had my mouth drying up. “I think I would’ve let you use it.”

The words made Jaime tense. I held my breath. The heart rate I’d been working on? It was through the roof again.

Jaime huffed before bringing his gloved hand to his hood. He mimicked well enough he wanted it off.

“Let me,” I said before frustration took hold of him and all that post-orgasm haze that had his body nice and relaxed faded.

He had one of those more expressive hoods that only covered his face and were clasped at the back, so I didn’t have to focus on not hurting him by accidentally pinching skin. Instead, I unclasped the buckle at the back, took it off, then placed it carefully on the mat beside me.

“I kind of hate you right now” was the thing that left his mouth the second the hood was off.

He cleared his throat.

I watched his face. He was slightly red faced, a light sheen of sweat dampening the hair around his temples. His lips wereslick with saliva, reddened from all the biting he must’ve done in his failed attempts to stay quiet.

In short, he looked completely debauched—enough to soften the blow of his words.

“Do I wanna know why?”

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