Page 44 of These Wicked Games
"I said, shut the fuck up.” The low warning sends heat to my groin. My cock aches inside my sweats. What’s a man to do? I lean my hips forward, brushing his dick against mine.
Hard.
Oli is so hard, and with that knowledge this crackling anger and fear I have crumbles and melts into wanton need. I fucking need him. Bad. Right now. Any way he’ll use me. I need him to use me. “Looks like big bad Kuli has a big bad erection.” I smirk. I have him where I want him. I stop struggling, and he glares at me. I can’t help but smile. The way he’s looking at me now heats my skin. He’s glaring right through me, those stormy eyes devouring me. He loosens the grip on my neck—not by much, but I breathe slightly easier.
His eyes flick down to my lips, and those blue eyes darken like an ocean anticipating a storm. “I want to punch your fucking face,” he hisses. “I wish that was theonlything I wanted to do to your face.”
I want this man. I’ve never wanted anyone like this. I’m burning with desperation. My brain will not let me think about anything else. I’m a big guy, and it’s been so long since someone has handled me like this—just the way I crave. My fingers slowly move down, trailing a path over his stomach, feeling every hard line and dip of his sculpted abs. The black dress shirt he’s wearing strains around his pecs. Three buttons are undone showing off his tattooed chest. Kuli is big. The strength this man possesses is a huge turn on. Unparalleled strength I want unleashed all over me. There’s something so hot knowing the hands around my throat want to fuck me and not kill me.
At least, not kill me yet.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, as my fingers toy with the belt of his pants. Without saying a word, I unbuckle it, then slip it out of the loops. I hold the belt up to him, a question in my eyes, and wordlessly he lets go of my throat to grab it from me.
While he’s preoccupied with the belt I slip out of his hold, leaving the bathroom and looking back, begging him to follow. I’m not used to this. I’m always in control but I feel like this is spinning away from me fast. Something wars behind his stormy eyes, but he gives in, following me, losing his shirt as he stalks me to the bedroom.
“What are we doing?”
“Shut up.” Ignoring him, I pull off my hoodie. I ache for this—for him. For more of that brutality. I want to shut my brain off. Oli watches my pants as I shove them down and step out of them, and I give my cock a squeeze as I look at the sun-kissed expanse of his chest. He’s so fucking big. I want to feel the hairs on his chest, want those pecs pressed tightly to mine as he fucks me.
Oli doesn’t say another word, silently taking off his pants. I peel my eyes away long enough to grab the lube and the condoms I brought from my bag. His dark blond brows pinch. Maybe I went too far. He doesn’t say a word as I lie on the bed. Whatever’s happening here between us, neither of us are talking about it. Maybe that’s for the best.
I lie down on the bed, watching him. He’s straining the front of his briefs, and my throat works with a swallow as I think about the brutal fucking it received only a week ago. Oli looks over me and I’m not sure what he’s thinking. His expression is blank. A bit stony, but wiped clean of emotion.
His eyes lift to mine. Wordlessly I obey the demand in those eyes. “I’m not fucking you.” Disappointment crumbles in my chest, and I don’t know where the fuck it comes from but I want it to go away. I hate how disappointed I am, that he affects me this way. Oli bites his lip, his eyes drifting over my body before shaking his head. “I don’t understand this.”
“Work through whatever you have to later. Unless you don’t want me, stop talking.”
“You’re a brat.” Oli thumbs my briefs, sliding them down my legs, and precum drips from my crown. The desire brewing in my stomach needs to stop. I need relief. Looking at me, Oli dips his thumbs into his briefs, pulling them down and letting his heavy cock hang between his muscular thighs. Fuck, I need another taste. I want it so bad, it’s just not fair. As much as I hate this feeling, I like looking at him. I’ve been with bigger men before, and I’ve been with other closeted players on other teams, but there’s something about the way he looks at me that scratches an itch I didn’t even know I had.
Without a word he gets onto the bed, straddling my thighs, belt in hand. He lifts my head, laying the belt under my neck. I almost ask him what he’s doing, but then he crosses the straps over my throat, pulling the ends tight around my neck.
I can barely breathe.
He pulls tighter, and the alarm must blaze in my eyes. My cock jerks on my stomach. He smirks. “I like it better when you can’t speak.”
“Fuck you.” The words come out like a wheeze. Oli lays one strap down putting his knee on it, then doing the same to the other on the opposite side. The leather squeezes my neck, his knees oneither side of my head like the most dangerous game of sixty-nine. I tilt my head back, my mouth watering, watching his cock hang above me—girthy, delicious, and dripping precum right onto my lips.
“Open.”
I’m too greedy to let shame settle inside my chest. I open, obeying instantly, and I’m rewarded with the wide girth of him filling my mouth. I moan around the width of him, letting him fill my mouth. Fuckingfuck, this is heaven. Paradise. A muffled moan escapes me as I savor his taste. With a flick of my tongue into his slit he shudders over me.
“Fuck.” He thrusts, his knees holding the straps down around my throat, squeezing with each rocky movement. My hands have a mind of their own, cupping his ass, and he tenses, but melts as my hands guide him between my lips. I can’t breathe, but I feel like Oli’s holding back on me. That just won’t do. I urge him forward, swallowing around him. That’s it. He rolls his hips harder now, giving me everything I crave.
My cock makes a mess across my belly. He looks back as if sensing this, before dragging his eyes back to mine. He slips out of my mouth, and I nearly whine until he turns around and—fuck. His heavy balls hang before my lips, and I can't help myself. I'm greedy. Lifting my head up I give them a good lick before sucking one into my mouth.
He groans, his knees pressing down on the straps harder now. I can barely drag air into my lungs, but I don’t stop him. Couldn’t even if I tried. Heat squeezes my lungs and his cock dangles above my lips. I try and fail to lean up to taste it . . . I need it. The straps at my throat hold me down.
Oli hooks his arms under my thighs, pulling them back and spreading me wide. I’m not sure what he’s doing. I can’t look away from his dick mere inches from my lips.
“Oli—” I croak. He doesn’t listen as my body snaps like a live wire, feeling the warm wet stroke of his tongue. He just dives in, zero hesitation, tasting me. It feels insane. Unreal. His tongue more lethal than a sword as it ends me. I want his cock in my mouth, but it remains hanging so close. “Please. Mmf.” Oli licks hot wet strokes along my crack.
He slaps my hole hard. The sting makes me hiss. “Don’t you ever shut up?” he growls, his knees pinning the straps harder against my throat. He engulfs my cock, and while it becomes pretty clear Oli hasn’t sucked dick before . . . A-motherfucking-plus for effort. He’s careful, tentative, as he suckles the head of my cock, groaning against my length. With my knees drawn up there’s not much room to move. I’m helpless in the sweetest way possible. I attempt to crane my neck, only succeeding in licking his tip.
Devouring me with hot, wet suction, he rolls his hips into my mouth and I almost cry with relief. I take him greedily and I lose myself, barely breathing. I feel lightheaded, and I don’t know if that’s lack of oxygen or absolute euphoria. I don’t even care. Oli rolls his hips harder, bruising the back of my throat. His tongue travels over my balls and down my perineum. Has he done this before? He seems to have no hesitation eating me with the fervor of a starved animal.
He sucks at my hole and I nearly lose my mind. My eyes snap shut as he abuses my throat and licks a path around my rim. Why won’t he just fuck me? I have condoms, and we both get medicalevaluations. He has no issue playing with my ass, clearly. I want to feel his girth stretching me open.
“Fuck, Dre.” The nickname makes me freeze; I haven’t heard it in years and it does something to my insides I don’t want to think about.
