Page 65 of These Wicked Games
“You look spacey.”
Anger slams into me and I don’t know why. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. “You’re taking too long. Are you going to fuck me or do you want me to grab a talking stick so we can share our feelings?”
His fingers snatch my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Watch your mouth, or I’ll bend you over my knee and spank this gorgeous ass raw.”
I tsk. “Oli, you’re very chatty tonight. Are you going to fuck me?” I think for a moment, and I’m really playing with fire now. “You know, if you’re not up for the job, I’m sure someone else would—”
His other hand comes up fast, wrapping around my throat and pinning me to the wall. “Don’t finish that fucking sentence,” he snarls. “If anyone lays a finger on you, I’ll break their fucking hands.”
Oh, I am in trouble. My dick thickens behind these sweats. I need them off.
Oli backs away from me, his eyes not leaving mine, and slowly tugs off his hoodie and shirt in one swoop, displaying his beautiful chest. I sink to my knees and look up.
My hand runs up the hard ridge of him through his sweatpants. I lean in, kissing his crown feeling him grow behind the soft fabric. Slowly I work them down mid thigh. I lean in, dragging my nose against the cloth of his briefs and breathing in the musky sweet scent of him. Impatient, I shove his briefs and pants down and watch him spring out. Hot and hard. Precum beads at his slit, I can't help myself catching it with my tongue. My fingers lacearound his girth, I swipe my tongue along his head before licking under the soft skin of his cock as I pull his foreskin back. I love that he’s uncut. I love the noises he makes when I suck him into my mouth and play with his crown. My tongue dips into his slit and I drink the guttural groan that leaves him. I look up and watch the watery gaze of his eyes as he watches me. Fuck he tastes good.
“Pick a safe word, Dre.”
I pop him out of my mouth. “Why?”
“Just pick one.”
“Um . . . Pop Tart.”
“Really? Pick something normal,” he grinds out.
“What? I hate Pop Tarts and I love your dick. Something will have to go real fucking south for me to say Pop Tart.” I smile, loving the way I work him up. “Believe me, Oli, it’s going to take a lot for me to actually need one.” I love the pain—crave it in fact. I can still feel the straps of that belt as he choked me. I still feel a bit sore from the car, but I don’t care. I need this man to shut up and fuck me already. “Come on, Oli. Fuck me, and don’t stop until I’ve told you to stop.”
Kuli flexes, those muscles bunching and tightening like a fucking buffet for me to feast on. Dark tattoos roll over his tan skin. “Get naked. Now.” Under his scrutiny, I listen, just ready to focus on something that isn’t the war inside me.
I tug down my sweats, then yank off my shirt. I stand naked and bathe in Oli’s eyes as he looks over me. I’ve always liked men—the way they look, the way they smell. I wonder what it’s like for him? Has he always known he was queer? Or am I his first? I’m not sure how he identifies, but I do know that the heat in his gaze right now belongs to me.
Only me. I try to shove back the possessiveness. Oli will never really be mine, and I hate how much that thought makes my stomach twist. “Like what you see?” I rasp, giving my cock a slow tug.
His eyes lift to mine, and I think I see uncertainty in them before it’s wiped away and replaced with white-hot need. Oli pulls his pants off completely and I nearly groan. Or I do, audibly, if the smug look on Kuli’s face tells me anything.
His cock is just . . . insane. Thick, not as long as mine, but thicker, with veins running along it. My ass clenches. I swallow, and my throat craves a bruising. I’m his to command, his to use. I love the direction, the demands. When I’m with Oli I don’t have to think or second-guess. I just want to sink into myself as he sinks into me.
There’s no room to disappoint when you’re told what to do.
That doesn’t mean I’m not going to push his buttons. It’s what I’m best at. “Are you going to stare or are you going to get on your knees like a good fucking boy?” He shocks me, shoving me backwards, and I don’t have time to catch myself as I crash against the bed. I should be shocked at the violence, but my cock jumps. I crave it. Kuli smiles at me, and it’s a wicked, beautiful thing. It’s all teeth that are surprisingly still his own. He grins like a hyena who’s found easy prey to toy with.
His eyes dip down to my dick with a smirk, seeing exactly what he does to me. He’s so cocky. “I hate you.”
“Yet here we are. Hard as fuck.” His eyes ignite. He cups my dick, squeezing it hard, and I cry out, pushing him back. It’s no use. “Filthy little slut. Huh? I bet you’d drop to your knees with a snap of my fingers. Greedy, messy little whore.”
Oh my god, why is that doing it for me? I am his greedy whore. Heat pools in my groin. I’m in no way little, but that’s how I feel next to him. “I’m falling asleep. Fuck me already.”
Oli leans in, gripping my chin in his hand. He glares at me hard for a moment before his lips twist in a smirk and he slaps the side of my face. I groan, drinking in the sharp sting. “Get on your knees,zayka.”
“What? What does that mean?!”
“None of your business.” His grins is feral. “Now get. On. Your. Knees.” I’m desperate so I do as I’m told. Normally I love the banter, love the back and forth and words thrown between us, but I just need him. I swallow hard. I’m too afraid of what that means.
It’s just today, it’s just everything between us fucking up my head. That’s all. I sink to my knees, needing the noise to just stop. Oli steps closer to me and I can’t help drinking him in. Heavy cock, strong powerful thighs, a tapered waist, strong arms and chest—he looks like sin incarnate. He looks like a fucking god standing before me.
And I’m starting to forget that he may be the devil.
Giving himself a long stroke, he cups his balls, staring down at me. “Stick out that greedy tongue.” Part of me wants to challenge him, but a bigger part of me needs him more than I need fucking air in my lungs. So I listen, hating myself and the desperation I feel.
