Page 17 of Two Guys One Puck
He shrugs and tries to shove my cup aside enough to get at my cock. “Kiss me again if you’re not going to run away.”
I should leave. Anyone could come looking for us, anyone could walk by. But I don’t. I slip my tongue into his mouth, too turned on to do anything but let him make me come.
He releases me, and I start to demand he touch me again when he forces his hand into my sweats, and under my cup. His skin meets mine, and he’s rough with his callused palm.
So we’re really doing this.
I flip us around, shoving him into the cold metal. I can’t let him have all the control. I slip my hand inside his waistband and move his cup aside. I don’t give myself a second to realize what I’m doing, and wrap my fingers around his dick. He’s smooth and rock hard all at once, thicker than I am. I can’t help but groan, mirroring what he’s doing.
“Fuck, you’re so rough.”
“Shut up and take it.” A part of me doesn’t want him to enjoy this fully.
“I like it. People are too soft.” He rocks into my grasp.
I shouldn’t like that, but I do. I roll my hand like I’m jacking off, doing all the things that feel good. I’m living and dying on his reactions while we build each other up slowly.
“I’m close,” I gasp. It creeped up on me, but I’m about to explode.
He slows down. “Me too.”
“Fuck you. Don’t do that.”
He bites my lower lip, grinning. “Don’t do what? Make you need it more? Trust me—it will be better.”
I get rougher with him, shoving my knee between his to press into his balls. He mutters something in his language, panting. He’s close. I can feel it.
“I’m going to force you to come whether you like it or not.”
“You want it so badly, don’t you?” Ktytor words make me think for a split second he’s going to work me up and leave, but he rolls his hand, taking me right to the edge. “Then come, precious.”
I exhale as I orgasm, cumming all over his hand and our shirts.
He looks like he fucking won the game again. I keep jacking him off to not punch him in the face. He thrusts his hips into my hand, leaning back against the car as his eyes half close.
He’s gorgeous like this, completely under my control, the smugness all but gone from his face. He shudders, and finally, he comes, cock pulsing and spilling cum down my fingers. A rope hits my throat and drips down my shirt.
Pleasure becomes him.
His lips crash into mine, and he kisses me as I work him through the last of his release. When we finally still, he grabs my jaw, lifting my chin while he licks his own cum off my throat.
“We don’t need anyone asking questions,” he says, the smirk returning.
I step back, post nut clarity hitting me. I glance around, holding up my sticky hand.
He grabs my wrist, licking his cum off my fingers. “You’re welcome.”
I feel his words all the way to my cock.
We both fix ourselves and then linger.
“Wish me luck for our next game.”
I shouldn’t want to hit him and kiss him again at the same fucking time. “Fuck you. You’re going to lose.”
His grin stretches wider. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”
SIX
