Page 64 of Fever Dream
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“I can’t believe this is the favour you want,” Harrison grumbles later that night when we’re finally, blessedly alone in my room.
“Oh but you have no idea how hot it is watching an English aristocrat doing something so very common,” I rebut, watching his hand stroke up and down the length of his cock.
“And you’re just going to sit there and watch?” he huffs, that delightful flush spreading from his cheekbones all the way down across his chest. “Are you even going to get naked?”
“Maybe,” I grin, stretching out my body alongside where Harrison lies on my bed, completely naked and beautiful, and wanking himself for my viewing pleasure. “Maybe I should have brought popcorn.”
I catch Harrison’s chuff of laughter, right before he touches himself somewhere nice and he lets out a soft moan. Yes, I am thoroughly enjoying watching him touch himself, far more than I thought I would. I’m not afraid to admit I’m using the occasion to pick up some tips on how Harrison likes it. After all, he would know best what his body likes and I watch vividly as he twists his hand at the top, letting out a sigh as his legs splay wider.
I’m watching with bated breath, hanging on for the money shot when he finally arches his back, breath catching as he spills all over his fist with a groan.
“Damn,” I say on an exhale, admiring his blissed-out face as he gives himself a moment to recover. “That’s hands down the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Harrison tips his head back on the pillow, a soft huff of laughter filling the cosy space between us.
“Oh, Casey,” he sighs, looking down at me with such fondness that I feel myself squirm. He runs his teeth along his lower lip, eyeing me speculatively before he nods down at the prominent bulge in my sweatpants. “Your turn.”
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t part of the deal,” I say, belying my words as I reach down to strip off my sweats. I’m just a tad desperate after watching Harrison make himself come for me.
“You mean the deal you extracted from me under duress?” he returns, eyebrow arched perfectly.
“Yes. That deal,” I return, pumping myself a couple times to relieve the built-up tension, enjoying the way his eyes follow my every move.
I lean back on the pillow, sliding my free hand to hitch my top up, giving Harrison a free view of the abs I know he loves. He doesn’t disappoint, eyes darkening as he looks me over. I wasn’t intending on putting on a show for Harrison but that not-so-little limelight seeking side of me preens at his attention.
I stroke myself for him and I don’t even have to fake the little whimpers and moans I’m making because wanking myself while Harrison watches is hot.
He watches in silence until I’m arching my back, desperately chasing the prize at the end. And then Harrison snaps. He surges forward, knocking my hand away as he takes over for me. And it’s instantly better, having his hand on me. He must have been taking notes too because it’s just the way I like it, the way he dips his thumb into the soft spot underneath my head and rubs me in a way that has my spine swiftly tingling.
I feel the sensations start to shoot down my spine, that point of no return just in sight when Harrison abruptly stops. I let out a whimper at the injustice as he leaves me standing on the clifftop all alone.
“Hey, what?” I garble.
“Now, Casey Calloway. I want a promise from you before we continue. No more sex talk while we’re at work, okay?” Harrison says, leaning over me like an avenging angel. A cruel avenging angel with chestnut locks and the most beautiful brown eyes on earth.
“What?” I gasp. I’m too far gone for coherency of thought but it kind of sounds like Harrison is using sex to get his way about something. How incredibly rude. And how incredibly ironic.
“You heard me, baby,” he replies, voice teasing, stopping my hand from sliding down to finish the job. “No more sex talk. No more teasing. No more made-up groin injuries. No more swanning around my treatment room in your sexy little underwear.”
“Why are you so mean?” I cry, head tipped back on the pillow. I think I want to weep. And beg. Definitely beg.
“Do we have an agreement?” he asks. I’m about to shake my head, not wanting to give up all my fun at work but he punctuates his question with a firm squeeze of my cock, and I can’t remember my qualms anymore.
“Yes. Agreed,” I gasp. “More. Please.”
“Agreed?” he coaxes, teasing my cock some more until I am nearly crying, dick weeping onto my stomach. “No more sex at work?”
“No more sex at work,” I cry, relief hitting me instantly when he grips my cock and finishes the job he started. I come in two seconds flat, so close to the finish line that I would question what kind of witchcraft Harrison possesses that enabled him to know exactly when to stop. But I can’t think about that at the minute, mindless in orgasmic wonderland as I finally finish after the cruellest edging of my existence.
And no, I am not dramatic. Not one little bit.
“I think you just got played at your own game, my darling,” Harrison says, all sweetness and gentleness as he smooths the hair from my forehead. Just a loving gesture from a loving guy who cheated me out of something big. I’m positive I’ve been cheated here.
“Who are you?” I reply, staring up at him. “And what did you do with my sweet Harrison? I want him back. The guy who’ll do anything for me.”
“He’s still here,” Harrison grins, all smugness mixed in with that underlying sweetness. “But he has his limits, and he has his boundaries. And some of them are things evenyoucan’t cross, my sweet little diva.”
