Page 30 of Promised Secret
I wanted some of his certainty, because I had no fucking clue what I was doing. This was a terrible idea that could mess everything up way more than it already was. I knew the consequences, yet I was powerless to make myself stop.
I dropped to my knees to get a better look. This close, I could see the angry veins going down his length. I wanted to trace them with my tongue until I knew every single ridge of his cock. I wanted to press my nose into his pubes until his scent was ingrained in me.
Not wanting to scare him off with my intensity, I reached out a tentative hand instead. His heat burned into my hand. He was hard and velvety under my touch.The feel of him was so fucking addictive I didn’t know how to stop.
I could feel Clay’s eyes on me, watching me the same way he always did. Whether I was poring over a textbook or stroking his dick, his gaze held the same intensity.
It was all too much. The feel of him, his heavy eyes trained on me, and I was not expecting his fingers sliding through my hair, fiddling with the longish locks.
The boner I’d tried to keep in check fought to poke a hole through my jeans. I ignored it and slid my hand down the underside of his length. I memorized the weight of his balls in the palm of my hand and committed the breathy sounds he made into memory.
I probably wouldn’t get a chance like this again, so I made sure I took everything he was willing to give before it was too late.
Clay’s eyes were half-lidded. He had a lazy, comfortable look about him that made me want to rile him up until I brought out the raw side of him I’d never seen before.
My finger slid up his cock to swipe at the precum pooling at his head. I used it as a glide and covered his length in it.
“Feels good,” Clay breathed, his breath coming out shaky. “I’ve never noticed how nice your hands are, though it’s not surprising. Everything about you is nice.”
My heart rate kicked up at that, and I firmly told myself not to think too deeply into his words.
“You have nice hands, too,” I told him. He smirked, his fingers sliding over the shell of my ear, then burned a line down the back of my neck.
I almost purred from his touch. My cock liked having his hand on me even if he wasn’t the one getting the attention. At this rate, my underwear was going to be sloppy wet from my precum.
“So, we’ve established we both have nice hands,” I said lamely. “I, uh, should probably stop now.”
I reluctantly released his hard cock, because I knew if I didn’t stop now, I never would. His precum was still sticky on my palm. I wanted to run to my room and jerk off with it. It’d probably last me all night, or until my dick was rubbed raw.
I braced myself to stand, but Clay’s hand in my hair pressed me down. He used his other hand to retrieve mine. His grip on mine was surprisingly strong, and before I could question what he was doing, he’d already placed my hand back on his cock and covered mine with his own.
“Help me,” he all but growled.
There was something primal in his voice that held me frozen in place. All I could do was watch as Clay guided my hand to stroke his erection. Heusedme to pleasure himself…and god, I’d never seen anything sexier.
My heart was racing faster than a fucking Formula 1 car, and my cock felt like it would burst through the zipper of my jeans. Clay parted his lips, eyes still lockedwith mine as he let out a soft moan that was going to star in my dreams for years to come. And just like that, Clay was coming, his essence spilling over our hands as he continued to use my hand to stroke himself through his orgasm.
My own cock throbbed as I watched him, desperate to be touched, desperate to come with him. I ignored my own need and focused on Clay’s.
He was still watching me, his eyes intense as he gave me a look that reminded me of how I looked at him when I wanted comfort. And my comfort was always a kiss from him, so I gave in to my instincts and went for it.
Clay met me halfway, his mouth hard against mine. A delicious, throaty sound echoed in the living room as he hungrily devoured my lips. Themetallic taste of blood from where I’d bitten him earlier only served to heighten my senses toward him.
Every single cell inside my body screamed it belonged to Clay Segall, and just like his stubble that was currently rubbing my skin raw, I wasn’t going to stop loving him, even if my heart was torn to shreds.
Chapter Eleven
DAN
It was a sunny, beautiful day to volunteer at the summer fair. Carol had arrived before me, despite me getting there a good hour and a half before my shift.
I definitely wasn’t trying to avoid being alone with Clay at our home. I had absolutely no problem being in the living room where I’d made him come. Absolutely no problem at all. Everything was just fine and dandy in the world of Dan Yao.
Who the hell was I kidding?
Nothing was fine, and the only dandy thing about this was the new spank-bank material I now had featuring Clay’s face filled with pleasure.
It was absolute torture because it also meant I spent every waking moment hard and replaying the scene in my head. It kept me up. I hadn’t masturbated this much since the first time I saw Clay naked in the locker rooms in middleschool.
