Page 14 of Pragma
“There’s a slight tremble in your hands.” His soft whisper feels hot on my neck. A sheer taunt. “How many times did youworkit, ah?”
I know thatitis—my dick, and boy, he couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’ve been too busy and concerned with the latest occurrences to think about fapping one or more out.
“Since when are you interested in my balls?” I clip, attempting to unlace our fingers, but he tightens his grip over mine. Fuck.
He hums. “Do you know that your ears turn red when you’re embarrassed?” The tips of his fingers brush delicately over theupper part of my right ear. “You try to cover it by saying something insulting or bold, you turn defensive so the other person gets distracted.” His lips feel wet on my skin as he talks. “They get red when you are horny too.” His voice has taken on a dark nuance.
I don’t know if he’s playing with me or just boldly riding the post-fight excitement. Either way, I need to get out of here before I do something stupid. Something I can’t take back.
“Should I be disturbed by your close knowledge of my body’s reactions?”
“I know every nook and cranny of your mind, just like you do mine.” His light giggle makes my balls tingle. And it only gets worse when his hand falls on my chest, cold and soft.
He doesn’t know me that well, because if he did, he’d also know how much I want to rip those flimsy panties off him and fuck him against the window for the whole world to see.
So what kind of game is he playing now? Acting all…flirty?
“I have no time nor patience for your capricious desires.”
His body turns rigid before he echoes my words. “Capricious. Desires?”
“Like when you befriended those identical twins in high school by beating their ex to see if their kisses tasted the same? Or when you bought an entire store to impress that girl in my class in uni, only to dump her after the deal was done,” I remind him of some of his past absurdities, hiding the bitterness in my voice.
He pushes his head back to look at my face, but I keep my eyes firmly on the yellow wall in front of me.
“Twins?” he repeats. “Oh, the ones who wanted to get back at that guy, whatever-his-name-was. You remember it wrong. He had his fun with both of them without the other one knowing. They asked me to teach him a lesson, and I did it in exchange for matcha chocolate. I don’t know who spread that rumor, possibly that same guy.”
That could be true. Being the heir of a mafia boss, he was feared in school. People either stayed away or asked for shady favors. Nevertheless, he did some crazy shit.
“I don’t remember any girl in uni, bunny.”
“You are lying. You know exactly what girl I’m talking about.” She was in a couple of classes with me back in the first year of uni, and we became friends-ish. Until Aki saw her. They had a fling, he treated her like shit, and she never talked to me again. Not that I cared about her, but I remember that time well since that was the day I realized nothing would ever happen between me and Aki. He was straight, and on top of that, he saw me like a brother.
“It was ages ago. How can you still be upset about that drooling skank!” His short temper abruptly gets the better of him. He has zero interest in hiding how he feels. I knew he remembered her, how could he not? I didn’t talk to him for a month after that.
Aki suddenly climbs on top of me, face to face. His mouth comes down, and his teeth sink into my scarred cheek and jaw. Hard.
I growl, grabbing his hair to pull his head back. “What the fuck!”
“You need to be punished!” His hands are holding my face still, looking at me with a glower.
I push my palm on his forehead as I see him coming at me with those teeth again. “Enough with the biting!”
He covers my hand, gripping at the back of his hair, and digs his nails in the skin until I release him. Then moves to the other hand still on his forehead, grabs my thumb, and pulls. Fuck! He’s the devil incarnate!
We start wrestling; I pull both his arms behind his back, arching his torso. His dark nipples are hard. He takes advantage of my brief distraction, and twisting his body, he lifts his knee and presses it hard against my stomach. I let his arms go while I flip us and shove him face up on the sofa, caging him, propping my body on my elbows and knees. He wraps his legs and arms around my waist and roughly yanks on my ponytail, pulling my head back and digging those sharp teeth into my neck. Then he proceeds to push all his weight on one side, making me lose balance and knocking both of us off the sofa and down on the floor.
I wrap myself around him, hoping to take the brunt of the fall, which is mitigated by the rug and some cushions. Still the air is sucked out of my lungs as my back hits the ground, and a half second later, gravity drops Aki on top of my chest.
“Pffft!” He snorts and laughs against my pec as I grunt all my pain. My wound is on fucking fire, but all I care about is the feel of his lean body on top of mine, his strong legs on both sides of my hips, his face pressed to my chest. Aki pushes himself up on his hands just far enough for my eyes to see his clearly—two pools of velvety dark chocolate with hints of caramel around the pupils framed by incredibly long eyelashes. So fucking breathtaking.
“How many times do I have to teach you about balance?” He sounds out of breath.
“You play dirty,” I manage to say, but the reality is that I can never win against him. Not because he’s stronger, but because he’s my number one weakness.
He wiggles his body until he’s sitting right on my cock. Bare-chested, all smooth skin and toned muscles, wearing that sexy lingerie that doesn’t hide his stiffening cock. Fuck. Me.
“Oh, I think you like dirty.” He sits up and starts grinding against my dick like a skilled stripper. I can feel his soft, juicy ass cheeks cradling my length through my pants, stroking my raging hard-on up and down. His fingers are brushing my tattoos, and the scars underneath.
