Page 20 of Trick of the Flesh
“You—” His voice cracks. He has to stop, breathe, and try again. “You’re relentless.”
I grin sharply, leaning closer, bracing one hand on the tree beside his head. “And you’re still sitting here, waiting for me to break you.”
His jaw tightens, stubborn even now. “I hate you.”
“Then why are you hard?” His gaze drops and sure enough, he’s hard as a rock, a tiny wet spot collecting from pre-cum leaking at the tip. “Then why does every inch of you call out to me like a goddamn siren? Hmm?”
The words land like a slap across his face. He jolts, cheeks burning scarlet under the moonlight.Fuck, he’s so pretty.Hetries to twist away, but I press my knee between his legs, pinning him. His breath breaks, shallow and sharp.
I lean in, lips grazing the shell of his ear. “Your body tells the truth, Caleb. You’ve wanted this for years. You’ve wanted me.”
He shudders. The sound that comes out of him is half denial, half desperate whimper.
I laugh low and dark. “Say it. Come on, pretty boy, tell your big brother how much you want his cock in your perfect mouth. Buried inside your tight ass. ”
His chest heaves. He shakes his head once, hard, but his fists are clenched too tight, like he’s holding himself together by a thread.
“Say you want me.” My voice is a command now, rumbling from somewhere deep. “Say you’ve been starving for me all this time.”
“I—” His voice breaks again. His eyes slam shut, wet lashes trembling. He looks like he might shatter right here, breath choking in his throat.
And then, barely audible: “I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can.” I press harder against him, thigh sliding firm between his, my mouth hovering over his lips. “You already are. All you have to do now is use your words.”
His eyes snap open, wide and wild, pupils blown black. He stares at me like I’ve already ruined him.Maybe I have.
My hand finds his jaw, tilting his head up. My thumb strokes the corner of his mouth, slow and taunting. His lips part on instinct.
“There it is,” I whisper. “That’s the look I’ve been waiting for. The look of someone who’s ready to give up.”
His breathing turns ragged. He shakes his head again, but weak, not like before. His voice is raw when it scrapes out of him.
“Do it.”
For a second, the world holds still. No music from the party, no wind through the trees, no heartbeat but his hammering against my chest.
Then, softer, finally broken. “I’m yours.”
The sound of it lights me up like fire to gasoline. The words I’ve been waiting to hear finally ripped from his mouth in the dark.
I brush my lips over his temple, mocking tenderness. “Good boy.”
He trembles against me, not from fear anymore, but from what he’s just confessed.
And now, he’ll learn what it means to be mine.
The words hang between us, fragile as glass.
Do it. I’m yours.
He doesn’t even realize what he’s given me. Not a request. Not a plea.A surrender.The one I’ve been dragging out of him inch by inch since the night he left for college.
The night I kissed him.
I feel his chest stutter against mine. He’s waiting—for punishment, for release, maybe for both. His eyes are glassy and defiant still, but underneath all that defiance is relief. I can break defiance, especially now that he’s admitted the truth that we both know.
I curl my hand tighter on his jaw, forcing him to hold my gaze. “Say it again.”
