Page 40 of Trick of the Flesh
I smirk, satisfied, drunk on the sight of him wrecked and begging.
“You’re mine,” I tell him, slow and certain. “Say it back.”
“I’m yours,” he gasps.
The words brand themselves into me, hotter than any fire.
“I’m yours,” he breathes again, as if saying it twice might make me believe him.
I already do.
I drag my thumb over his lower lip, rough, forcing his mouth open. Then I push two fingers past his lips, slow enough to make his eyes flutter, but firm enough to remind him who decides when he breathes.
“Prove it,” I growl. “Show me how much you love being mine.”
He chokes around me at first, jaw straining, but then—like the good boy he is—he relaxes. His tongue flicks, tentative, then bolder, sucking like he knows it’s the only thing that’ll keep me pleased.
I watch his face. Watch the tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he gags, drool slicking his chin.
Beautiful.
“That’s it,” I croon, curling my free hand into his hair to hold him steady. “Take it. Imagine it’s my cock.”
A muffled sound rumbles in his throat—half a sob, half a moan. He’s trembling against the headboard, wrists straining, body arching like he’s caught between wanting to flee and wanting to sink deeper into me.
I ease my fingers out, strings of spit clinging, and smear them across his cheek. His chest heaves, mouth red and swollen, and eyes glassy with humiliation and need.
“You love it,” I tell him. “Being used. Being mine.”
“Yes,” he gasps, voice shredded. “I love it.”
The admission hits me like a fist to the gut. Heat surges low and sharp, and I’m hungry enough to devour him whole.
“God, I fucking need to be inside of you.”
“Please,” His voice cracks, raw and desperate. “Untie me, I need you… fuck,please.”
“You’re going to ride me, Caleb. So I can kiss you. Unless you want me to take you from behind.” Still giving him the option to choose how he wants me inside him. While I know Caleb needs for me to be in control, this is something I have to let him decide.
Heat rushes to his cheeks as I untie his hands. “From behind. I’m—I’m just not ready to be on top.”
I lean forward and kiss him, nice and soft. “However you want it. If I need to stop, you say so.”
“Okay, Miguel.” Without pause, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head and is out of his shorts in a flash. I came in only wearing shorts, with no underwear, so I’m undressed even faster.
The way he bares himself so fast, cheeks flushed, chest heaving—it’s almost enough to make me lose control. But not tonight. Tonight, he deserves care. Caleb kneels on the bed in front of me, shoulders trembling, face buried in the pillow. I run my hands over his back, slow and steady, feeling every shiver. Ipress him gently down onto his stomach, hands sliding along his spine. “Easy, baby. Let me take my time with you.”
“I trust you, Miggy.”
“Look at you,” I murmur, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “So beautiful like this. Ready for me.”
He lets out a shaky laugh. “You’re just saying that.”
I shake my head, sliding down his spine, planting kisses until I reach the dip of his lower back. “No, Caleb. I mean it. You’re everything.”
His breath stutters.
The words hit harder than they should. I kiss the back of his neck, lingering there until I feel him soften.
