Page 82 of Forbidden Hockey
“No, you’re fucking not.”
Knew it. “Fucking hell, Trav,” I say with all the attitude and tone he doesn’t appreciate.
“Watch it, pretty boy. I knew that mouth of yours was gonna show at some point. You wanna come, don’t you?”
“God, yes. Please.” I might die if he doesn’t let me.
“Then behave yourself.”
Fuck. He makes it so hard, though. “You do realize how fucking hot you are, right?”
He chuckles, running a hand through his sexy hair. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“Trav!”
“Keep being my pretty little sex doll, and maybe I’ll let you come. If I feel like it.”
Okay, so Trav’s a fucking sadist. I suspected that. Notonlybecause he was in a motorcycle gang, but definitely because he was in a motorcycle gang.
I can’t look at him anymore. Looking at him’s such a turn-on in and of itself that I have to block that shit out. But he also knows what he’s doing with that cock of his. He slowly takes me apart with it until I don’t know where to put my hands. I claw at the sheets, but then I settle on clinging to him for dear life.
Every slide of his cock makes my insides ache in the best way. The stretch, the burn, the explosive tingles when he hits my prostate. His teeth nip at my neck, sucking his brand into me.
“I’m gonna come, pretty boy,” he says. “And what are you gonna do—because you don’t have permission?”
Fucking hell. He’s making me pay for my attitude. Lesson learned.
“I’m gonna be a good boy and not come because I don’t have permission,” I half-bite out, half-moan.
“That’s right,” he says, still fucking me with the force of a god as he builds to an inevitable conclusion. He pants. “Take it. Suffer. I wanna see you suffer for me.”
Oh, I’m suffering alright. Staving off my orgasm is sweet torture. Tears prick my eyes and stream down my face from the pressure of holding it in, but I won’t come. I won’t.
Travis’s beautiful cry rips from him as he shakes and shudders out an orgasm, dick pulsing, filling me. I wanna be sticky with his cum. Want him to mark me with it. If I don’t get to come, it’s a suitable consolation prize.
“Good boy,” he says because I held my ground. He wipes a tear away, licking it from his finger. “Fuck, do I love these.”
I’m still at the edge of the bed, he lowers his mouth, poised over my miserable cock. Hot breath ghosts over it. I whimper and moan, crying some more, chest shaking. I’m gonna be such a good fucking boy from now on.
“Time to reward you, baby. Come whenever you want.”
Shit.
I’m on a pinhead. It doesn’t take long with my dick in the succulent cave of his mouth. My body clenches, and I see nothing but white behind my eyelids as I come down his throat. There’s a moment when I think it’s my last. This is too much sensation for one body.
But I don’t die. I live, and oh, what a glorious time to be alive. Trav just sucked me off. The man of every fantasy I’ve ever had.
The only man I’ve ever been in love with.
“How’d you know I’d like all that?” I murmur, half dead. It was the orgasm of my fucking life.
We’re on his bed. There isn’t much light in here with just what’s coming from the window, but it’s enough to illuminate his handsome face. My naked thigh slides over his, scratching against his coarse leg hair, and I breathe him in.
Holy fuck, I’m naked in bed with Travis.
Naked in his bed.
Don’t see that ever getting old.
