Page 11 of Uncharted Desires
I reach out and put my hand on his hip, my touch barely there.
Blake’s body tenses and he looks over his shoulder but says nothing. He looks me in the eye for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the action.
Interesting.
I flatten my palm on his hip and slide it down to the middle of his thigh before moving it back up to the hem of his shirt, where I stop and push one finger under the fabric, caressing his skin right above his waistband.
He lets out a shaky exhale but doesn’t look at me this time. “What are you doing?”
Fuck if I know. I shrug, even though he can’t see it. “Having fun. What areyoudoing?”
It takes him a while before he answers. “Same.”
My brows furrow. So this is strange. I was the one supposed to fuck with his mind, not the other way around.
I slide my hand to the front of his pants before lowering it as slowly as I can.
Blake’s breaths deepen, but other than that, he doesn’t move, so I press my palm to his cock, over the fabric of his pants, and guide it along his surprisingly long shaft.
Blake’s head drops back, the tips of his hair falling on my face. His eyes are open wide and a small tremor runs through his frame, but still, he’s quiet.
I bring my mouth to his ear. “Why are you here, Blake?”
He answers with a strong exhale.
My brain melts. I give him one more over-the-clothes stroke before I move to take my hand off him.
That’s when his head turns, and he looks at me. “Don’t.”
Well, well, well. Look at that.
Maybe I should walk away now, leave him hanging and make him pay for all the times he’s been a jerk, but I don't. The air thickens around us, and I'm acutely aware of every sound and every vibration in the crowded space.
Slowly, to not startle him, I move my fingers up to the button of his slacks and pop it open. He shudders when I pull down his zipper. And as soon as his pants are open, he darts his eyes around the crowd as if making sure no one is watching.
I take great care as I slide my hand inside his boxer briefs, sneakily making sure his cock is not visible to anyone.
His underwear is wet, where the plump head of his cock pushes against the fabric. And as soon as I'm in, I rub my fingers along his shaft and give him a teasing squeeze.
His eyes fall closed, and he rests his head on my shoulder, bending slightly, making him seem shorter. His cock pulses in my palm, a sizable vein throbbing on the underside. I give him a few shallow strokes before moving my hand to the head of his dick, smearing the pre-cum pooling around his slit.
Blake sighs and his body shudders. I wrap my other hand around his chest, making sure he stays vertical. His hair tingles my neck and I inhale the smell of his shampoo. It’s intoxicating, and I catch myself getting lost in it. I quickly jerk my head back.
My eyes land on the lanky guy who had approached him before. He's gawking at Blake lustfully, longingly.
And I can't blame him. As much as I hate to admit it, Blake is hot on a regular day, and even though I can't fully see his face now, I imagine he looks ten times hotter coming undone in my arms.
The man's eyes meet mine and I squint, a smirk stretching my lips.
That's right. He's with me and all you can do is watch.
I jerk him fast now, my strokes still light and shallow, constricted by the tightness of his underwear, waistband limiting the movements of my wrist.
But that doesn't stop Blake from getting lost in my touch.
A weird wave of satisfaction courses through me as I drop my hand to fondle his balls, angling my hand the best I can.
His sack is firm and heavy in my palm, balls drawn close to his body—full and ready for release.
