Page 19 of Moon Blind Hearts
“Two,” he spits. “Three.”
Unlike Cash and Sawyer, Oak is soft around the middle, a smattering of hair across his chest that makes me want to stroke my fingers through it. Every part of him is designed for strength rather than appearances, and I really like that. I like the way he smells, the scent of rich cologne and a lighter hint of hay that almost tickles my nose.
Cash laughs at my antics, clearly enjoying himself. He reaches down and strokes himself through his jeans. I don’t stop him. Not when we’re playing. Not when the whole point of this is to get the subscribers excited about what’s to come.
Another button falls and Oak growls out the number “four” as I flip his shirt open, revealing more and more skin. I smile up at him devilishly.
“Will you keep growling at me when your cock is in my mouth?” I ask him.
His eyes widen, his face reddening at the sudden vision of me going down on him in his mind. “Maybe.” I flick the last button free and he says, “five,” without even an ounce of annoyance.
I laugh and shove the shirt over his shoulders. He shrugs it free and lets it drop to the ground without complaint. Cash is covered in tattoos, but Oak only has a few. One on his chest, right over his heart, a set of angel wings, and another on his upper arm, just a ring of barbed wire that somehow feels very cowboy in its simplicity.
He’s wearing a large belt buckle and belt so I reach for that, popping it open before pulling it from his belt loops with a jerk. He shifts with me on his lap to allow it to pull free easier, and he doesn’t fight. His hands remain at his side, but when I slide down his thighs and down to the ground, they jerk back up to his thighs.
“Take your hand,” I say to him, looking at the cameras so the subscribers know that I’m talking to them, too. “Run it over your cock through your jeans. All of you.”
I have a mic clipped onto my strap, that way it’ll pick up all the sounds and nuances of my voice. As Oak reaches down to stroke himself, I unclip it and hold it close so that it picks up the sound of his rough hand running over the worn jeans.
“That’s it,” I encourage low. “Touch yourself and think about what a good little bat you are.”
Oak groans. “The things I’m going to do to you . . .”
“Is that a threat?” I tease. I reach up and run my hand up his thigh.
I expect him to come back with “it’s a promise.” He doesn’t. Instead, he looks me in the eyes as he grabs his thick cock in his jeans and says, “Yes.”
My lips part in surprise and his own quirk up in amusement, clearly pleased to get a reaction out of me.
“Why don’t you get up here and rub that sweet pussy against this, Vanta?” he growls. “I’ll introduce you to the real reason we’re called The Velvet Rodeo.”
“It’s not your turn,” I rasp.
“You’re on your knees before me,” he points out.
“Am I?” I stand and his eyes narrow. As one last little tease, I lean down in his face, holding his eye contact as I reach down and stroke my own fingers over the hardness in his jeans. He shifts toward me, desperate for my touch, eager for it, but that’s not how this goes. I tilt my cheek toward him, offering him a chance to kiss me there. He leans forward, and instead of aiming for my cheek, his hits my jawline. I expect a press of lips. Perhaps I haven’t done my full research on Oak because instead of a kiss, he bites me, not hard, but just enough to make me jump. I can tell he wants to grab me and drag me over his lap, but he restrains himself, only because he knows I’m in charge for this time. It’s not the full scene we plan. It’s only a tease and a test.
As far as the test goes, I’d say it’s successful. We all have chemistry. Clearly, this is going to be a hit.
“My turn?” Cash asks eagerly.
“Patience, Little Bat,” I encourage him, running my hand over his shoulders as I pass. “Touch yourself until it is.”
Sawyer isn’t wearing a shirt, so there’s no making him count with me as I unbutton it. Instead, I come over and straddle him. His hands go to my hips, but I don’t make him move his hands. It’s clear he’s using me as a frame for where everything is.
“How about you, little bat?” I purr. “Will you be a good boy for me?”
“Anything you want, beautiful,” he murmurs.
His jaw is clean shaven, but there’s a little scruff there where it’s already starting to grow in. I run my hand along that spot, leaning the mic in close so it picks up the sound. I grab his hand from my hip and run it up my stomach, trailing his callused hands along my exposed skin, along my abdomen, up between my breasts. His eyes are focused on me as his hand strokes along me, as he lets me lead him through this touch. When I pull his hand to my throat and wrap his fingers around there, he squeezes gently, understanding he’s not in control despite the position.
I tip back on his lap, and grind down against the hardness pressing against me. He sucks in a breath, and his hand squeezes tighter briefly before releasing. I grind down again, rubbing myself against his cock.
“Fuck,” Cash draws out.
“Do you want your cock out?” I ask Sawyer.
“Fuck yeah I do,” Cash answers instead.
