Page 20 of Moon Blind Hearts
But Sawyer understands the question is for him. He breathes out. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” I ask.
“Yes, Mistress,” he adds, his hand on my hip squeezing. “Please.”
I smile and reach between us, pulling at the button hiding him away from me. “Unzip with me, little bats.”
As I slowly unzip Sawyer’s jeans, I hear Oak and Cash do the same. As Sawyer’s cock springs free into my hand, I can’t help but wrap my fingers around him and stroke. His head tips back and he groans, his hands still on my neck and hip. I look down at him in my hand and my heartrate kicks higher. I look between the three of them, seeing that the other two are stroking their own cocks, and my mouth runs dry.
But that’s not what we’re here for today.
I slide off Sawyer’s lap and walk around behind him. “Stroke your cock,” I whisper in his ear and I touch his neck, stroking my fingers along his flesh. His hand wraps around his cock and starts to pump slowly.
Pressing a kiss against his throat, I touch him everywhere but where he likely wants me to, stroking his arms, his thighs, his chest, his neck. Never his cock. Not after that first initial touch.
I move back over to Cash languidly, smiling at the sight of him stroking himself rougher than the others. He’s already burning with desperate release, his eyes on mine as I trail closer.
“See,” he rasps out. “I’m a good boy.”
“You are,” I encourage, stroking his shoulders and arms, refusing to touch his cock, driving him so mad, the tip of his cock starts to weep. “Keep going.”
He tips his head back and I lean down to whisper in his ear. “Pretty little bat,” I rasp. “So eager for me. So ready.”
“So ready,” he growls, stroking himself harder. “You could ride me right now. I won’t touch you.”
I chuckle. “This is about the tease.” I unclip the mic again and hold it close so it picks up the sound of him violently jerking his cock in his hand, the sounds recording for everyone to hear. I kneel before him and press my cheek against his thigh as he spreads them for me, clearly thinking I’m going to put my mouth on him. Instead, I lean forward and blow hot breath across the tip. It jerks in his hands and he moans above me. I reach forward and stroke his balls through his jeans, refusing to touch his cock, driving him so insane, he drips for me.
“Perfect,” I murmur and then turn to Oak. “Your turn, little bat.”
But there isn’t anything little about Oak. I was right about his cock. It’s thick and long, bigger than any I’ve encountered in the wild. He’s certainly proportional. As I meet his eyes and start to crawl toward him on hands and knees, he tenses, his hand around his cock pumping slow and steady. When I reach him, he spreads his thighs to make room for me, watching as I trail my hands up his legs, along his thighs.
“I suppose you won’t touch me,” he says, watching me closely.
“You’re doing so well by yourself,” I reply. “Just as all my little bats are.” I lean in closer, as if I might take him into my mouth. I stroke around his groin with my hands, avoiding the area he wants me to touch, breathing on him, making his cock jump is desperation. A small bead of precum appears at the tip, and I groan. “So pretty.”
“Pretty isn’t a word I’d use for myself,” Oak groans, leaning his head back.
I stand and move around behind him. “Why not?”
“I’m too rough. Too scarred. Too callused.” And in his words, I can tell he doesn’t mean just physically.
I run my fingers along his exposed throat, careful to avoid the pearls there. I lean down and press my lips to his Adam’s apple. He swallows thickly.
“That’s what makes you pretty,” I whisper. And then because I’m supposed to be playing for the cameras, I press my chest against his shoulders and stroke along his chest and arms. “I want you to come for me, Iron Buckle. For all of us.”
I scrap my fingers through his chest hair and run my lips across his neck, kissing and nibbling, sending his breathing into erratic pants. “Come for me,” I order again.
He groans, his fist pumping along his cock. “Fuck.” When I kiss him right beneath his ear and bite down, his groans turn into guttural release. The sound he makes in his throat is raw as he does what I command, his cock jumping as his release begins to drip down his hand.
“Good boy,” I rasp. Grabbing his hand, I raise it to my face, and with our eyes meeting, I lick his release from his hand.
He’s out of his chair before I realize things have changed, looming above me like a giant. Where I’d been holding his hand, he’s suddenly holding mine between us. He’s much taller than me, especially when I’m not wearing any shoes and he’s in boots. But none of that matters when he’s broken the scene.
“Sit down, little bat,” I tell him.
He hesitates, clearly realizing he shouldn’t be standing up. He looks at the cameras around us, and then instead of moving over to the chair again, he slowly starts to sink to his knees. My eyes widen as I watch him lower himself before me. This is it. This is the natural scene break, the ultimate tease. I glance at the others to see that they’re in agreeance.
I wait until Oak is fully on his knees before me, this big brutal cowboy kneeling like he’s praying. When he’s down, I lean forward and grab his beard roughly, making sure the mic is close enough to catch my voice. As I hold him here, the man who wants all control and gives it up to me, the corner of my lip curls up.
