Page 93 of Wrangled

I couldn’t resist. “And is it long and hard?”

“You bet. But I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to fuck you. We’ll see.”

Yeah, Kevin had a rival for the teasing crown.

He gestured to the bed. “Lie down, please, on your back in the center.”

I did as instructed, my pulse rapid, my stomach quivering.

He gazed at my already hard cock. “You look as if you’re ready to pop right now.”

“But I won’t,” I stressed. “Not until you give me permission.” I knew the score, and I wasn’t going to fall at the first hurdle.

At least, I hoped I wasn’t.

“Now, I’m not going to tie you to the bed—unless I feel you need that. Iamgoing to play with your cock, balls, and ass, andyourgoal is not to come.”

There was only one possible response. “Yes, Sir.”

He pointed to my legs. “Spread them, as wide as you can. Then grab the bed posts and hold on. You’re not to let go unless I say so, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” I suppressed a shiver when he climbed onto the bed and slid his hand down my torso, skirting my crotch but tracing a fingertip through the crease where groin met thigh. His fingers danced over my quads, and I stifled a moan when he changed direction and inched closer to my balls.

His gaze met mine. “I want to hear you, all right? Don’t hold back.” Then I caught my breath when he picked up the piece of rope. He held it to my sac, trailing the frayed ends over my balls, keeping the touch light. I shivered as he moved it higher, the ends playing over my shaft that lay stiffly against my belly. Higher still, until the rope teased the head of my dick.

“That kinda tickles.”

He chuckled. “It’s supposed to.” Then he cupped my balls, tugging them down as he rubbed the head with the frayed end, flicking it, tapping it, until I couldn’t hold in my groan of pleasure. I gripped the bed posts, my back arched, and he laid a hand on my stomach and gave a gentle downward push.

“We’re only just getting started.” He dropped the rope onto the floor.

Oh Lord.

He picked up the bottle of oil, snapped the lid open, and held it over the head of my cock, allowing a glistening strand to descend, trickling over the taut skin and down the shaft. Then he put the bottle aside, and held my balls while he worked up and down my cock, alternating between stroking it firmly with his fingertips and grazing it with his nails. I wanted tomove, damn it, to push up with my hips, but I fought the urge.

“Good.”

That one word of praise sent my heart soaring.

He grasped my dick around its base with one hand while he rubbed the shaft, circling it with thumb and forefinger, tightening his grip with each upward stroke, looser on the downward one.

I had no idea how long he teased my rock-hard cock, but I got close to coming more than once, and each time he backed off, rubbing my belly and chest, flicking my nipples. When he reached for the oil, I knew there was more to come.

Talk about exquisite torture.

Toby

I dribbled oil over his balls and crack, my heartbeat racing as I contemplated sliding into his warm body. I rubbed my finger over his hole, and a jolt went through him. I leaned over to kiss him. “You want this, don’t you?”

He swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

I stroked over his hole again and again, until he was shaking with need. I inserted the tip of my finger inside him, while I rubbed the head of his cock with my palm using firm strokes. His shivers intensified. I made sure his gaze was fixed on me when I pushed deep.

“Oh God.” He arched his back, and I gave another gentle push.

“Easy now. We’re not there yet.” I slid out of him, watching his dick rise into the air when I penetrated him once more. I sought out his gland, and was rewarded when a strangled noise burst from his lips as I nudged it. I finger-fucked him, adding a second and noting how his calves and inner thighs trembled. He was getting close.

“Does it feel good?”

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