Page 76 of Forever Not Yours

He bit his bottom lip, that stunning blush creeping over his cheeks. His cock? Rock hard. I held out my hand, walked right up to him and took the gloves from him. Put them on, one finger at a time. Slower than I needed to, but hey. This was me, and he was being slowly tortured. The anticipation. The way he was stroking himself. Naughty.

“Hands behind your back. Don’t make me have to tie you up.”

He did as he was told. Shuffled closer. His arse was on the edge of the sofa as I combed my gloved fingers through his hair.

“Get my pants down.”

“With my teeth or what?”

Oh, yeah. He was smiling. I did too. Fucking hell.

“With your teeth.”

This was fun. He did it as well. Licked up my belly button as I tugged my top over my head, then scraped his teeth down my stomach. Small kisses. Oh, yes. And I didn’t mind. Nope, not at all, my dick happily filling out as he tugged at the fabric, pushing down my scrubs and my boxers, digging in there as I fisted the hair at the back of his head.

“Good boy.” I made him look up at me, arch his neck back.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out,” I demanded.

A flicker of fear in his eyes. I liked it. Oh, yes.

“Colour?” I asked.

“Green.” He winked. The little shit.

My hand had to fish out my dick, poking it just over the elastic waistband that was now hanging low on my hips. Still, good enough. Holding my dick in one hand, I cupped his head with the other, moving down his neck, then up, grabbing his chin. He held my gaze the entire time. Just looked at me the way I looked at him.

Mine. All mine. Because he was. Always. And there was nothing more important in my life than makinghim happy. To love him and nurture him and bring all this out for him.

His mouth was open, his tongue out, just the way I’d asked. I placed the head of my dick gently on his tongue, let him feel the weight of it, a drop of saliva forming in the corner of his mouth. Oh, yes.

“Suck,” I demanded, and he did, slowly closing his lips around my skin. Loose, soft, just the way I liked it. And then, movement. Slow, gentle licks from his tongue, his full mouth. I kept hold of his head, one glove back in his hair, tracing his lips with a finger. I push in at the corner, fighting for space in that dirty mouth of his, alongside my dick.

I pulled out, pushed my finger back in all the way to the back, making him gag.

“You can take this, Bastien. Just do it. Colour?”

“Green.” He wiped his mouth with his hand, then put it behind his back. Perhaps I should punish him for that, but then? I smiled. Such a good boy, back in position, his mouth open, asking for more.

He got it. Of course he did. A deep, firm slide back in, enough for him to make a little sound, before I slid out. And back in. Smooth. Wet. Warmth.

“Good boy,” I whispered, pulling out and letting the slit of my dick paint his bottom lip, then the top, teasing him gently before roughly feeding him the whole length again.

He could take it, even if he spluttered a little when I pulled out and once again replaced my dick with my gloved finger and made him suck on the leather. Greedily, he let me push further, all the way to the back of his throat, as he made that desperate sound and looked up at me with watery eyes. I held on. He let me. Because he was mine, and I was his. Because I would never hurt him, and he would never hurt me either.

“I love you,” I said out loud.

He said nothing back, because how could he? My fingers were still in his mouth. I slid them out, wiped all that wetness from his face.

I didn’t have to speak, because he knew what he wanted, turning around, letting my hands guide his hips as I positioned him over the back of the sofa. Moved his legs further apart with my knees and once again gathered his hands behind his back. Held them firmly in place as I stroked my dick.

“There’s lube on the table,” he huffed out.

“Do you deserve lube?”

“Need to be able to sit down.”

Oh, yes. Good point.

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