Page 84 of Sweet Shots

“Fuck you,” he growls, panting.

I lift up, sitting on my knees and scooting back so I can get a better look.

He can act like he hates me all he wants, but if he did, if he hated what I’m doing to him, he wouldn’t be listening so well and not moving.

His hands are gripped beneath the headboard, holding on for dear life, and his body is still in the place it was when he first laid down. I told him not to move, to hold on, and he has. He wants me to let him come—he needs it. I’ve been teasing him for nearly thirty minutes now, but a part of him must love this. He could easily get up and walk away. Jerk himself off. Probably even come if he closed his eyes and thought about it hard enough.

His dick is so stiff it feels like steel, the tip bright red and angry, needing to be sucked a little more. I can’t see his tight little hole,but I bet it’s clenching for my fingers, wanting to be filled some more.

I run my thumb along my bottom lip as I take him in.

My dick is hard too.

I want to come too.

Seeing him like this, begging and desperate, is driving me fucking mad. But I have the advantage because I already got to come today. He sucked my dick in the car.

This is his punishment for acting like a brat all day. I told him I would do it, and either he didn’t believe me or, the better option, he wanted this.

He definitely wanted this.

Mikah’s a glutton for being dominated by me, giving up control to me, and letting me take over. His brain shuts off, and it allows him to do nothing butfeel. It’s a rush on my end too. I love this.

We got back to my house after the mall, and we talked about what was brought up at lunch—the jealousy thing. He swears he trusts me and said we didn’t need to keep going on about it. I didn’t want to start an argument, so I dropped it. But I’m not convinced. I’ll keep it in the back of my mind and reassure him as often as he needs it. One day, he will be confident in this.

“I don’t know what I want to do to you next,” I say as I look him over. “There are so many options.”

Play with his nipples. Tease his dick. Fuck him with my fingers—fuck him with my dick. Make him choke onmine. Tell him to touch himself. Spread his legs and fuck his own ass with his fingers…

That sounds like a good one. We haven’t done that yet.

“Don’t move,” I say before hopping off the bed and leaving the room. I stop in the doorway and look back at him. “And do not touch that dick. It’smine.”

He growls again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. I hurry downstairs to the dining room, grab a chair to bring upstairs, and set it at the end of the bed. I should keep one in my room for situations like this.

“What the fuck is that for?” he asks.

“Sitting, obviously.”

“Why?” he spits out.

I sit down, spreading my legs and leaning back.

“Because I’m going to watch you fuck yourself with your fingers. I’m going to watch you stroke your prostate and drive yourself crazy. I’m going to watch you bring yourself to the brink of exploding, and then pull away, because you’restillnot allowed to come yet.”

His eyes are wild, wide, nearly bulging out of his head.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask when he doesn’t move. “Lube is right there.” I point to the spot on the bed where the bottle is.

“I’m not—I can’t—”

“You’ll be able to stop, don’t worry.”

“No—”

“Yes, you will. Because I’m here and you’re going to listen to me.” I lean forward. “Now pick up that lube, spread it all over your fingers, and fuck your ass before you make me angry.”

He’s panting heavier than he was before, deep breaths that come out in huffs. Mikah lets go of the headboard, leaning over to snatch the bottle of lube. With trembling fingers, he pours some into his hand, pulls his legs up and circles two fingers over his hole.

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