Page 23 of A Totally Platonic Thing
I took a step toward him, knowing I was probably looming over him and not goddamn caring anymore.
“You’re a fucking brat, Chris,” I snarled at him, low and rough. “Sometimes I think I should treat you like one instead of pretending you’re a functioning adult. Maybe I should put you over my knee and teach you a lesson.”
I expected him to shout at me, or start crying for real, or apologize, or…anything but what happened. He’d been as pale as a sheet of printer paper, but as I watched, his cheeks went blotchy red.
And not just his cheeks. His throat and the part of his chest exposed by the low dip of his undershirt, and all along his collarbones, started flushing rosy pink. And he shifted on his feet.
He looked shifty, full stop.
Fuck. That wasn’t Chris’s angry blush. I’d seen him aroused hundreds of times, sitting there getting all hot and bothered by whatever we were watching together. First his cheeks got pink, and then it spread down over his neck, to his shirt and under.
He never blushed like that any other time.
Jesus fucking Christ. Thatturned him on.
The thought of me putting him across my lap, pulling down his pants, smacking his ass, making him squirm and cry out, holding him down while he begged me to stop…turned him on.
Something in the pit of my stomach clenched into a hard, aching knot.
Chris looked up at me, eyes wide, and licked his lips.
“What?” I rasped at him, still furious, horribly unsettled, needing to put whatever the hell I was feeling back on him. “What the fuck are you looking at me like that for? Do you want me to, or something?”
I hoped he’d deny it, laugh in my face and lose that pretty flush down his chest and stop gazing at me with those huge green eyes.
He didn’t.
He closed them for a second, as if he couldn’t bear to meet my eyes, and licked his lips again. And then bit the lower one. Opened his eyes again, and this time the look in them hit me like a blow to the chest.
I took another step, so close now we were almost touching. I could feel the heat of his body.
“You seriously fucking want me to, Chris. Right now? Is that what you fucking want? No Aeon, no drinks, noAidan,” I spat. “Just me. Giving you what you deserve.”
He released his abused lower lip, now all red and swollen, and he let out a soft, helpless little whimper. For someone who watched porn without the volume up, he sure knew how to make noises that sounded like they belonged in porn.
And that went straight to my cock. No guy, straight or gay or anywhere in between, could hear a sound like that from a mouth that fucking pretty and not get at least half hard.
His eyes went impossibly wider, until I couldn’t see anything else. “Lucas,” he whispered.
And that was fuckingit.
I grabbed him by the waist and spun him around, ignoring his squeak of maybe-protest, and dropped down to sit on his bed, angling myself a little so I could yank him over my lap with his upper body on the bed, his legs hanging down. He flailed, trying to lift his head, but I planted one hand firmly between his shoulder blades while I took hold of the waistband of his jeans and tore them off his ass. Since he hadn’t fastened them, they slid down to right above his knees.
“Lucas!” he wailed.
I ignored him, transfixed by the sight of his wriggling, jiggling red-boxer-brief-clad ass, sticking up right there in front of me. Those had to go too, right? You didn’t dish out a spanking to someone who had underwear on. What would be the point?
When I grabbed the waistband of the boxer-briefs, my fingers pressing into the small of Chris’s back, he moaned and started to struggle for real, shoving himself up on his arms and kicking, fighting the hand I still had pushing him down.
I held him harder, pinning him, and yanked the underwear down his legs too.
And Chris went limp like I’d cut his strings, his face buried in his blankets and his whole body shaking with how hard he was breathing.
Well, almost limp.
Part of him was far from limp, and it pushed insistently against my leg.
Fuck, he was hard. He had a full erection, and I had it digging into my thigh, Chris’s cock. Touching my bare skin, hot and damp at the tip. I shuddered with something…I couldn’t define it. Something electric and strange. Fuck, and that was Chris’s bare ass right there, soft and pale and satiny-smooth. He had slim, straight hips, so it didn’t curve to the sides like a woman’s would have, but it curved straight up, round and perky.
