Page 210 of Phobia
He took his sweet time, pressing kisses over my jaw, my neck, and my shoulders. His kisses trailed down my stomach, to my hips, and toward where I really needed those hot lips of his to land. He exhaled warm air along my cock, but then passed over it and moved to my legs, pressing those same slow kisses down my thighs and over my calves, once he bent my legs so he could reach them. I was trembling with need by the time he worked his way back up to my jaw. And about five seconds from cussing him out, which he knew, given the glint in his eyes as he grabbed the bottle of lube from my nightstand and flipped the cap open.
He took an agonizingly slow ten minutes toying with me, working my hole open, the bastard.
“Ugh,” I groaned as he slipped the tip of his dick inside me, only to pull out a few seconds later. “I really hate you right now,” I whined. He chuckled and slid back in several inches. And pulled back out. Again.
“Please,” I begged him with absolutely zero shame. “I need you inside me.” My hips rocked, searching for contact again. My arms were bound above my head by one of his hands. He sucked on my nipples as he entered me, and—halle-fucking-lujah—began to thrust deep inside me, over and over, slowly but steadily. This time when he pulled out, I nearly cried, throwing a glare of frustration his way.
“Aww, babe. You asked me to fuck you, did you not?” He slid in at a slightly different angle, hitting my prostate and making me moan and my back arch up in pleasure. He followed that with several shallow thrusts and pulled out almost entirely. The man had a will of iron, because this had to be torturing him as much as it was me. My lips met his in a hard, rough kiss that was more biting than anything.
“Please,” I begged again, panting for air after he pulled back. “Enough.”
He released my arms and shifted so he took the brunt of his weight on his shins and feet, then smacked my hands away when I tried to grab for both of our dicks.
“I love the way you look when you beg for my cock, Graysin. All wrecked and flushed, and those pretty lips of yours swollen with my kisses.”
“Great,” I said on a breathy exhale, squeezing my eyes shut. “Now for the love of all that is holy, if you have any feelings for me at all, fuck me, Kellen,please.”
His body tensed and my eyes flashed open at the sudden change.
“Zane,” he said in a low voice.
“What?”
“Kellen is actually my middle name,” he explained, louder now. “My first name is Zane. I sometimes go by my middle name, but I’m kind of…done with that now.” He cleared his throat. “So, I’d prefer if you called me Zane.”
“Oh, um, okay. Honestly, right now I don’t care if your first name is goose shit. I’ll call you whatever you want.” His muscles visibly relaxed and he drew his shoulders back. I pointed between us with one finger. “Shove that fat cock inside my ass and rail me.Thatis what I care about right now. Don’t hold back. Mark me up. Rearrange my guts. Please, Zane.” I’d take the pain, welcomed it. I wanted to remember this moment when I woke up tomorrow, and every memory we made after that.
Zane—that would take some getting used to, no matter how flippant my words were—bit his bottom lip, attempting to hold back a blossoming smile. It made a dimple pop in his left cheek that I’d never noticed before, and I decided that, other than his dick, it was my favorite part of him today.
He wrapped his fist around my cock and stroked. “You really are my wild little kitten, aren’t you? Always that mixture of cocky and sweet.”
His words gave me pause. My brows dipped together, and I brought my hands to my chest, lacing my fingers and rubbing at my palms with my thumbs again. I watched him watching me as his words tumbled around in my brain, searching for and finding the other words they sought.
Oh, don’t worry, kitten. I’ve got plans for you.
Such a good little kitten you are.
You are a bit of a wild thing, aren’t ya?
And this is for Graysin.
A sharp exhale burst from my lungs as my eyes widened. Zane withdrew his hand from me, and I sat up slowly. Reaching forward, I cupped his face with my hands and felt along his jawline, the way a sculptor might assess and admire a finished sculpture.
“Demon?” I whispered.
Zane winked, and I flopped back to the mattress. It was so quiet, the faint sound of the analog clock in the hallway could be heard from here. I allowed myself thirty seconds to flip the fuck out inside and then decide what to do. Only…I didn’t flip the fuck out. Instead, I took a deep, steadying breath, and beckoned to Zane with one finger.
He gently laid down over me again and brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. I wrapped my legs around his waist and jutted my chin out. If I could overcome certain obstacles in my life—and I had and would continue to—I could certainly be with whomever the fuck I wanted to be with, whether it made sense on paper or not.
We kissed. It was full of hope and new beginnings, at least for me. For Zane too, I thought. He was done hiding behind the mask, and I was choosing my own path.
As we kissed, I felt around for and found the bottle of lube and slipped it beside him, so it was within easy reach. I pulled back enough to catch my breath and to look Zane in his curious brown eyes, then shook my head and chuckled. “I’m going to hell, Demon.” He tilted my chin up and kissed me once.
“Kitten, I’ll follow you anywhere.”
***
The End.
