Page 340 of Phobia
Skin on skin is how I prefer us to be, but I’ve left his robe and my jeans on tonight.
His thumb rubs circles over my left nipple. The jolts of pleasure go straight to my cock, straining the fabric of my jeans.
He cups my whole pec next and gives it a tentative squeeze, but my hitched breathing spurs him on. I see the locks of light blond hair wriggle and move as he shimmies closer and closes his mouth over my right nipple. His lips are over my areola and his tongue brushes my nipple with fluttering fast movements.
He suckles greedily. Hungry for me. For something only I can give him.
The tip of my dick makes its way to my waistband. I’m so fucking turned on, I can’t think.
My angel has come into my life, fully aware of how much I love my nipples played with. He is perfect that way it seems, and I’m not going to question it. I let him suckle greedily on my hard bud.
His low grunts of pleasure drown out all my thoughts. The only thing that would make this better is being able to look at his face while he feasts on my flesh.
I think I’m gonna come, and he hasn’t even touched my dick yet.
I want it, but…but…I need to know he’s right there with me. I need to be certain he’s fully aware. I want him to know, this means something to me, and the acts of pleasure I experience at his hands aren’t a means to an end. He doesn’t need to do this if this isn’t what he wants.
Oh fuck, I don’t want him to stop.
Not even for a second.
But I’d rather know he wants me.
Me.
Only me.
“Angel?”
He stills and his heart starts beating so fast I’m immediately on high alert.
I calmly plead, “Please don’t be afraid. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I swear to you, I only want to keep you safe.”Safely locked away.
He doesn’t pry himself away from me, but his body curls to my side, so delicate and light.
I hear his breathing hitch, and then a sudden pitiful sob escapes his lips.
I turn and loom over him, my hair draping over us, like a curtain. His face is shielded from the bright light that way. Once I gently pry away his hands from his face, he blinks at me with those big beautiful sad grey eyes full of tears.
“Angel? Don’t fear me.”Not yet.“I won’t hurt you.”Not tonight.
His eyes are locked on mine as another tiny sniffle makes his slight chest rise and fall. His white robe has parted revealing his torso. I place my hand above his heart to feel him. To show him he is mine now. He shouldn’t be afraid if he is ready to give himself to me.
I wait.
His hand rises and covers mine, so much more delicate. His fine fingers curl over mine and he presses my hand closer, holding me tighter. I feel his heart galloping, tearing through his frail flesh. It delights me I’m doing this to him.
“Please,” he pleads with me. For a moment there I’m feeling a profound sense of disappointment clawing at the back of my mind. He swallows, then bravely reaches for my face, cupping my cheek with his slender hand and whispers, “Don’t banish me. I’m ready. Kill me now. I’ll be good. I won’t struggle. I promise.” A ragged breath tears through his chest as he tries to be brave and hold his tears back. “I won’t make a sound.”
Dear lord, he is perfect.
I look at him in awe.
Where have you been all my life?
I wish to ask him, but instead I shake my head because he’s rendered me speechless. He frames my face with his hands, searching my eyes. I should reassure him, but he is so lovely when he feverishly whispers, “Please,” over and over again.
I lean closer and feel him pulling me down to himself. Our noses brush and then our lips join.
