Page 14 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. Two
When Oliver licks across my bottom lip, I open my mouth just enough for him to get a taste of me. Then I slide my tongue inside his mouth, reminding him who’s in charge. He groans, rolling his hips into mine.
“You never did have any patience, did you, O?”
Pulling away, I spin Oliver around so he’s facing away from me. I undo his pants and shove them down with his boxers. Not all the way—just enough that his cock springs free.
“Spit on my hand.”
He does, and I do too before reaching around him and spreading the saliva on his dick. With an expert grip, I stroke up and down, watching Oliver’s reaction in the mirror. He’s trying not to make any noise, holding onto the counter for balance.
“Rhett, anyone could walk in,” he protests halfheartedly.
“Mmm, and they’d find you in such a compromising position, wouldn’t they?” I squeeze gently at his tip before making my way back down.
“Shit,” he hisses, gripping the counter more tightly.
He knows I’m right. He’s the one with his dick out in a public bathroom, not me. Not that I’d care either way—I stopped caring about other people’s opinions years ago. Oliver has come a long way in doing the same, but apparently he needs another lesson.
“Look at me,” I murmur softly.
He meets my gaze in the mirror.
“You don’t have to hide parts of yourself from her.”
He grunts as I lightly squeeze the head of his cock again before moving back down, falling into a pattern. “Are we really having this conversation right now?”
“There’s no better time.” My lips brush up his neck until they’re right next to his ear. “You’re always more obedient when you want to come.”
Oliver lets out a low whine, and it’s one of the most delicious sounds I’ve ever heard. He moves his hips in time with my hand, and I can’t help but smirk at him.
“So desperate, aren’t you?”
“Rhett—fuck.”
“Are you going to listen to me?”
Oliver is giving me a look that’s half lust and half irritation. But he pants out, “Fine. Yes. I’ll listen.”
“Good boy,” I say lowly.
He melts. Fucking putty in my hands.
“She’s not going to judge you.”
“I—I know.”
“And self-expression is nothing to be ashamed of.”
It takes him a second to catch his breath before he says, “I know, I promise.”
“Then why? Why did I have to haul you back upstairs?”
“Because—fuck, god, Rhett. Shit.” He breaks our gaze, staring at my hand as I work his cock.
“Spit on my hand again.”
He does immediately.
“See? So obedient.”
