Page 62 of Wilde's End
His attention drops to where I’m massaging my palm into my dick, and when it lifts back to my face, he’s glaring. Hudson has obviously figured out that I’m not playing with my request. Now it’s up to him to decide how badly he wants it.
Will he give in and do what I want?
Or will he test me?
It doesn’t matter how much I want this, if he tries to push back, I’m gone. We’ll try again another day until he works out that I’m not giving up control for anyone. What I say goes, and he might enjoy testing that in general, but he’s going to figure out that when it comes to sex, I don’t relent.
We watch each other for too long. I’m already intimately acquainted with those cute moles by his eyebrow, with that pouty top lip, and the way his mouth gives everything away, even when there’s no sound coming out of it. I’m sure he’s waiting for some hesitation from me. Some sense of doubt.
I give him none.
And his mouth tells me the second he’s made his decision when his lips flatten into disgust and he leans forward onto his hands.
“You’re fucked-up,” he gets out between his teeth.
“You knew that when you invited me here.”
Still, I’m not forcing him to do anything. And when Hudson gets onto his hands and knees, back dipped into a sexy curve, something hot and consuming fills his eyes. He stalks toward me like a predator.
I expect him to get it over with, but he takes his time, shoulder blades rising and falling with each pace as his rounded ass, high in the air, draws my gaze, and I wish I could see more. I desperately want him to crawl away from me next, but I already know I won’t get away with this twice. So I enjoy every second of him giving in to me.
My cock hardens the closer he gets, and when he comes to a stop at my feet, he rests on his knees and reaches for my fly. Hudson’s narrowed eyes dare me to stop him, but I drink in every movement instead, clutching my crossed arms tighter so that I don’t reach for him.
That hair is begging me to thread my fingers through it.
“Good boy,” I taunt.
“Fuck you.” He gets my pants open, then tugs my briefs down under my balls. The heady sound he lets out before leaning forward feels almost as good as his tongue flicking over my slit. The puff of warm air against my heated skin has my bodybegging for more, but I know better than to let any of those thoughts out.
“It’s a crime this cock is attached to you, by the way,” he mutters, mouth brushing my tip.
“Why don’t you punish me by sucking until it hurts.”
“I will … if you promise to give our tools back.”
That sentence brings me up short. He’s about to close his mouth around me when I give in and rest my hand on his head. I turn his face so he can see me and tighten my grip in his hair.
“I don’t negotiate during sex. If you want something, you’re going to have to resort to more than blow jobs to get it.” My grip in his hair is a warning. “If you suck it, you’re sucking it because you want to.”
I loosen my hold but leave my hand where it is. We trade glares, and I wait for him to call this off, but after a second, Hudson leans in. Those plump lips seal around my dick, and no matter who the hell is on the end of the blow job, this is fucking bliss. He sinks down onto my cock, wrapping it in wet warmth, tongue massaging the underside as he attempts to drive me out of my mind.
I’ve been horny for days, and he’s not taking things easy on me.
Hudson looks so fucking pretty with my dick in his mouth.
“You have stupid eyelashes,” I tell him, rocking forward into the sweet suction.
His glare lessens for a second as he bats them at me. It has no right to be so seductive, has no right to hold my attention the way it does. I look down at him, wishing I was looking at literally anyone else, while knowing this wouldn’t feel as good if it were.
The permanent irritation only heightens the way I have to have him. Hudson makes my whole body hum completely againstmy will, and I thrust deeper into his mouth each time he swallows me down.
There’s something about towering over him, using him, knowing he’s as conflicted over this as I am that really turns me on. We’re so attracted to each other that nothing else matters. Not when it feels this good.
The suction and the way he hums around me work against each other until I can’t see straight. A heavy “fuck” shivers from my lips before I can stop it, filling the dark and quiet room with evidence of my need. Hudson could be an asshole and pull off now, leave me aching and blue-balled, but he answers me with a moan and moves faster.
His uninjured hand is between his legs, stroking himself, eyes having long fallen closed, and I greedily drink in the sight of him in the darkness of his room, panting, spit covering his chin, tufts of hair sticking out between my fingers as he sucks on my cock like he’ll die if he stops.
And thank fuck for that because I’d die if he stopped too.
