Page 95 of Shut Up and Score
His grip tightens in my hair, holding me in place as he drags his pierced cock across my tongue, slow enough to make me whimper. Every pass of that barbell is electric, a jolt straight to the ache in my shorts. I can barely breathe around him, barely think, but I don’t want to. I just want to give in.
“God, I should flip you over,” he growls, hips stuttering as he pushes deeper. “Bury myself in that tight ass of yours and fuck you till you forget your own damn name.”
A strangled sound escapes me, muffled around him, my entire body thrumming with need.
“Yeah, I bet you’d like that,” he says, voice rough. “But you didn’t come prepared, did you? No lube, no condom. Just showed up like a needy little slut, hoping I’d wreck your mouth instead.”
I groan around him, and he laughs low and dark. We both know neither of us expected this.
“That’s right. Tonight, you’re just my toy.” He rocks his hips, letting me feel the piercing drag along my tongue before sliding almost to the back of my throat. “And you’re gonna take every fucking inch I give you.”
Tears sting my eyes from the stretch and the angle, but I can’t stop the hum of need vibrating out of me. Micah’s breathing grows heavier, his abs flexing as he fucks into my mouth in measured, hungry thrusts. My hips move restlessly against nothing, my cock throbbing again, dripping in my ruined shorts.
“Fuck, Colton,” he rasps, the sound feral. “You look so good like this—my ex-best friend, my screw-up quarterback, flat on his back, choking on my cock. God, I should’ve done this years ago.”
I whimper, throat tightening around him as he pushes deep enough to make me swallow around the piercing. His groan fills the room, filthy and victorious.
“Mm, yeah. That’s it. Take me. Let me fuck that pretty mouth till you can’t talk your way out of anything ever again.”
He doesn’t let up. Every thrust is a reminder, every drag of metal over my tongue a claim he never made before, but I wanted all along. My whole body shudders, tension coiling hot and unbearable.
Micah’s pace turns relentless, his hips snapping forward in rough, hungry thrusts that make the mattress creak under my back. Every push forces his pierced cock deeper over my tongue, the metal barbell sending sparks through my nerves. My eyes are watering, spit pooling at the corners of my mouth, but I can’t stop the needy hum vibrating in my chest.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he grits out, voice a rasp of need and triumph. “Look at you—fuck—taking me so fucking good. I could keep you like this all night, you know that?”
I groan around him, hips bucking helplessly against the air. The wet sound of him using my mouth is obscene, filling the room along with his ragged breaths. I want to touch myself, want to grind against him, but he doesn’t give me the chance.
“No,” Micah growls, his palm reaching back and pressing hard against my sternum to keep me flat. “You don’t get to do anything until I’m done with you. You earned this.”
The words hit as hard as his thrusts—shame and desire twisting together until I can barely see straight. He shifts his weight, angling my head just the way he wants, and drives in deep enough to make me swallow around the piercing. My throat convulses, and his answering groan is filthy, unrestrained.
“God, yes—fuck—your mouth was made for me.” He’s panting now, hips stuttering with the edge of release. “Gonna finish in that pretty mouth, Colton. You’re gonna swallow all of it like the good little bottom I always knew you were.”
I moan around him, eyes squeezing shut as he pushes past my last shred of control. His hand fists tighter in my hair, holding me down as his whole body goes rigid.
“Fuck—fuck, take it—swallow it all?—”
Hot, salty spurts hit the back of my throat, and I choke down every drop, tears spilling over as my cock throbs helplessly in my soaked shorts. Micah doesn’t let me move until he’s wrung out every last tremor, his groans filling the room like victory.
When he finally pulls back, slick and glistening, I gasp for air, my chest heaving. My lips are swollen, my face flushed, and I can feel my own release smeared against the inside of my shorts.
Micah leans over me, his palm cupping my jaw with possessive heat, his thumb swiping at the corner of my mouth where a single drop escaped. He brings it to my lips, making me lick it clean, and my whole body shudders.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, dark and satisfied. “Next time, you come prepared. Because next time…I’m taking that ass.”
I can only nod, needy and wanting, sprawled on the bed I’m not leaving tonight.
I’m flat on my back, still trying to catch my breath, the mattress damp with sweat, and my shorts with my own mess. My lips are tingling, throat raw, and my cock—God—my cock is throbbing all over again as if I didn’t just disgrace myself completely.
Micah’s still above me, propped on one arm, smirking like a devil who got exactly what he wanted. His golden skin glows under the cheap hotel light, his abs flexing as he drags his hand through his hair.
His gaze drops to my shorts.
“Seriously?” His voice is a low, amused rasp. “You’re hard again?”
Heat floods my face, humiliation curling hot in my stomach. I try to turn away, but he grips my jaw, forcing my eyes back to his.
“Aw, look at you,” he says, mock sympathy dripping from every word. “Can’t even look at me without that thing begging for attention. You already made a mess all over yourself, and now you’re aching again? That’s really pathetic.”
