Page 78 of Play With Me
“Not my fault you had to go and leave me for two days.”
“Trust me,” he murmurs and then scoots down further until he’s right there, his fingers spreading me open. “I’d rather have been right here. Looking at this tight, unused hole.”
“I’m not that tight.”
“It’s not an insult, but I’m thinking you want me to loosen you up?”
“That’s not what I meant.” My hand goes into his hair and tightens on those thick strands.
“Getting impatient? Can’t wait to be all wet and sloppy?”
“I could wait all day,” I lie, shoving his head farther down, right near my hole. And finally, he puts me out of my misery, the wet slide of his tongue against me making my back arch up.
He groans against me, and I can’t help but shiver at the sensation of the wetness sliding over my unused hole.
“So good,” he says, and I shift closer, wanting him pressed inside of me. His entire tongue, his cock. Fucking hell. I want him inside of me.
Fuck slow. This was never meant to move that way.
We are fast and loose.
We’re a catastrophic train wreck.
“Fuck me. Please.”
“Not until lube. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You won’t. You fucking won’t.”
But my whines do nothing to convince him. Instead, he seems perfectly happy between my thighs, torturing me, pushing inside my ass slowly, teasing me until I’m nearly sobbing with frustration.
It’s then that the doorbell finally rings. Colton jolts up, his cock hard and pressed out from his pants, but he doesn’t touch it. He just disappears without a word.
I’m left to stare at the ceiling, my dick throbbing, my ass aching for more.
When he returns, there’s a bag in his hand.
My unfocused gaze lands on it and then moves up to him. He’s standing there, wet, swollen lips, his chest heaving, his hair a mess.
That poor delivery driver. Or, even worse, was thathisdriver? The man who picks me up occasionally? The man whose name I don’t even know.
Shit, if it’s him, I can never show my face again. Because what we’re doing is as clear as day.
“Got you several different kinds of lube to try. But I think we will go with this one.” Colton holds up a small bottle and shakes it. “It’s long-lasting. And I think…” He bites his bottom lip and stares down at me. “I think this isn’t going to be quick.”
“Fuck off. Yeah, it is.”
“No, Myles. I’m gonna make love to you tonight.”
Those words make my chest contract, and a wheeze escapes me.
I can’t breathe, can’t speak, but my inability to communicate does nothing to stop him. He just wets his two fingers with the lube and presses them inside of me, opening me slow and soft. So slow, in fact, that I’m left writhing for more.
“Come on, Cavanaugh. Give it to me. I can take it.”
“Not yet, Witkoff,” he says with a soft grin. “I’ve been waiting all weekend for this. I wanna make it last.”
And he does. He fingers me for ages, massaging my prostate and making my mouth open and close in frantic gasps. When he finally does wet his dick and press it against my hole, I’m hot with need.
