Page 20 of A Mistake of Worth
Henri never had lovers at all.
All thought ceased as Michael swallowed him down in one smooth motion.
Henri’s hands flew to Michael’s hair. Fingers tangled in the damp strands. Pleasure surged through him. A desperate sound escaped him. Part gasp, part moan.
His back arched. Hips thrust briefly. But Michael held him down as he swallowed around him.
Henri moaned. Overwhelmed by the sensation. Henri had performed this act countless times, his throat pounded raw by men who took without care. But being on the receiving end? The wet heat. The steady suction. It was unlike anything he’d known.
A slicked finger pressed inside him. Henri moaned at the dual sensation. Then Michael crooked his finger. Finding that spot inside him. Intense pleasure shot through Henri’s body.
Michael took him deeper. Henri hit the back of his throat, then pushed further. The tight pressure dragged up memories. Henri on his knees, gagging, throat burning as men thrust brutally, chasing their own release. Marc’s voice in his head:Swallow or you’ll regret it.
Shame twisted with pleasure. He wanted to pull back, to escape the echo of that pain. His hips jerked away instinctively.
But Michael’s hands clamped down harder on his thighs. Pinning him. Forcing him to stay buried in that enveloping heat. No escape. Only surrender.
“Stop,” he gasped. Hands tightened in Michael’s hair. “I’m close. I can’t.”
Michael pulled off just long enough to growl, “Give it to me.” Then he swallowed him down again. Deeper this time. Throat working around Henri’s length in deliberate swallows.
A second finger joined the first. Henri cursed.
“Michael, I’m—” The warning came too late.
Henri arched off the bed. Hips still pinned as his orgasm crashed through him.
Henri lay trembling. Aftershocks ran through him. Michael crawled back up his body. He pressed gentle kisses along Henri’s skin.
“Beautiful,” Michael murmured against his throat. “You’re so responsive, baby. So perfect for me.”
The praise eased the tight knot of anxiety in Henri’s chest. He felt boneless, floating, as Michael continued to trail soft kisses across his skin.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Henri.” Michael’s lips brushed his ear, the promise rough and low. “And you’re going to look into my eyes while I do it. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Henri sighed, voice trembling. His body jolted when two fingers pushed back inside, scissoring him open.
He clung to Michael’s gaze, heart pounding. When a third finger slid in, stretching him wider, Henri moaned outright. His cock stirred against his stomach, helpless to the pace Michael set.
“Look at you,” Michael praised, his voice thick with heat. “So needy. So fucking beautiful like this.”
Henri flushed, but he didn’t look away. Couldn’t.
Those fingers moved with unhurried purpose—so different from the perfunctory prep he’d endured before. Or worse, the times there had been none at all. Michael wasn’t rushing. He was savoring.
“Please,” Henri whispered, startling himself. He never begged. Marc had trained that out of him years ago. But with Michael, the word slipped out, raw and urgent.
Michael curled his fingers against his prostate, dragging a helpless cry from his throat.
“Please,” Henri gasped again, the word breaking. “Michael, please. I want you inside me. I want you now.”
Michael froze for a heartbeat, groaning low in his chest. “That’s it,” he murmured. He pulled his fingers free, slick and glistening.
Henri whimpered at the emptiness, his body clenching around nothing. He watched with dazed intensity as Michael grabbed the lube.
Michael poured a thick line into his palm, then wrapped his fist around his cock, stroking slowly, obscenely. The lube made every drag gleam. His eyes never left Henri’s face.
Henri’s lips parted, breath catching. His cock twitched at the sight of Michael’s thick shaft sliding through his own hand, broad head glistening under the light. He would feel that stretch for days, maybe longer—and the thought thrilled him instead of scaring him.
