Page 46 of Six
I lift the timer I’m holding to show him how much I have. “Twenty-five minutes.” My ass tightens when I think about what we could do in those twenty-five minutes.
“And then?”
“I’ll turn into thegirlin rags, poor and lowly.” I look down at myself. “Nope, still in rags, the magic didn’t work this time,” I joke.
His eyes slide down my barely clothed body. His frown deepens. “We can go buy clothes tomorrow.”
Fuck. He sounds serious. “That’s not what…it was a joke.”
“Didn’t sound like one. Don’t like when you denigrate yourself.”
That’s damn sweet, and I love it, scarily so. I want more of it. So needy.
But it’s not what I had in mind when I started this. The words tumble chaotically in my mind. I struggle to arrange them in a sequence, even an incorrect one. Why am I assaulted by these moments of awkwardness around Rague?
“I have fifteen more minutes, why don’t you join me?” His voice penetrates my useless brain, and I’m only able to nod. I place the timer on the floor and fall to my knees on a yoga mat. I feel energized all of a sudden.
Keeping my back straight, I move through my typical stretches, using some yoga poses Lori taught me. I start with a hero pose, to stretch my chest, legs, and arms. Then I move into a plank, holding still for a while. I start dipping my hips on one side, then the other—the shirt is sliding up little by little, displaying more thigh. After a minute, I fluidly change to a downward-facing dog. My ass is up in the air, hands on the mat, arms stretched forward. I push my head between my biceps and resist the urge to glance at Rague.
I’m trying to force my mind to behave, but I know he’s behind me and is getting an eyeful of my briefs-clad butt. A few seconds later, I shift into a low lunge, followed by a big lunge. Then down into the downward dog again, just to fuck with him. But it backfires. My hard dick throbs, the thought that Rague is looking at me arouses me to no end. Lori never told me how difficult it is to practice yoga with a hard-on.
I go down in the baby cobra pose, lying on my belly, my dick pressing insistently against the soft mat beneath me, the friction is killing me. The air in the room’s turned heavy and charged with sexual tension. The skin on my neck prickles, and without even looking at him, I’m very aware of the way Rague is staring at me.
I feel like a small rabbit who’s waiting to be eaten, and hell, I want him to do it so badly. I’ll even provide the seasoning. But he remains painfully quiet—except for his loud breathing—and achingly distant. I can hear my heart punching against my ribs, knowing every move I make has him lusting after me—or so I hope. I try to keep my focus on what I’m doing, but I’m a mess ofneed,for his cock, his bruising hands, and aggressive lips.
I don’t need kisses when I fuck. Lately, I’ve avoided them during hookups. But the way he kisses, so eager and untamed is addictive. I fucking crave it.
The sudden feather touch on the bare flesh on my upper thigh makes me suck in a deep breath. His fingers are lightly brushing, slowly moving up toward my briefs, taking the fabric of the shirt with them. Then they close around one butt cheek and squeeze hard. Rague’s deep rumble makes me moan in response.
“Shirt off. On the bench press,” he growls, and then I feel him shifting behind me.
I yank the shirt over my head and stumble my way to the bench, swallowing the lump of excitement in my throat. I lay down on the leather bench—which is higher than usual—not sparing a look at the bar holding the weights. My dick is tenting my briefs, I want to tug them down and stroke myself so badly. I hear him approaching and close my eyes briefly before opening them again.
He moves until he’s above my head, legs spread on either side of the bench, hard cock looming close just like the other day at the gym. This time, though, he’s fucking naked. From my low position he looks like a damn warrior ready to plunder and ravage…me. His giant, thick dick curls up toward his belly with the heavy balls hanging loose and less than an inch from my face. I tilt my head back and give one a long lick before taking it inside my mouth to suck it with gusto. He tastes so damn good, soapy and salty. The musky smell of his cock turns stronger the more Rague stares at my body; precum beads at the slit.
“Lick my cock,” he orders me, his voice doesn’t allow a refusal. I pass my tongue over his length, up and down, while he holds his erection near my face.
“Close your mouth,” he commands and slaps his dick on my lips a couple of times, then spreads precum on them.
“Suck on my balls.” He fists his length and slowly starts jerking off.
It appears Rague is used to giving orders when he fucks. I’m glad to oblige, but I’m not going to remain silent.
“The left one? The right one? Both of them? When you order me around you need to be more specific or…”
His hand abruptly grabs my chin and pushes it further back, forcing me to open my mouth just before he feeds me his dick. He goes straight for my throat, making me gag without stopping, pumping and grunting. He chokes me on it, pushing all the way down, his hand holding me still. He growls and then pulls out, letting me get only a couple of breaths in before stuffing my mouth again.
“Stretch those lips around me. Good boy.”
The praise makes my skin tingle all over. My dick aches like a motherfucker. I inhale deeply through my nose and relax my throat further when he starts ramming his beauty in and out ruthlessly. His thumb brushes over my neck. “My fuck toy.”
I moan, and an impressive amount of precum leaks from his cock on my tongue. I’m so hungry for more.
He suddenly pulls out, and I whine when he takes a step back and walks around the bench.
“I filled your belly already today. Need to mark your hole now,” he sexily explains, stopping at my feet. He tears my briefs off snarling at them—and okay I get it, no more underwear when I’m around him.
Grabbing under my knees he pulls me to the end of the bench and keeps my thighs spread wide. The bench is the perfect height for him to fuck me. He pushes my knees close to my chest to look at my asshole.
