Page 59 of Five
Still, I don’t respond well to orders. “You have fingers, don’t you?” Lame, but again, frozen brain, melting body…can’t get much out of them.
His long-fingered, muscular hand—which is my kryptonite since I have a thing for strong, well-shaped hands—shoots up, closing around my neck. His broad palm and masculine digits wrap all the way from side to side. My fingers instinctually grasp his wrist, even though his grip is not tight. Not loose either. It’s fucking perfection. The clench of arousal hits me like a blow.
His other hand reaches my hair, and with one pull to the tie, my curly locks descend around my face like a waterfall. His fingerslace among the strands, and he grabs a handful, letting out a pucker-contracting growl.
“I fucking dig how feisty you are. It turns me the fuck on,” he snarls, as he nuzzles the side of my face with his nose, pulling on my hair to tilt my head to the side.
Christ, did I die and end up in all-my-book-boyfriends-come-true heaven?
“But I’ve been waiting enough already. Take. My. Cock. Out.” With every word, he tightens his grip around my hair, sending a feeling of pleasure-pain down my body.
But I have no idea what he’s talking about. Waiting? I’m too shocked by this side of him. I recall him being thisdirectwhen we were inside Crimson, but not while he was fucking me. He barely spoke.
The ensuing silence feels like a two-ton weight on me, it’s filled with a consuming desire I can’t contain.
As if it has a will of its own, my hand leaves the counter and moves to Gabe’s pants, deftly unzipping them and pushing down the black boxer briefs.
My memories weren’t lying. His cock is long and bloody glorious. I can do nothing but stare for a long moment. I wish I could do it forever, in fact, I’d even pay for the privilege.
His dick twitches under my observation, and a drop of pre-cum forms on the tip, making me bite my already swollen lip with the urge to kneel down and suck it off.
“Spit.” He lets go of my hair and moves his hand near my mouth, his fingers tightening slightly around my throat. He expects me to defy him. Not a fucking chance. But I can still choose the how.
Holding his gaze with challenge in my eyes, I open my mouth and let saliva drip down, directly on his cockhead, covering it beautifully. He groans, and lowering his fingers, he wraps them around his shaft, giving it a slow top-to-base pump.
“More.”
I oblige him.
He clenches his teeth and flattens his mouth. His lower lip is larger than the upper, and the urge to lick it is wild.
I can see his muscular arm flexing in the suit jacket as he slowly beats himself off. Slurps fill the room, long and loud. I wish they were coming from my mouth on his cock, but the thought of my saliva engulfing it has to be enough.
People would pay top dollar to watch him working himself like this, even more if he kneeled on the floor, muscular legs spread open to give him more room to work. This is live porn paradise.
His thumb rubs my skin, reaching my chin to tilt my head up. His pupils are so large that the slate-gray has almost vanished. They’re locked on me as if I am something to be devoured. My mouth turns slack, and I let out a low, incoherent sound. I’ve never been this horny before—without the help of a drug.
His cock twitches, spilling more delicious pre-cum, while his heavy balls continue bouncing with every jerk of his hand.
“Tell me what you dreamed about.” His low grunt snaps my eyes back to his face. “Is it my cock inside you?”
A searing fire shoots down my spine and lodges in my balls.
Memories of him fucking me, his cock pounding me into jelly, his heavy body pinning me down, forcing me to take more, showing me how in charge he was.
A shuddering moan rises up in my throat, and I’m unable to choke it back.
“Tell me.” His hand stops, and I whimper in protest.
I buck, trying to rub my aching cock on him, but his hand around my neck and his shoulders like unmovable rocks keep me still. My lower abdomen feels heavy and tight, and a swirling sensation is burning me from the inside.
I stare up at him when his grip on my throat tightens considerably. His expression has me pressing back against the sink. Those metallic eyes fixed on me like a hawk looks at prey.
A pathetic little whine comes out from my dry throat, but it doesn’t move him. He curls his lips and growls, “You don’t want to cross me.”
“Oh, but I do,” I breath out. Then a whiff of his smell enters my nose, so uniquely Gabe, so irritating, comforting, and arousing. I don’t want this to stop. All I can do is answer him.
My voice sounds soft even to my ears.What is he doing to me?“In my dreams I don’t care about anything but my empty hole. And everything comes to a halt when your thick and hot and smooth cockhead presses between the cheeks of my arse. You grasp them—your hands fitting perfectly over each—and pry them apart. Your thumbs stretch my wet entrance open as you thrust forward, sliding inside me all at once. So long, and deeper than anybody has ever been. I feel the perfect shape of you. The large tip and your long shaft.”
