Page 45 of Dirty Martini
He lets out a soft chuckle and smiles brightly as he shakes his head. “That’s not the fucking you want me to do.”
“It won’t happen again,” I try to insist, but now I’m actively helping him grind against me, clenching my jaw so tightly my teeth are going to crack.
As he raises an eyebrow, I don’t think I’ll like where the mischievous glint in his eyes is leading. Nodding to himself, he clicks his tongue before sliding off me. I think that maybe he’s going to give both of us a break, do what’s right, but the little shit does the exact opposite.
He falls to his knees, hands reaching for the waistband of my boxers, eyes drunk with lust. “Say that again, but why don’t you mean it this time?”
I tried. Lord have mercy, I tried. My restraint is gone—snapped—in the wind as he pulls down my boxers and mycock slaps against my bare stomach. His hungry eyes track the precum that leaks from the tip, his mouth already slightly parted. He looks high as hell…onme.
I can’t take it anymore.
“You want this cock?” I tease, my hand wandering down my chest to wrap around my length.
He nods in a daze, opening up for me like he can’t help it, and I can’t either. We’re both victims of this consuming lust that’s dawned upon us. It’s spawned by hate, but spurred on by something much deeper that I can’t name.
And when his plump lips wrap around my head, I realize that I don’t fucking care to name it at all.
“Yes,” I hiss, sliding my fingers into his hair as he goes down until my balls hit his chin. “Look at that.”
Pulling off with a wet slap, his hands reach up to palm my thighs. “Call me your baby, Rhys.”
I shake my head. “Let me fuck your face.”
“That’s not how this is going to work,” he taunts, pressing teasing kisses up and down my dick. “Call me your baby again.”
“Why?” I growl, tightening my grip on his hair to the point where he gasps.
He doesn’t bow away from my aggression; instead, it spurs him on. His eyes are dark with longing, a sinful promise and sheer determination. “Because you hate it. You don’t want me to be your baby, but you can’t help it. Lose control for me. Just like you want to.”
Oh,fuck him. He knows just what to say to get me riled up. Just how to play me like some twisted fiddle. With his lips so close to my length, his hot breath fanning my foreskin, I can’t do anything but nod and cave. “Come on, baby. Put me out of my misery.”
His smile is wicked as he grips me with both hands and kisses my tip. “Since you asked so nicely.”
When he opens his mouth for me, I don’t hesitate fucking up into him. I hate to think of how much practice he’s had, of how many times Knox has been in this exact position. The thought causes my hips to lurch up, choking Everest, but the pleasured moan he lets out lets me know he likes it. I don’t give a fuck who came before me. What matters is now andnowhe’s mine.
Like I told him. Mine to torture. Mine to hate. Mine to fuck.
“Keep that sweet mouth open,” I command, framing his face with my hands. “Try not to bite my dick off.”
He flips me off, but does as he’s told, opening wide for me as I start steady thrusts into his mouth. He’s so receptive to the pace and brutality, only growing harder, a wet patch forming in the front of his sweats when I hit the back of his throat. He’s tight and wet and the sweet suction of his mouth has me seeing stars.
“Fuck, just like that,” I groan, brushing my thumb against his stretched lips. “You’re so pretty like this, baby.”
All red-rimmed eyes and running nose. All choked up and losing color for me. I can’t believe I thought that once was enough. Once will never be enough where he’s concerned because I’m hooked. I may not like him, but I like what he does to me and what he makes me feel, and that has to count for something.
But then I see the sweetness in his eyes, that beautiful gleam that calls to all the affectionate sides of me I’ve kept hidden. I bat it away with a brutal thrust, knowing that I have to make him as dirty as he is to stop myself from losing everything to him.
“I’m gonna come,” I warn him, and my hips lose their pace as his tearful eyes meet mine. “Touch yourself for me. I want you to come with my cock in your mouth.”
He nods as well as he can, fishing his cock from his boxers, tugging with harsh strokes that must burn. I think he likes it because his eyes roll to the back of his head as drool pools at the corners of his lips. The sight of him like this, so wanton andfree, makes me explode. I shoot rope after rope of cum down his throat, which he swallows up greedily. It gives me a sick satisfaction when my taste is what sets him off, as he comes a moment later on a muffled whine.
I pull out of his throat, stopping myself from doing something stupid like petting the top of his head. He rests his forehead against my thigh, breathing heavily as he tries to gather his bearings. I think we both are. We’re both coming to terms with what this means and what we’ve become.
But I need to make things clear. I tip his chin up carefully, smiling at his wrecked face and swollen lips. “This meansnothing.”
It takes him a moment, but he nods, wiping away some cum from the corner of his lips. “Nothing.”
And for a moment, we’re caught in a state of infinite silence. A peaceful resolution to the war we created.
