Page 59 of Coiled Tight
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good boy.”
I pinched hard, but not as hard as I could, letting my fingers graze his cock as the aftermath of the treatment had him bucking forward. He wanted to scream, and I wanted to savor the sound, but I wanted to pace things, and I wanted to keep my word even more. So, before he could test the soundproof quality of the dungeon, I swallowed the sound in my mouth, tongue piercing through his mouth while he tried to groan and cry out and, eventually, give in to attempts of humping against my denim-covered leg.
The fabric couldn’t be gentle on his uncut cock, but there was no sign of discomfort or complaint on his face.
“Good boy,” I repeated the praise. “Do you understand now, Cam? I will give you everything. You just have to ask for it.”
The boy pulled back to get some air, and I let him, the sway of the swing amplifying the distance between us for a second that felt much longer.
He breathed heavily for two, three, four seconds. His nostrils were flared and his eyes watery when he glanced back at me.
“I don’t want a ruined orgasm, Daddy.”
“No?” I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, teasing the velvety skin. “And what do you want?”
“I…” Cam licked his lips again. I thought about showing restraint, but my own need won out, reaching forward to drag that bottom lip of his between my teeth, pulling until a hiss slipped out of him. “I want you to keep—I want to be milked dry.”
Fucking hell.
He was going to be the perfect boy I’d convinced myself didn’t exist for me, wasn’t he?
No. I shook my head. Jumping ahead was not going to do us any good. It wasn’t fair on him, either—or me.
“You want me to keep touching you when you’re so oversensitive it hurts, is that it?”
Cam nodded, his head resembling one of those bobble toys. “You two wanna see me cry? Give me dry orgasms until I can’t take it anymore.”
I didn’t know how it made me feel that he remembered Damian was here, that he brought him into the fold. I couldn’t tell if there was a name for the tightness that swirled in the pit of my stomach.
I ignored it.
Instead, I brought my lips to his again, pressing and keeping him close. There were no thoughts as I wrapped a hand around his cock, or as he thrust his hips up and started using it as a FleshJack. I supposed I could let him do that for now. It wouldn’t keep me from having me beg later, and I was more interested in consuming every piece of him, in obliterating every sense until only I existed, and only I was the one who was molding his body and his reality.
“Daddy, I’m close.”
I doubted I’d been touching him for less than a few minutes. My chest expanded with a caveman sort of pride. Hehadsaid he wouldn’t last, and I’d acknowledged the reasons why, but talking and seeing were different beasts. As he’d said, Cam wasn’t a good actor. He wasn’t saying the wordsor making the sounds because a porn video had said it was how subs were meant to behave.
“Good boy,” I encouraged. “That’s it.”
A bead of sweat trickled down my temple. Cam wasn’t sweating, but I didn’t doubt he’d be there soon. His skin flushed so fucking nicely, and I wasn’t doing more than jacking him off. Hell, I was barely setting the pace, but it seemed that just the awareness of me being there was enough to make him act the way he was?—
“Daddy.”
—desperate for the kind of release that went beyond the physical orgasm that took over his body and had him coating my hand and his stomach with strings of cum while he gasped my name.
My honorific.
“Tell me again what you want, Cam.”
I knew I had his consent, his more than enthusiastic agreement to make him tear up and leave every sense of propriety at the door. Making him say it was the kind of head game that had had Damian push for an edging scene in the first place. It was more about Cam than about me or anyone else, but it was about me too, about the twirls of pleasure I wasn’t supposed to feel when the sub beneath me grew aware of the debauchment and humiliation that came from being as explicit as I was demanding of him.
“Want you.”
Cam moaned out the word, head softly lolling to the side, resting back against the leather.
I bent over just enough that I could lick a stripe up his jaw, that I could keep him grounded here, with me.
