Page 31 of Uncharted Desires
If he wanted to choke me right now, I’d let him.
He doesn’t.
His fingers massage the underside of my jaw as his hips roll against mine.
His movements are rough and choppy. There’s no layer of lubrication between our cocks, the friction hard and unforgiving. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Yet here I am, allowing my hips to buck up, my cock pressing harder against his, sending jolts of electricity through my entire body.
Sawyer slides his hand up, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling my head to the side. And then, his mouth is on my neck, sucking and nibbling, biting the lobe of my ear with just enough might to set my body on fire.
I simultaneously melt into the mattress and arch my body up, seeking every point of contact I can find, bringing me even closer to the man on top of me.
He’s heavy—heavier than anything I’ve ever felt on top of me but it’s not enough. It’s something I’ve grown to learn a while ago—no matter what he does or how much he gives me, it’s never really enough.
Coldness hits my chest, taking me by surprise, and I realize Sawyer’s body is no longer on me, his heat gone, leaving my cock neglected and yearning for more. He kneels in front of me and runs his palms along my sides.
“Why?” I ask, my voice whiny.
He tilts his head, his gaze scorching and scrutinizing, and he takes his time, torturing me before saying, “I thought you said you wanted more.”
“I did. I do. I…”
Words fail me, and all I can do is lay there, restless and longing, as the mattress under my legs bounces and Sawyer gets to his feet in front of the bed, standing before me in all his naked glory.
His muscles glisten with sweat, bulging beneath his tanned skin. He’s too much to look at. I close my eyes and let him run the show.
The sound of footsteps breaks out, loud at first and then quieter.
Door creaks. Something opens. A drawer?
Door creaks again.
Footsteps grow louder.
And when the mattress dips once more, I let out a tiny sigh of relief.
“You may want to be present for this.”
I brace to open my eyes, preparing for the inevitable tingling in my groin the second he comes into view. But before my brain can process the image, I yelp when Sawyer grabs the undersides of my knees and pulls them up before spreading my legs.
“What are you—Oh…” My words get lost in my throat because Sawyer is kneeling between my legs now, one hand caressing my knee, a tiny packet of lube in the other.
My heart jumps in my chest and I squirm as I watch Sawyer tear the wrapper open with his teeth, his actions urgent.
I hide my face in my hands as if not being able to see would somehow makemeinvisible before the echo of his words rings in my head.
You may want to be present for this.
I swallow and put my hands above my head and open my eyes. Cold, slippery liquid spills over my cock, making it twitch.
Sawyer squashes the pocket, squeezing its content on my body, an excessive amount of lube spilling over my balls and down my crack.
I don’t have time to marvel at how strange, how unfamiliar the sensation is. Before I can adjust to the idea, before I have the chance to get self-conscious, before I can even blink, Sawyer drops his hand to my ass, and for the second time tonight, the tip of his finger pushes between my ass cheeks and against my entrance.
“Fuck,” I mutter, the muscles around my hole tensing.
Sawyer lets out a rumbling laugh and my attention snaps to his face, overshadowing the overwhelming sensation. “Maybe someday. You sure you want this?”
I’d laugh if I weren’t so fucking turned on. How can he even ask that? How can he not see it on my face? “Yeah. I think I—Fuck.”
