Page 50 of Fight or Flight
Shane might be able to mask with other people, but after years of observing him, I’ve learned to see past the version of himself that he shows the world.
The guy is a chameleon who can shift and mold himself to be whatever he wants, or whatever he thinks others want him to be.
It’s exactly what I do, but unlike me, he does it to protect himself.
I do it because that’s just who I am.
But he can’t hold up that act around me, and it’s beyond satisfying to know that I’m probably one of the only people on earth who gets to see his raw and uncensored side.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” I say again, slipping my hand under the waistband of his underwear.
He gasps when I grip his bare cock in my hand, and more of that adrenaline-fueled heat flows through me when I feel how hard and wet with precum he already is.
“That’s right.” I give him a few hard strokes that make his eyes roll back and a soft sigh fall from his lips. “You can’t.”
“Fuck you.” He tries to glare up at me, but it’s not all that convincing when he simultaneously lets out a low groan and bucks up into my fist to drag his shaft through the circle of my hand.
“That wasn’t a no.” Using my thumb, I spread the little beads of precum welling up from his tip around his thick cockhead.
He opens his mouth, and for a second, it looks like he’s going to tell me to stop or get off him, but whatever he wants to say dies on his lips when I dip my finger into his slit.
His cry of pleasure is loud and unrestrained and one of the hottest sounds I’ve ever heard, and my own cock throbs at the desperate look in his eyes.
He wants this, but more than that, he wantsme.
Instead of stroking him again, I hold him loosely in my hand and take in every detail of his expression.
He looks completely wrecked, but his eyes are clear and shining with not just lust, but also challenge. Another pulse of need rushes through me, and a low growl rumbles out of my chest as he slowly wets his bottom lip with his tongue.
“Looks like you’ve got me,” he rasps. “What are you going to do about it?”
“What do you want me to do about it?” I ask, a smirk lifting the corner of my mouth.
“You could start by not answering my questions with other questions,” he says, irritation bleeding into his voice.
“I could, but it’s so much more fun to hear you say it.” I stroke my hand up his hard length, adding a little twist when I reach his cockhead. “Tell me what you want.”
He glares up at me, his lips in a tight line, but he can’t hide how his hips twitch up, silently begging for more, when I stop.
“You could always show me if you’re not feeling talkative.” I give his head a hard squeeze.
His glare deepens as two spots of color appear on his cheekbones.
I huff out another throaty chuckle. “Or.” I lean closer so our lips are less than an inch apart. “I canmakeyou enjoy it.”
His eyes widen, but not with shock, as he pulls in a gasping breath.
He’s into the idea.
That makes two of us.
Letting go of his cock, I push myself up so there’s a little bit of space between our bodies and wrap my hand around his throat.
His eyes widen, then glaze over slightly when I apply just enough pressure to let him know who’s in charge without cutting off his air at all.
“Take your cock out,” I tell him, my voice coming out low and a bit growly.
He blinks up at me but doesn’t otherwise move.
