Page 53 of Fight or Flight
His cry of pleasure echoes in the room, and I grind my teeth into his hard muscle as he writhes and trembles under me.
He’s not the only one getting close, and I stroke him faster as I snap my hips and slide my cock through his crease at a dizzying pace.
“Come for me,” I whisper in his ear, then press my mouth against the tender spot just below it, nibbling and biting his skin as I suck hard enough to leave a mark.
He cries out and goes completely stiff, his body trembling as he tenses. Then he erupts, shooting his load over my hand as he comes with a feral cry I’ll be hearing in my fantasies for years to come.
I stroke him through it, wringing every last drop of his orgasm out of him as he empties all over the mat and squeezes his ass around my shaft, pushing me closer to my own release with every tight hold.
When his cries shift into gasps of pain, I abruptly let go of him and sit back on my heels, my hard cock sticking out in front of me like a divining rod that just detected water.
Ignoring my own impending orgasm, I flip him so he’s once again on his back and settle between his thighs.
He’s staring up at me with wild, desperate eyes, his chest heaving with panting breaths, and I have to tear my eyes from his face so I don’t give in to my orgasm and come right then.
He looks completely wrecked, and the mix of satisfaction and awe on his face is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.
Jamming my hand between us, I grip both of our cocks and press my hard shaft against his softening one.
He gasps and arches into me as more color floods his already flushed cheeks.
“Hold them,” I demand, my voice nothing but a harsh growl as dark desire and more of that possessive need mix together inside me.
He blinks up at me, but not in defiance. He’s still so rocked from his orgasm that he’s not fully with me, and that’s way hotter than it has any business being.
Bracing myself with one hand, I let go of our dicks and wrap my free hand around his throat. “Hold them,” I repeat andsqueeze his neck just hard enough that his next breath comes out as a wheeze.
His eyes widen, and his mouth falls open in a silent gasp when I press down and cut off his air.
“Now.”
He grabs my wrist with one hand, his eyes full of panic as he stares up at me.
“Now,” I repeat, my voice low and deadly calm.
Still gripping my wrist so tightly I can feel the start of bruises forming under his hold, he slides his other hand between us and presses our cocks together.
I can’t stop my moan of pleasure at the feel of his shaft against mine, and I release most of the pressure on his throat as I drag my dick through his fist, using what’s left of his cum as lube.
He’s watching me as intently as I’m watching him, and without any prompting from me, he squeezes us hard enough I see stars, but it’s the cocky, satisfied smile tilting his lips that finally sends me over the edge.
My orgasm explodes out of me in a burst of dizzying pleasure, and I drop my gaze to his torso as I shoot my load between our bodies and cover his shirt with ribbons of my cum.
The world blinks in and out as I’m hit with waves of the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced as Shane furiously strokes my dick, prolonging my release until I’m nothing more than a panting, shaking mess over him when the pleasure finally ebbs away.
We stay like that for a few beats, just staring at each other as we both recover from our releases. A look I can’t read crosses Shane’s features, but it’s replaced with a cocky smirk as he lets go of our dicks.
It takes way more effort than I’ll ever admit to get off him, and I feel weirdly cold as I sit back on my heels and take in the sight of Shane all spread out and covered in my cum.
He looks good. Too good.
The smirk falls from his face under my scrutiny, and the wariness that settles over him is enough to break whatever spell we seem to have fallen under.
Silently, I climb off him and pull up my pants so my dick is once again covered and away.
Shane shakily sits up, and I don’t miss how he seems to look everywhere except at me as he fixes his clothes and stands.
I don’t like that he’s avoiding looking at me, and I have no clue why.
