Page 74 of Take My Breath Away
JAMES
In the bedroom I drag the curtains closed and switch on the lamp because I want to see Perry, I want to see every glorious inch of him as he unravels under my touch. He’s dragging his clothes off, throwing aside his shirt, his jeans, chucking them to the corner. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer briefs, ready to them pull down.
“No.”
He goes still at my command. Just inches from me, he’s close enough that I can see the questions in his eyes even though he does as I tell him.
I run my gaze over him, letting it come to rest at his cock. The hard ridge strains against the cotton of his underwear, outlining every inch, and I cup my palm over him, rubbing, kneading, stroking, running my thumb over his cockhead through the wet, arousal drenched cotton.
Perry pushes into my touch, like a cat seeking its master’s touch. He closes his eyes, and moans my name. My heart thuds deep in my chest as my own straining, aching, agonising cock demands attention of its own.
I squeeze down on Perry, his heat filling my palm as he thrusts into me, his hips pushing forward. He opens his eyes, so dark and glazed, and stares into mine. His breaths come fast and uneven, ragged and tattered.
“Want you to fuck me,” he rasps.
My mouth dries to sand as my heart swells, ready to burst.
“Want to feel you inside me, James. Want you to fill me up.”
“Whatever you want, baby, whatever you need.”
We’ve not done this. We’ve touched and teased, my mouth has tasted every inch of his body, I’ve made him come so hard I’ve reduced him to a quivering mess, but we’ve not done this.
He smiles, a slow lift of his lips, and even though he’s full of need and lust, there’s a sweetness to his smile that I can’t resist and I pull him in to claim that gorgeous mouth.
The kiss is wet, sloppy, and juicy, as my tongue finds every corner of his mouth, tasting caramel, chocolate, icing and the sweetness that is Perry himself. I could lose myself in this kiss for an eternity but the impatient, insistent thrust of his hips and the hard dig of his cock against my own is a desperate reminder of what he wants from me.
“On the bed, and take these off,” I whisper against his ear, snapping the elastic of his underwear and smiling as his body answers with a spasm.
I strip off, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. My cock, long and hard, bounces against my belly. Tunnelling my hand, I stroke myself, shuddering at the drag of my foreskin, back and forward, and back again over the engorged head, glistening with precum. A strangled moan comes from the bed, and I lift my eyes to Perry. I swallow hard and have to press down at the root, because if I don’t I’m going to spill.
Beautiful. He’s so fucking beautiful.
Perry’s bent his legs at the knees and, spread wide, they hide nothing. His entrance taunts and teases, his hips thrusting upwards as he jacks himself with one hand, the other massaging his balls, and all the time his eyes are on me, never wavering, challenging me to give him what he needs so badly. And I could, I could do exactly that, now, this moment. I could give him everything he wants and everything he doesn’t know he wants. I could have him begging, unravelling, coming harder than he ever has before as he yells my name. But he’s going to have to wait.
He follows me with his eyes as I go to the beside cabinet, and retrieve a condom and a small bottle of lube. We don’t need them yet.
I climb on the bed, spreading his legs wider, covering his hand still working his cock, with my own. He rolls his hips high, the head of his perfect, beautiful shaft, pushing through our joined and fisted hands, dark, swollen and wet. My mouth waters at the sight, the need to taste him overwhelming.
Easing his hand away from himself, his shaft bobs against his belly, a thin strand of precum stretching out from the slit, and I push my face into the warmth of the short dark hair between his legs. He lets out a long, low moan, animalistic and primitive. I breathe him in deep, drenching my senses in his scent. His fingers find me, pushing through my hair, scraping at my scalp, and I smile into his musky heat, as I remember the blue silk scarf abandoned down in the kitchen.
“Where, what…?” he says, as I slip off the bed and cross the room to the wardrobe. “James? Oh.” His eyes widen as I find and hold up a silk tie.
Perry’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. His hand finds his cock again, his strokes long and steady as all the time his eyes flit between me and the tie, as nerves, apprehension and excitement fight for dominance.
I trail the fine silk across his chest, over his belly, his muscles twitching and quivering as it brushes his skin. In the warm silence of the bedroom the only sound to be heard is Perry’s breath, shallow, rapid and ripped to shreds.
“Only if you want, baby. I’d never push you into anything you’re not happy with.”
I lift the tie up so it swings just above him; he follows it with his eyes, mesmerised by what it could mean. Licking his lips, he drags his gaze away to me, and smiles.
“Good boy,” I murmur, and his breath hitches. “But you’re going to have to let go of that gorgeous cock of yours.”
“You’re going to tie my wrists?”
“Hm-mm. Nothing heavy, and only if you’re sure?” I give him a steady stare, giving him another chance to know that every decision is his. I’m not into heavy play. Ropes, handcuffs, paddles, none of that’s my thing, but the feel of silk, loosely tied, is more a winding caress than it is a restraint. “More of a bow than a knot. You can release yourself at any time, I promise.”
He smiles, sweetness replacing hard edged lust.
