Page 49 of Make Me Bleed
And it’sbetter.
Abel curls over the sink at his back as I force him against it until his head smacks against the mirror. He jolts, and I smirk against his mouth, molding my lips against his parted ones, loving the taste on his tongue and feeling drunk from him alone.
I reach up and run my fingers through the hair at the back of his head and grip it tightly, keeping his head pinned in place as I reach down with my other hand and wrap it around his hip, shoving my way beneath his see-through shirt—but not before flicking his nipple ring and making him hiss.
“Fuck.” He tries to drop his head back, but with my hold on him, he can’t move, which only makes him groan louder, and I feelhighon the control I have.
Nothing has felt this good in a long time.
I drag my mouth down his stubbled chin and over his throat, nipping at his Adam’s apple before following back up with my tongue.
“Jesus Christ, Peris,” he groans loudly, and I sink my teeth into the fleshy part of the side of his neck.
“Unless you wanna get caught, you might wanna be quiet, runt,” I say once I pull back, soothing the spot with my tongue once more. Abel mewls and gyrates against me, lids closed and lips parted with soft breaths. I reach down and grasp his cock through his jeans, noting how hard he is already.
A knock sounds just on the other side of the door, and I still my movement on his dick. Abel tenses from head to toe, his headjerking up from between his shoulders. I catch his wide eyes in the graffitied mirror as the door handle jiggles and voices sound on the other side.
“It’s locked.”
“Well, no shit, but it shouldn’t be…”
“I don’t know, man, but I’ve gotta piss.”
They’re muffled, but I can still hear them clear as day, and it makes me chuckle as I continue to stroke Abel’s cock through his jeans. He huffs and draws his brows together.
“It’s not funny!” he whisper-yells, and I arch a brow, stilling my hand for a moment. I feel his thigh muscles bunch for a moment in anticipation, and then, I’m shoving my hand inside and touching…
“Oh, fuck me, Abel,” I mutter pathetically as I wrap my hand around his lace-covered cock and squeeze. He mewls and bucks into the sensation, his long fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of the sink.
All the other voices and sounds fade away as I reach around and undo Abel’s belts, listening as they clink to the dirty floor below us. Before the sound has even finished echoing, Abel is reaching down and undoing his jeans, letting them fall and pool to the floor around his pink Converse-covered ankles, and I really try not to think about how those are the shoes I bought him.
I try not to, but he’s wearing them. And my necklace still, and fuck.
“I still own you, don’t I, baby?”
“W-what?” he chokes out, shocked eyes jerking up to find mine in the grimy mirror. Our gazes meet, and it’s like the first time all over again. I reach down without taking my eyes off his and push his lace thong to the side to expose his pussy.
“I said, I still own you, don’t I?” Because I know I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t because that’s how Abel Silver works.
Unfortunately, he owns me just the same.
I run my fingers over his soft, dry hole and watch it twitch against my touch. He mumbles something, and I chuckle.
“What was that?” I ask, increasing pressure, just to tease him. My blood is running hot, and I feel it burning my face.
“I said, fuck you,” he snaps, head jerking to the side so I can see the flush rising on his cheeks and the clenching of his crooked jaw.
I smirk. “I know you did.” And with that, I smack his ass. The clap is resounding, and it echoes in the small space. Abel gasps and jerks away from the hit. I watch his ass bloom a beautiful shade of red in the shape of my hand. Just as I reach back to do it again, he jerks back as if to grab me, and I snatch his wrist.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He freezes, gaze locked forward on the mirror. I try meeting his eyes, but he refuses to meet mine. “Nothing.”
‘Nothing?” I question. “Seemed like you were trying to stop me. You want me to stop, baby? ‘Cause I can stop if you want me to. But if I do, I stopeverything.” And I make it clear to him I mean it all. I remove my hands from his body, which makes him cry out.
“No!” He trembles, still arched over the sink.
“No?” I ask, arching a brow with a smirk.
