Duke withdrew before he could. Then he pushed a cotton pad into Nat and swirled it around for a while, letting it soak up some slick. He pulled out the pad and sealed it into a sample bag; Nat tried not to whine. How was he supposed to come if Duke stopped fingering him?
“Last sample,” Duke said. “I’ll help you work it out.”
He pushed in three fingers this time, stretching Nat open. Nat wheezed and shuddered. He tried not to make any sound, except Duke found his sweet spot. He began to push down on it, working it over and over until Nat clutched at the table, his entire body trembling.
Don’t let him hear how much you like it,Nat tried to tell himself.This is an interview!
Thick fingers hooked against his prostate, and a moan wrenched out of him.
“You’re tight,” Duke growled. “You keep clenching around me, dripping so much. I’ve filled up an entire tube with your slick; it’s still trickling down your thighs.”
Nat stuffed his fingers into his mouth before he could beg for Duke’s cock.
“I c-can’t—” Nat gasped, his legs spreading, his ass pushing up desperately.
Duke held him down. And he ground his fingers so hard against Nat’s sweet spot that Nat came with a cry, cum jetting violently out of him.
Duke left his fingers inside for a while. With his other hand, he angled Nat’s cock down and wrapped his fist around it, stroking from base to tip as though he was trying to squeeze out every last drop. Nat’s face burned.
“I’ll have your samples sent to the lab for testing,” Duke said hoarsely. “You did good today.”
He slid his fingers out and worked the condom off Nat’s cock, leaving it flushed and debauched-looking.
Nat scrunched his eyes shut.Oh, gods. He touched me inside.
It had been the best sex of his life.
And it wasn’t even really sex.
“You may get dressed,” Duke said.
When Nat opened his eyes, he found an unopened pack of wipes in front of him. Duke was tying off the condom, its full tip swinging back and forth.
Nat blushed and hurriedly wiped himself down. He tried a few times to put his feet through his underwear; his fingers slipped on his shirt buttons. Then his fly couldn’t close, and he panicked a little before it finally cooperated. His hands were still trembling when he got to his socks; he gave up and shoved his feet into his shoes.
When he looked up, he found Duke setting the wooden tray back on the sideboard. The man turned to face him.
And Nat realized that Duke’s bulge had turned obscene: a long hard line with a dark smear at its tip.
It didn’t look like it would fit.
“Oh, gods!” Nat yanked his gaze up, only to meet Duke’s eyes. Duke had seen him ogling.
Duke cleared his throat and tugged his suit jacket over his bulge, but it didn’t cover much. “We’ll inform you of our decision soon,” he said intently. “Do you have any questions?”
“You can still think?” Nat blurted.
He cursed himself the next moment. Duke hadn’t even come, and Nat hadn’t offered to return the favor.
Duke smiled, though. “I guess I can.”
He stopped in front of Nat. This close, he was two heads taller than Nat, and maybe twice his width. And his scent—a hint of cologne on top of brimstone. Nat had to hold himself back before he buried his nose in Duke’s chest.
“Do you interview people like that all the time?”
Duke laughed. “I don’t interview very much at all, no.”
“Oh.” Nat ran out of words. “Uh, I guess I better go.”
