I snap out of my thoughts. “Eh?”
“Were you actually listening to me?” For some reason, he seems amused at the idea that I wasn’t.
I nod. “Of course. I always listen to unsolicited advice. So, we’re agreed on no condoms and no extra money?” I clap my hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Please stop talking about sex as if we’re running away with the circus.”
“Well, you’d definitely be the big top.”
He eyes me, and his customary control is back in full force. I know I won’t be running the show now. Should I be disappointed? Definitely not, because when he’s in control, good things happen.Verygood things.
He starts to remove his own clothes, and unlike me, he takes the time to lay them over the back of the sofa. With anyone else, I might joke about their neatness, but there’s something about Mac’s composure during sex that’s very erotic.
“Go and sit in that chair,” he commands.
I follow his gaze. There’s a big armchair upholstered in blue cotton that’s angled so the occupant can look out over the park. “You want me to sit in itnaked?” I say, slightly scandalised. “There’s a block of flats over there and anyone can see in.”
His eyebrow rises. “Are you disobeying me?”
My cock twitches at that stern tone of voice and Mac can immediately see how much I like it.
He waits for an answer with his arms folded over his chest. Being completely starkers doesn’t affect his confidence in the slightest.
“Okay.” I amble over to the chair and sit down on it, unsurprised when the luxurious fabric feels soft against my skin. I cross my legs, very aware of the window in front of me.
“Legs open,” he snaps.
“Really?”
His lip twitches. “No, I’m just saying it to hear the sound of my own voice.”
I stare out at the view, know that anyone in the nearby flats could be watching me right now. My cock begins to fill and rise. Interesting. Apparently, I have an exhibitionist kink. In fact, as I observe Cormac coolly gazing at me, with my wide-open legs, and then at the open window, I’m starting to worry I’ll come way too quickly.
I’m showing him everything, the mounds of my balls now drawn tight and my cock red-tipped and urgent looking.
“Good boy.” His own cock is stiff and throbbing against his flat belly, belying his cool voice, and he leans back against the sofa casually. “Touch yourself.”
I gulp, and the sound is loud in the hushed room. Then I slowly lower my hand and cup my balls. I roll them gently, biting my lip to keep my moan inside, and look up at him.
His jaw is set and his mouth is a firm, hard line, but his eyes are greedy. “That’s it. What does it feel like?”
“Good.” I catch my breath as I squeeze. “Reallygood.”
“Use your other hand and pinch your nipple.”
My hand moves before I can think, and my head falls back against the chair as I do as he ordered.
“Harder,” he says hoarsely.
“Fuck,” I breathe. It isn’t as good as his touch—what is? But the thought that he’s watching me makes it nearly as good. I twist the little nub harder than I would usually and my reward is a sting that seems to race through my body to my cock. My hips arch up involuntarily, and I hump the air.
“Leave it now and lick your finger,” he says hoarsely.
I comply, sucking on the digit while our gazes meet, clash, and hold.
“Good boy. Suck it harder. I want you to make it really wet.”
Fellating my finger eagerly, I make it so sloppy that saliva drips onto my chin. I go to wipe it away and stop when he shakes his head.
