Hooded eyes landed on me. “Yeah, my love?”
My love.
Again.
If I was wrong, I was about to find out. But I couldn’t be reading this wrong. All the touches. The hand holding. The glances that stuck to my skin like honey and went deeper than friendship.
“I want you,” I confessed on a sigh.
“I know you do.” Soul let go of my hand and arranged the sheet so my torso and groin were exposed.
He bit his lip again, then his hands were on my lower stomach, kneading and caressing. Then without missing a beat, he tugged on the band of my briefs and pulled them low on my hips.
My dick bobbed as the kiss of cool air on my skin contrasted with the warm precum smeared across my abdomen.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he recited like he had so many times before. Then he had my heavy balls in his grasp.
Again, my hips moved without my consent, jerking into his touch. I hissed, “It’s not too much.”
He gripped my shaft and started working his hand up and down.
I wasn’t trying to be quiet anymore and when my writhing grew wild, Soul held me down with too much ease that just made me want to fuck into his hand even more. “Be still, Chris. I got you.”
“I can’t be still,” I bit back, voice hoarse and teeth clenched as my abs contracted. It was damn near painful how much pent-up lust I had for him.
“All this fucking dick,” he praised, a little awe edging out his authoritative tone.
I tried to fist my dick, chasing the relief of a few well-timed strokes, but Soul wasn’t having it.
“Move your hand, Chris.”
I didn’t. Not yet.
“You been running from me all summer, and now you want to rush me?”
“B-baby.” The endearment slipped, but it felt good on my tongue. Better than his name. He wasmy babyand right now he was driving me crazy.
“I got you, now move your hands, and let me prove it.”
I moaned in protest but dropped my hand. Like some subconscious part of me wanted to obey every command he gave me.
A needy surge of my hips had my ass off the table and my dick chasing his hand.
“Stop moving, my love.” He kept his voice gentle, his words uncompromising. “Just lay there and take it.”
Fuckkkkk.
When I obeyed him again, he shot me a look overflowing with lust and tenderness and relief.
“I know you can take it, right?” He closed his oiled fingers around my tip and stroked slow and hard, pulling sounds out of me I’d never heard before.
“I-I can take it,” I stammered, the muscles in my neck pulling tighter with every caress of his hand.
One hand was tight around the head of my dick while the other massaged my shaft.
He had both hands on me—aroundme—and it still didn’t feel like enough.
“I’m a patient man, Chris.” He twisted his hands around my length, and I arched off the table, shameless and needy. “But you don’t know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you.”
