“Shit.”
“It’s fine. I’m mostly kidding. Mostly not.”
I don’t know what that means and should probably ask, but then his hand touches my dick and I lose all my brain cells.
They evaporate. I’m left with just mush between my ears.
“Enough about family, though. It depresses me. Let’s talk about something else.”
“You brought it up.”
“I didn’t mean to. Let’s just focus on your cock. It’s the one thing we can agree on.”
He strokes me, and I arch my hips up, his lips falling to my neck, wet and soft. “There. That’s better. That’s safe.”
He nips at my ear as he continues to toy with me, and I let him. I don’t even move. I just sit there and let him stroke me into full-fledged hardness. Not that it’s difficult. I seem to have a thing for his fingers around my dick. I’m horny for it.
“Nothing about this is safe,” I finally manage to bite out.
He chuckles, his tongue sliding into my ear. “It’s not. This is a dangerous game, but it’s one I like playing.”
His hand leaves my dick, and he trails his fingers across my thighs, up my chest to my shoulders, and into my hair. Hespends far too much time just mapping out the planes of my body. It’s weird, and oddly sensual.
I should be freaking out. Should stand up and tell him to fuck off, but I don’t. I just lean into him and let my head fall onto his shoulder, my eyelids fluttering shut.
I just experience it.
It’s been so long since someone touched me like this. Like he enjoys it. Like he could spend all day doing this and not grow tired.
“You sleeping?” he whispers, his lips sucking a mark onto my skin.
“No.”
“Relaxed then?” he asks, his finger swirling around my belly button and sliding through the trail of hair leading to my cock.
“Maybe.”
He huffs a laugh and then nibbles on my skin. It’s so sensual. Everything about him is. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t look away all those weeks ago at that party. Something about him just oozes it.
I bet some of that is venom, poisonous and toxic, and yet, I don’t move. I just let him continue.
“Why do you think I like your cock so much?”
I don’t answer, just let him run his finger across my leaking slit.
“You think we’re gay?” he adds, his lips moving against the skin of my neck.
“Dunno.”
“I don’t either. But after that night on the forest floor…”
“We don’t need to talk about it.”
“I think we do.”
“We fucking don’t.”
I try to move away from him, but he holds on to me tightly. And I give in. Just give the fuck in.
