Page 29 of Duke

“Be honest with yourself about why you’d be helping me out.”

Why would I do this?

Because he makes me horny, that’s why. Because his cock is a thing of beauty, and I can’t get enough. I’d had him in my mouth, had him in my hands, even had him in pussy for a far too short amount of time. And I wanted more. I didn’t care if it was fair. I didn’t want to help him out with his erection because I really cared about him being uncomfortable, although it did look painful to be so hard. I also knew it would go away after awhile…he’d even said so himself. No, the reason I wanted to help him out was for me. It would be for me. Because I wanted it. Because I wantedhim—damn his stupid gorgeous self.

I groaned, and then hooked my finger in the waistband of his shorts and led him toward the bathroom. I shoved him in ahead of me.

“Sit,” I commanded.

He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Oooh, getting bossy. I like it.” He sat on the closed lid of the toilet. “Now what, mistress Temple?”

I glared at him. “Nowyoushut up.” I reached for him, unzipped his shorts, flipped open the button, and his cock sprang free. “No talking, no moving, no touching. Just sit there and watch.”

“Yes ma’am.” His grin was eager, arrogant, and willing.

5: BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS

Well good god and hot damn, this girl was insatiable

Like…holy motherfucking hell, she’s such a complicated, gorgeous, insatiable, difficult, wild little piece of ass.

But no, she’s not just a piece of ass—don’t be a dick, Duke: she’s way more. She’s class, but she’s also open about the fact that she likes sex, and that she has a lot of it. I like that. I get judged a lot for being a self-proclaimed manwhore, even some the guys on the team—except Thresh—sort of shoot me side-eye sometimes when they watch me bang a different chick every night of the week, and sometimes more than one in a night. Temple would get that. She wouldn’t judge me for it, just like I don’t judge her for it.

She’s fucking difficult, though. Like, I want to assume she’s just another rich spoiled celebrity chick with more looks and money than sense or personality. I also want to assume she’s down for just about anything, that we can just bang and be done, like we’re both used to. But it’s obvious both of those assumptions would be wrong. The blowjob she gave me earlier was, as I told her, the hottest I’d ever gotten, but it was because it was unpracticed, a little clumsy. She wasn’t sure of what she was doing, obviously didn’t do it a lot, as she admitted. But she took care of my cock with an eagerness and even an affection that I hadn’t expected and didn’t know how to handle. Sheenjoyedit. Not because I was so delusional to think she got some kind of weird sexual rush from it, but because she liked doing it, for reasons I couldn’t begin to fathom. It was…fucking hot. Everything she did was fucking hot as hell, and it drove me nuts. Like, I just don’t get her. Why she does what she does, why she says the things she says. I don’t get her resistance to this. All we’re doing is fucking. Neither of us expected anything more than casual sex, good old no-strings-attached fucking.

But then she did things I didn’t expect, looked at me in ways I couldn’t fathom, and it threw me for a loop, and I was left trying to figure out what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers.

She held her ground on not having sex if I wasn’t wearing a condom, which I totally respect. The fact that I’d been about to drill her without one was honestly freaking me the fuck out, because that’s a hard and fast rule of mine which I’ve never broken, not ever, no matter what, no matter who. And I didn’t even stop to think about it. I don’t know this chick. Like, at all. We just met. Yet I put my dick in her bare, and never even stopped to think about bagging my shit. Weirder yet was that neither did she, and I get the impression that’s as abnormal for her as it is for me. I honestly had to pull out and switch tactics because I was about to blow inside her from just a few thrusts, which is insanely fast for me. She just…does something to me. Bare, skin to skin…god, it felt incredible. Too good, way,waytoo good. So good I needed more, but was a little wary of doing that again, for fear of embarrassing myself in a way I hadn’t since the first time a girl put her hands down my pants. But Temple, the way she felt, the way she touched me…she drove me nuts. And I couldn’t figure it out.

Like right now, after denying us the sex we were building up to, instead of taking the out I was offering, no pressure, no big deal, figuring we’d fuck all the harder for it later, she shoved me into the bathroom, ordered me to sit down, and now seems to be working up the courage to do something. Or figuring out what she wants. I don’t know. I can’t read the girl. I just don’t know what she’s planning.

I liked that. It made me nervous, but I liked it.

She reached out, wrapped those slim, small, pale fingers around my cock and stroked me, top to bottom. At first, that was all she did, and I was fine with it. More than fine. If I could hold off coming indefinitely, I’d be content to sit here and just let her touch me like that, just watch her hand slide up and down, watch her thumb caress over the top. It was incredible, how good just her hand felt. I leaned back against the tank of the toilet, laced my hands behind my head, and watched.

And she just stroked me. One hand, then the other. And after a while, both, hand over hand, the way I liked it best.

“Goddamn, Temple,” I growled.

She’d told me to shut up and hold still, but sometimes that was just impossible. Like right then, there was no way I could keep still, no way I could shut up.

I was on the edge, riding the cusp of climax and holding it back as hard as I could. My eyes flew open so I could watch what she did when I came.

“Don’t warn me,” she said.

I did my best to hold still, and just watched as she switched back to one hand sliding up and down my cock, going fast now, and obviously recognizing how close I was to losing it. Kept the quick strokes going, staring at my cock with fascination.

Then she glanced up at me, as if gauging my reaction.

And then, seconds before I was about to come, she bent over me. Her hair draped across my belly obscured her face, so I reached out and brushed her hair aside, holding it out of the way so I could watch my cock slide between her lips, watch the way her eyes slid closed.

“Jesus,” I grunted.

She had her hand around me still, and resumed stroking, going faster than ever, and I was flexing my hips, grunting, cursing under my breath from the effort to hold back, to not fuck her mouth like I wanted to so damn badly. God, her mouth was wet and warm, and it felt like fucking ecstasy as she slid her mouth down my shaft and back up, fist sliding hard and fast.

No warning, she’d said, so I gritted my teeth and flexed hard, one hand in her hair, the other clenched behind my head.

She was sucking hard, fist grinding in a blur. Her tongue swirled around my cock, licking away the cum as it seeped out of me, and she kept going, sucking and jerking, until I was arched fully off the seat, groaning helpless curses, both fists buried in her long sun-blonde hair, gripping the shimmery, silky locks with all my strength and trying desperately to not crush her against me.