Page 30 of Forever Finn

“What are we doing in here?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer as he turns and pulls me in closer, my arms automatically wrapping around him and pressing our bodies together. A smile plays at the corner of his lips as he leans in, and I’m helpless to do anything but return his kiss as his lips slide against mine.

I can’t get enough of this man, he’s like a drug in my system, one I’d happily overdose on. His hands slide from my shoulders to tangle in my hair gripping firmly as he devours my mouth. The taste of him is everything as I moan against his lips.

My cock is throbbing painfully, tenting the pants of my scrubs. I’m barely even aware I’m walking him backwards until the backs of his thighs hit the dressing table. Releasing his mouth, I drag my thumb across his wet swollen lips and feel a tightening in my belly.

My need for him is palpable, a desperate, gnawing hunger that can’t be sated no matter how many times I’m buried deep inside his body.

Turning him in my arms so that he’s staring into the lit mirror he leans back into me, watching with slumberous eyes as I coil my arms around him. One hand is splayed across his firm chest, holding him against me, while the other drags open the buttons of his jeans and slides inside his boxers, fisting his already hard cock.

“Wyatt,” he gasps as his eyes roll back in his head.

“No,” I whisper harshly in his ear, my tone lending to the silent atmosphere in the long-abandoned room. My hand slides from his chest upward, my fingers wrapping around his throat as I stare at the seductive picture we make together. “Watch,” I whisper. “Don’t close your eyes… watch what I do to you.”

He’s panting, his pupils dilated in the dim light, his gaze firmly fixed on my fist as it moves rhythmically under his shirt. He reaches down with one hand and pulls his shirt out of the way so he can watch the slick head of his cock, already wet with precum, thrusting through my tightly closed palm.

“Fuck, Wyatt,” he gasps, moaning loudly as my fingers tighten around his throat.

My gaze lands on a long thin silk scarf dangling from the edge of the mirror and I release Finn, grasping the hem of his shirt and lifting it up and over his head. He’s watching me patiently, our eyes locked together in the mirror’s reflection as I trace my fingers down his sculpted pecs, raking my short nails over his sensitive nipples, causing another gasp to escape those perfect and swollen lips of his.

I reach for the scarf, running the silken material through my fingers to release any trapped dust while still watching him. The trust in his eyes nearly floors me. I’m pretty sure he’d let me do anything to him and the thought is heady.

I loop the scarf around his neck, crossing it over the beautiful planes of his chest and winding each side around his arms until they look like vines, drawing the two ends together behind his back I bind his wrists and tie the scarf off, leaving him unable to move his arms an inch.

“Is this okay?” I whisper against his ear.

“Yes,” he pants, the desire in his eyes as clear as a glassy lake.

“I’m going to bury myself inside you so deeply, you will feel me for days.” My breath ripples over his ear and he shudders.

“Please,” he says so softly I almost miss it.

I release him long enough to yank my shirt over my head and toss it to the ground. Grabbing a packet of lube from my pocket I shove his jeans and his boxers down to his knees, leaving him exposed for my pleasure.

“So beautiful.” I stare at his reflection as I trace my fingertip down the throbbing veins of his cock. Watching in satisfaction as he strains toward my hand.

Tearing open the packet, I slick my fingers, tracing the curve of his gorgeous arse until my fingers dance over his hole, making him shudder and close his eyes against the overwhelming sensation as I tease the nerves of his opening.

Gripping his cock in my other fist, I slide two of my fingers inside him. The dual sensation has his head falling forward on a long-serrated groan. Rubbing my fingers teasingly over his prostate I feel my cock starting to leak. I’m so fucking desperate to be inside him, but not before he’s ready.

Soon he starts rocking back onto my hand, simultaneously riding my fingers, and rutting into my fist, moaning loudly. Adding another finger to increase the stretch he hisses slightly, but he doesn’t stop me or tell me to slow down, on the contrary, I know he likes the slight bite of pain.

“Wyatt, please,” he begs, and I can’t take it anymore. I shove my scrubs down past my hips, lubing up my aching cock before pushing it into his tight hole in one slick glide.

I hold for a moment, my cock thrust deep into his body, my balls pressed against his. I wrap one arm around his waist holding him firmly against me, his bound arms pressed against my chest and belly as his head falls back against my shoulder exposing the beautiful line of his throat to me, already pink with my fingerprints.

I trace along the markings slowly before pulling my dick out almost to the tip and thrusting back inside him, forcing a loud cry from his lips. I press my hand over his mouth, not so much to silence him as there’s no one here but us, but for control. I want control of the sounds that come out of that sinful mouth of his.

I watch as his cock jerks, a thin bead of precum drooling down from his slit to pool on the dusty dressing table.

“You like that, don’t you,” I murmur against his ear, and I know he does. I know he gets off on the slippery edge of danger, the fantasy of being forced, of not surrendering control but having it taken from him.

“Imagine,” I whisper throatily. “If that theatre out there was full of people waiting for you to go out and perform for them. You’re the star and they’re all waiting for you, but you’re in here with me, at my mercy. They can’t hear you cry out or cry for help while I have my huge cock buried inside you.”

I watch his reflection and see his cock twitch again.

“You can’t move, can you? Can’t make a sound? I can do whatever I want to you, and no one can stop me. Does that turn you on?”