Page 21 of His Trick

His shadows’ weight shifted, brushing along my arm, a feather-light graze that made my fingers clench tighter, and my hips jerk in spite of myself. I swallowed again, sharp, controlled, breathing fast but steady.

I am in control. I am in control. I am in control.

“I commend you, honestly. You hide it well,” he breathed in my ear, his fucking tongue gliding further up my neck now. “But I can see it. I can feel the heat simmering inside you. You’re not as perfect as you pretend, are you, Sunshine?”

My skin burned where his tongue explored. My mind raced, my anger boiling to the point of pain. And worst of all, my cock throbbed against these constricting pants. Each fucking touch sent bolts of pleasure that had me dripping pre-come.

My body reacted without permission, my muscles twitching, the sensations confusing me, their rough and sloppy naturefeeling alien. I wanted to wrench away, to escape, to fucking rip his head from his shoulders.

But my mind stayed alert, calculating. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.

Another flick of his tongue, and his fingers grazed my waistband, light and teasing. My hips jerked again, my breath hitching in a strangled groan of anger.

I tried pressing myself as hard as physically possible against the wall, but his hands were still on me, still able to grip me while his body held me immobile.

I struggled to maintain control, to suppress the terrifying waves of arousal flowing through me. I growled, trying desperately to keep my sharp edges intact.

“Mmm, yes. Fight it,” he murmured, deliberately right into my ear, as his hand gripped my cock through the leather. “I like the way you shiver against me. The way you resist me. It suits you. And fuck me, it’s thrilling.”

I exhaled through my teeth, gripping the wall until my knuckles ached, letting the tension build inside me. My cock throbbed painfully now. My body was begging for release, but I wasn’t fucking letting go.

Finally, almost as a shield, an anchor to stop the pull, I opened my mouth. Horrified that I sounded so…breathless.

“Stop. Get the fuck off me, Carrington. You don’t fucking know me.”

Carrington laughed, the vibration making me fucking groan from the friction. His own enjoyment of the action made his breathing falter.

His words were less controlled, becoming more strained as he panted. “I know you better than you think, Sunshine. You are a copy of me. A replica I intend to understand before I destroy. What I didn’t expect was for you to show me things about myself that feel like a…release.”

His words lingered in my mind. The ending got caught in his throat as he pressed into me harder, making both of us struggle to catch our breath.

Fuck.

The wall at my chest was hard and unyielding, but it was nothing compared to the grip on my dick. My arms were pinned, trapped, useless against my chest. Every muscle in me screamed to fight him, to rip his cock into tatters, to get the fuck out of this place—but his touch was already too much.

His fingers kept tracing over my hard length, slow and fucking deliberate, teasing me with damning precision. My hips thrusted forward despite my teeth clenching, and my stomach coiled into a knot. I groaned low, chest heaving, my knees trembling as I tried to stay standing.

“Such a good boy,” he panted, grinding into my back with the same speed his hand used on my dick. “So interesting…so perfect. Why are you so hard for me? You can’t fight me, you know that. But I don’t think you want to…anymore.”

I bounced against him, trying to shake his hold on me, freeing my hands to grip his wrist. I was shaking, trying to assure myself with logic, with the thought of Xanthy. But despite my hold on his wrists, his gloved fingers didn’t stop. One hand pressed hard against my tip, stroking, while dragging my dick against the fabric.

No. Please. God. No.

My body arched as I gasped, teeth biting down on my lip so hard I tasted a burst of metal, and a strangled sound escaped through my lips. I was so close to the edge. My hips had a mind of their own. Their only need was to seek heat and friction. They bucked forward, pressing harder without my permission.

I can’t come for a fucking man. For my girlfriend‘s brother…

But I am.

“Stop!” I barked, my voice hoarse. “I…I’m Xanthy’s boyfriend,” I snapped, my voice rough, but my body betrayed me again, cock throbbing, muscles coiling over and over with each roll of his hips.

The hand on me didn’t pause but for a single second. If anything, it pressed harder into my dick, more intentional, rougher. It slid lower to my balls, stroking through the pants’ material until my hips bucked involuntarily.

The low groans leaving my throat were wrong.

This was wrong.

I didn’t want this.