Page 93 of Praising Haru

I make my way down the bed again and lie between his legs. I tuck one hand under his arse, stroking his soft skin as I devour his hole with my tongue. He gasps and writhes, the chains the cuffs are attached to rattling. It’s so damned sexy. Fuck. I need to come. I didn’t realise how hot tying him up and having him at my mercy would be. This is the first time I’ve planned out a scene. If the way he’s reacting is anything to go by, it’s going well.

“That’s right, baby, squirm on my tongue. This is just a taste of what’s to come. Soon, I’ll have my big, throbbing dick buried deep inside you.”

“Please. Please.” He’s begging, whining, and desperate for me.

I’m craving him too, but I want to make this scene last as long as I can.

“Your hole is so perfect, baby. Your pucker is so pretty. I love the way it’s fluttering, anticipating my tongue and my cock. You’ll get both, beautiful. I’ll stuff my cock inside you soon. Make some noise, gorgeous. Show me how much you love having my tongue play with your hole.”

I lick his arse, pushing my tongue as far inside him as I can. He whimpers, moans, and groans so loud I’m never going to be able to look my neighbours in the eye again. I don’t care. The sounds pouring out of his mouth are the most delicious ones I’ve ever heard. I squeeze his balls and stroke his cock as I lick and lap. I watch him, making sure I’m not crossing the line from pleasure into torment. His brows are tugged together. His forehead is creased. His mouth keeps parting into a perfect round O. His back arches. His wrists and ankles strain against the restraint. He lifts his head and flops it down again. He moans and gasps and cries my name, but he doesn’t safeword, not even to ask me to slow down or give him a moment of respite. His balls are full and heavy. How the fuck hasn’t he come? Is needing my permission so powerful that he’s able to hold back the floodgates that must be ready to burst by now.

Kneeling upright, I reach for the lube. “I think you’re ready for my cock now. Aren’t you, gorgeous?”

“Yes,” he rasps.

“You’re being such a good, perfect boy.”

“I want to be good.” He licks his lips. “Give me your cock, Sir. I want it so bad. I need it. I need you.”

“Not yet, baby. I need to warm you up properly first. My tongue might be good, but it’s not that good.”

He pouts.

“You have such a gorgeous pout, beautiful.”

I use my fingers to finish warming up his arse. I take my time, enjoying every whimper and moan, every sexy movement of his body, subtle or large. When he’s ready, I kneel between his legs, slick my dick up with plenty of lube, and press the head against his fluttering hole.

“Are you sure you want me bare?”

“Yes.”

I nod and push inside him slowly. “Holy fuck.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“You feel amazing.”

“You’ve been inside me before.”

“Not like this.” I lean down and kiss him. “Not bare.”

“It makes that much of a difference?”

“Yes, beautiful. Fuck. You feel so good. So hot, so tight. I’m not going to last long, gorgeous.” Which is probably best for both of us.

“I’ll last until you give me permission to come.”

I lie over him and nuzzle his nose. “You must be desperate to empty your heavy balls.”

“Yes.”

I prop myself up on my elbows so I don’t crush him and kiss him as I rock into him, deep and slow. He whimpers, murmurs, and sucks my tongue every time I plunge it into his mouth. I praise him between long kisses. Telling him how beautiful he is, how amazing he feels, how perfect he is. How much I want him. How much I need him. Even though he’s bound, he moves his hips with mine, pulling me deeper into his body. Our hearts beat in synch with one another. Even our moans and murmurs escape our lips at the same time, like we’re perfectly in tune with one another, connected in a profound way.

We’re making love.

I’m making love to him.

My balls draw up tight. I slip my hand between us, stroke his cock, and nip his bottom lip. “Come, gorgeous. Come for me.”