Page 8 of Tempted to Touch (Straight No More #1)

"Mmm. Why would I stop?" To show me just how much he's not stopping, he adds a second finger, stretching me out. It's a delicious burn. "Why would I stop when you take it so good, hm? Needy. Fucking. Mess. "

" Ahh . You're gonna make me cum." I growl through my teeth, my hips bucking back to take his fingers in deeper, faster.

He laughs. It's fucking cruel. "Don't you even dream about it. Not until I allow it."

He thinks he's the boss of me.

He's right.

I grit my teeth and clench my fists, digging my fingernails into my palms, hoping whatever little pain it provides will somehow mitigate the pleasure.

It doesn't. Not when he's rubbing my prostate with every thrust. Not when he stretches me like that. And definitely not when he grabs my cock and strokes me, fast and shallow, squeezing my head every time he touches it.

I'm dancing on the razor's edge and I'm about to fall.

And Hayden knows it. To him, I'm an open book.

He lets go of my cock with a final, satisfying squeeze and the pace of his fingers slows significantly, but not to the point of stopping. "That's right. That's exactly where I want you."

And with that, he withdraws his fingers, leaving me empty, shaking. And fucking frustrated.

My ass still hangs above his head, hips still rocking back into the empty air. I forget to be shy. I don't care anymore.

When he gives my ass a gentle slap and says, "Come," my hand shoots straight to my dick. I manage to give myself two strokes before he laughs and grabs my wrist, stilling my hand. "Not like that." Another slap. "Come with me."

"Wha—" I utter, unmoving as Hayden maneuvers himself from under me, gets off the bed, and stands in front of me, hand reaching out for me to grab. "Come."

Is he fucking serious? "You think I can walk right now?" I ask, but somehow find the strength to crawl off the mattress and stand beside him. Barely.

He takes my hand and drags me behind him.

"Where are we going?"

No response as he leads me across the room. My head's spinning and I can't think straight, following him like it's my default setting. I look around, taking in the space, vaguely recognizing shapes of furniture.

There's a nightstand. And a dresser. And a giant fucking closet that takes up most of the wall. And a wall-mounted mirror.

And the mirror gets bigger.

And bigger.

And then it stops getting bigger.

And is that me in the mirror?

Hayden's strong arm wraps around my middle and he pulls me closer, my back pressing against his chest. He brings his mouth to my ear and whispers, "I want you to look at yourself when I fuck you. I want you to see what I see."

Even through my sexed-up haze, I recognize how messed up this is. How embarrassing.

How much I don't care anymore.

"Yeah," I say, my voice faint, and nod. I place my hand against the wall, right at the mirror's edge. I need the support. "I will. I will do that."

Hayden puts one palm on the back of my neck, giving it a tiny massage and brings his mouth to the side of my head. "You're so good to me, you know that?"

I nod, my head lolling back and forth without rhythm. I don't know anything anymore.

But when Hayden says something, that's how it is. Always.

As he pleases.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, taking advantage of the little bit of stillness.

Even with my eyes closed, I recognize the sounds behind me.

The tearing of the foil. The tiny slap of stretched rubber.

And then, wet, sloppy sounds and a few tiny, barely-there breaths.

I'd turn around and watch him do it if I had the strength. I don't.

Then, there's a hand on my hip, grabbing me tight, and a plump, rounded shape spreading my buttcheeks apart and pushing against my hole.

"Do you know," Hayden says somewhere behind me, his voice coming strained as he pushes against me, "how much I fucking want you?"

I suck in a sharp breath as the head of his oversized cock, somehow, against all odds, makes its way inside me. Makes me want to scream. "I don't. But I want you to keep on talking."

I can practically feel him shake, even through the full-body shudder that ripples through me as Hayden pushes inside me, painfully slowly, all the way in. Miles and miles of it.

I clench my jaw and squeeze my eyes shut even more. It burns. It hurts. And I take it. All of it.

It's not until he's fully inside me, so deep his balls press against my ass, that he finally lets out the breath he was holding, his exhale long and shaky, and says, "Open your eyes. Now ."

It takes strength, lots of it, but I comply. Once I do, I almost faint.

Hayden's face, all stormy and twisted into a delicious grimace, pokes from above my shoulder and his eyes all but eat me up in the mirror.

All of me, as he swipes his gaze up and down and up again, as if trying to memorize me.

It's so intense, so earthshattering I almost don't register the pain as he pulls back halfway before shoving his cock right back into me, his balls slapping softly against my ass.

I let out a moan at the same time as he says, "I want you to play with yourself. Show me. Show me how you do it."

Jesus. Just how much more vulnerable is this man going to make me? How much more will I let him have?

All my answers come when he bends his knees slightly, just so, before withdrawing his cock almost all the way before bottoming out at a new angle, the head of his cock pressing straight against my prostate.

All of me. I'll let him have all of me.

I wrap my free hand around my cock, give myself one dry stroke and hiss. That won't do. I bring my palm to my mouth and lick it.

"Fuck," Hayden breathes out. "I love it. You've no fucking idea."

I find his eyes in the mirror and hold his gaze as I lick it some more. A tiny muscle around his top lip twitches. God...

Once my palm is nice and slippery, I grab hold of my cock again and groan with relief as I stroke myself in time with his thrusts.

To say none of it feels real would be an understatement. I don't know if it's his size, his words, or the fucking overstimulation, but it's like my soul leaves my body, and I'm watching myself, watching us from somewhere in the distance, feeling every minute sensation at the same time.

The way he digs his fingers into my hip, alternating between keeping me still and bucking my hips back and forth.

The way his cock stretches me to the point where it should be painful, but isn't. The way he pounds against my prostate every single time, and every time he does, my cock jerks in my palm, and leaks and cries for release.

"You take me so well, baby boy," he pants out behind me and then chuckles.

It's his mouth, isn't it? It's that filthy mouth that's going to be the end of me.

I just moan, letting him know I heard him. I couldn't speak if I wanted to.

Hayden switches up his angle once more and—fuck, fuck, fuck , how can it feel even better?

—and wraps his arm around my chest, pulling me back, forcing me to let go of the wall.

For a moment I worry I'll go crashing down, my legs struggling to support me.

I don't. His arm is enough to keep me upright.

Leaning against him I reach back and grab his hip. Fuck, he moves so well.

And suddenly the pressure on my cock triples and it takes me a moment to realize his palm has just wrapped around mine, guiding my movements, and speeding them up.

I let out a series of incoherent syllables and my hole clenches around his dick, every muscle spasming, an omen of my rapidly approaching orgasm.

Of course he notices. "That's right. You can let go now," he's speaking to my ear, and it feels like the words come directly from my brain. "I know you need to. And you know what?"

It takes me five tries to utter a single word. "W— Wh— What?"

There's that damn, breathy chuckle again. "I'm needy too. And I need all that cum. All of it, you hear me? Now ."

Fuck. Fuck .

His words echo through my skull, over and over, commanding my body, and even if I wanted to, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from giving it to him.

All of it. Because this is the point of no return, and every scrap of my body turns to molten lava.

I lose control of my muscles and drop my head back against his body and my breathing stops for a moment, my cock and balls throbbing once, twice, three times before I lose it, cum shooting out of me with more force than I've ever experienced before.

And he talks me through it. All the fucking way through it. "Yeah. Give me that cum, baby. Give me what's mine." Every word is a command, an order I've no way of defying. "Yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck. Oh, I'm gonna come."

My body's still convulsing and I'm still fucking coming, but I need him . I slip my palm from under his, letting him milk my cock the rest of the way and bend my body, grabbing the back of his neck with both palms and I just look.

Look at the reflection of his face, that perfect fucking face as it twists and tenses and somehow grows even more handsome as he lets out a long string of curses, and filth and my name, over and over and over.

He doesn't even stop fucking me as he comes, pounding me through it, like he's a machine and not a human being.

I'm not sure he's all human. He might just be divine.

"Fuck. Oh fuck," he pants against me when the roll of his hips finally loses momentum, slowing down, more and more until it comes to a complete halt, and the grip he has on my cock relaxes.

His eyes fall closed and he lets out a long, shaky exhale. And apparently, that's a cue for my body because my thighs twitch and my knees buckle under me.

The arm he has around me tightens. He doesn't let me fall. "I got you. I got you."

I'm not sure where he finds the strength, but I let him hold me, for minutes on end as both of us pant and sigh and come to.

Finally, he lets out a soft laugh before slowly, gently pulling his softening dick out of my body, drawing one more long, pathetic moan out of me.

"Well, that was something." His voice is almost back to normal now.

Mine isn't. "Mmm. Indeed."

"Can you walk?" he asks.

"I think so?" I suddenly remember he's still supporting my entire body weight. I push off him, carefully, testing my own legs. They seem to be working again. "If I remember how to, that is."

Hayden slowly spins me around, wraps his arm around my middle and leads me...somewhere. I don't care where.

As we make our way back through his spacious bedroom, I take a better look this time. I don't know much about interior design, but enough to know none of it came from IKEA. "Can I ask you something?" I say when we stop in front of his bed and I collapse onto it, face first.

Hayden lies next to me more gracefully. "Sure."

Folding my arms under my chin takes more effort than it should. "How'd you get this place? I assume the Fire Department didn't pay for it?"

He laughs. "You assume correctly. Inheritance did." When I raise a questioning eyebrow, he adds, "My father was a massive asshole. I've no problem pissing his legacy away."

"And you chose to be a firefighter, anyway? Why?"

He shrugs. "Because I can."

Damn. I really fucking hope he gives me the ick soon before I do something dumb, like fall in love.

"Look at you," he says, running a finger along my sweaty spine. "You're a mess. You need a shower."

I laugh. "I need a fucking baptism. But not just yet. I need to be dead for a while."

He swoops in closer and drapes a leg around my body. "Take as long as you need."

***

"I TAKE IT I've done my job right?" are the first words I hear when I open my eyes.

"Sorry," I mumble, my voice hoarse. "How long was I asleep?"

Hayden smiles. "Not long." He leans in and gives me a soft, close-mouthed kiss on the lips. "I could watch you sleep all night."

I sigh with content and stretch, my muscles aching pleasantly. I have no idea what time it is. "I can... I can leave," I offer.

"You can." He reaches up and strokes my hair. "But you shouldn't."

Damn it. How is he so...perfect?

Then, he slaps my ass and bursts my sappy bubble. "Come. Let's clean you up."

When a hot, relaxing stream showers over me a few minutes later, and two strong, soaped-up hands slide across my chest, I realize I've never been cleaned by another person before.

I just stand there, partly because I'm tired, partly because it's all so... nice . I let Hayden do his thing, lathering me up all over, including my ass and my spent dick. There's nothing sexual about it—no subtext, no hidden intentions. Just care.

He even washes my hair. Damn.

When he's done, I lean against the shower wall and watch him wash himself. When he shuts off the stream and runs his palms over his black curls to squeeze out excess water, I gather up the courage to ask the question that's been swirling in my mind for a while. "Hayden?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you, like... Need that app? The Grindr thing?"

He steps in closer until he's an inch away and looks down at me with those dark, heavy eyes. "I don't know. I think it's up to you at this point. Do I?"

I try, I really try to keep my face in check, but it's futile. I smile anyway. "No. I don't think you do."

He leans down and kisses me.

"Good. I only ever found one guy I liked there, anyway."

THE END