Page 7 of Want Me
“Put your feet on the edge of the bed.”
“Are you sure?” My eyes popped open to stare down at him.
He laughed. “Pretty fucking sure. Let me see you.”
If I did that, I’d be wide open to him, exposed to the max. I weighed my hesitation against the promise blazing in his eyes. I lifted one leg up and then the other, exposing my ass, and was about to crack some dumb joke about feeling like a girl going to a gynecologist but yelped out instead as his tongue hit my hole in a rush of velvety heat.
Nerve endings I didn’t even know I had sang through my body. One of my feet shot off the bed reflexively, and Eric caught it as I scrabbled and eased me back into position.
“Holy shit,” I gasped as he anchored his hands to the backs of my thighs, keeping me rooted to the bed and spread wide for him.
No response from him except for a warm hum of sound that vibrated over my taint and sank into my aching balls.
He licked me in long, hot strokes, from my crack to my sac, where he’d pause to nibble at the loose skin there. His hand came up to my shaft, but instead of pumping me hard and fast like I wanted him to, he squeezed the base, pulsing his fist around me. My head thrashed back, and my fingers dug into the sheets.
“Don’t. Fucking. Stop,” I rasped out. I didn’t think he was going to, though. By now I was convinced he was hell-bent on driving me to the edge of sanity.
His tongue kept stroking, lapping at me, circling my hole, and my hips started rocking to meet him, wanting more, wanting something…
I yelled out again as Eric pushed his tongue inside me, spearing me with that smooth muscle. I could feel his spit dribbling down the crack of my ass and forming a wet spot beneath me. My cock was weeping, throbbing, sweeping me along in the dual torture-pleasure of his hand still pulsing on my shaft and his tongue fucking my asshole. The wet smacks and grunts coming from both of us were an insane turn-on.
“Jerk me, please,” I begged. When there was no response, I lifted a shaky hand to fist my cock only to have it batted away. I growled out my frustration. After that, he started moving his hand slowly, lightly. Not enough. Fire burned through my core as he sucked and licked and pushed into me. But I needed more.
“Fingers,” I pleaded, then heard the pop of a cap. Lube-slicked fingers slid back in my ass, finding my prostate easily, filling me, stroking me, building intensity until he was coming in hard and fast, then twisting inside me and pulling back slow. I couldn’t catch my breath. My abs flexed and contracted. My whole damn body felt like one giant muscle tensed for release.
With his finger still plugging at my ass, Eric pushed one of my knees down and maneuvered onto the bed next to me, half on his side. My eyes flew to his face, taking in the spit-glazed, swollen lips, the wide pupils, and that piercing stare still trained on me. Hell, he looked like pure sex. His chin tilted down, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me. Panic and fear widened my eyes, and I blurted out, “Fuck me.”
Eric’s jaw went slack with confusion, his fingers stilling inside me. “What? Really?”
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I want it.” I did want it. I didn’t want him to kiss me, but I wanted him to fuck me, and it probably made no kind of sense to him and hardly made sense to me, but I saw the flash of untempered desire in his eyes when I said it, and I knew he wanted it, too.
Still, he hesitated, a shadow of vulnerability passing over his features that I’d never seen in him before and wouldn’t have guessed he was capable of. He touched the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth and then nodded. “Same goes, though—no freaking out. Remember you asked for this.”
I wondered if there was something else making him so cautious or if it was just because it was me and what he thought he knew about me.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want. But I won’t freak out.”
“Oh, I want to, frat boy, no fucking worries. I’m dying to get in that tight hole.” And just like that, his confidence was back. Somehow its reappearance put me at ease.
I rolled onto my stomach.
“That how you want it?” The mattress dipped as Eric slid from the edge of it.
“Yeah.” I wanted his dick in me, but I didn’t want the intimacy of him watching me while he fucked me. Or the possibility of kissing. That was territory I was nowhere near ready for yet, if I’d ever be.
I felt his touch land gently on my hip. He tapped me. “Up on your knees.” The denim of his jeans rustled as he pushed them down his legs. The laces of his shoes whispered as he tugged them loose. Even the sound of him undressing was twisting me up.
“Nightstand, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I assumed he was asking about condoms, and that was, of course, the universal location.
The foil packet crinkled, and I glanced over my shoulder to find it clenched between Eric’s teeth as he ripped it, his other hand lightly stroking up and down his shaft as he looked at my ass. He gave me a wild, wicked grin that set my groin simmering all over again, then rolled the condom down over his cock, pinching the end.
I dropped my head down to my forearms. His fingers brushed over my hole, dipping just inside, and I shifted, trying to wriggle back onto his fingers.
Planting his palm low on my back, Eric nudged me forward as he put his knees to the edge of the bed and shuffled closer.
“Perfect,” he breathed out, the sound low, almost hoarse. “This is a good look for you.” More teasing. I was ready to quip back, but just then the tip of his cock brushed my hole and I forgot what I’d been about to say. The sensation was so different: his head all blunt and smooth, plump with the flush of blood, and it slid against me effortlessly. He kept pressing the heel of his hand into my back, making languid back-and-forth passes up and down my crack that teased me until I was nearly postal with the desire to impale myself on him. He reached down, kneading my balls for a second, and then one hand moved to my hip and latched on to me like an anchor.