“Feel what you’ve done to me, Devin,” he breathes, a sneering edge to his tone as he grinds against me.
Giving as good as I get, I move my hips forward in response, rubbing my own dick against his body. We’re both fully dressed, and the heat that’s radiating between us makes me feel like I’m trapped in a building inferno beneath all these layers, and I want them off. I want his bare skin on mine as I let him unleash everything he’s holding back on me.
“Is that all you got?” I taunt, and he releases my throat to fist my hair.
“I haven’t even started,” he responds, and I flash him an evil grin.
Sliding my free hand down the front of his sweats, I tease the sensitive skin above his cock with my fingertips. He shivers, and his hand which is still wrapped around my wrist loosens at my touch, and then tightens again when I fist his cock, and ease my own up and down his thick shaft. Ethan lets out a low moan and seeks my mouth, thrusting his tongue deep inside. I match him, fighting back while maintaining my slow movements and grip on his cock, working him into a passionate, furious frenzy.
Chapter Eighteen
Ethan
I’m losing myself in the sensations that Devin is creating with his hand and trying not to surrender to the growing need that I’ve been fighting to repress when it comes to him. His hand is warm, and his movement skillful as he works my dick with fervor, and I know he’s trying to ply me with pleasure. I’m still shocked that he somehow found me, but it pales in comparison to the hatred that’s warring heavily with my desire for more of what he’s doing.
Jerking my hips forward, I trap his hand and groan when he fights my weak attempt at obstructing him to continue with his rhythmic strokes. We’re both breathing heavily, mouths still locked together. I hate how much I want Devin. I want to hurt him, but in this moment, what I want most is to take this stuck up prick, put him on his knees in front of me, and fuck him until he’s begging me for mercy.
Gripping him by the hair again, I deepen the kiss and move back a couple of inches so I can slowly unbutton his jacket and shirt to expose his chest to me. His body is toned and muscled, and there’s a thin smattering of hair trailing down from his belly button and beneath the waistband of his pants. Devin gasps into my mouth when I lightly brush my fingertips down his chest and stomach to tease at the edge of his pants before sliding them back up and over his nipples.
Devin infuriates me, even as he drives the craving to own him to ridiculous heights. I will fuck him, but I’m not going to go easy on him either. I pinch his firm nipple between my thumb and forefinger, lightly tweaking it before applying more pressure. Extracting his hand from my pants, I distract myself from the loss of his delicious touch by undoing his and tugging them down to free his dick. I wrap my hand around his shaft and slide my palm along it. He lets out a gasped moan, tilting his head back as much as I’ll allow.
Devin likes to play the big man. He has the money and the power to back him up, but right now with his dick in my hand, I’m the one holding all of the power, and by the end of the night, he’s going to know it. I slow my pace and loosen my hand so I’m giving him the barest of touches. He grabs me, squeezing my arms with a moan, and I watch as his expression contorts at my torturous and light teasing.
I release my hold and tug his pants back up, enjoying the annoyed growl that passes his lips. Spinning him around, I quickly admire how his pants are tailored perfectly over his ass and press myself up against his back, digging my dick into the crease of his behind.
“You’re gonna fucking take this, Devin,” I tell him, whispering over his shoulder and into his ear.
He turns his head slightly to look at me out of the corner of his eye and his lips kick up into a devious grin, “About fucking time, I was getting bored.”
I grit my teeth and do my best not to visibly react to his taunts. I don’t respond, simply push him forward. Devin doesn’t fight me; he allows me to manhandle him all the way to my bedroom. As we cross the threshold he twists in my grasp and forces me into a grapple. He let me think I was in control to lure me into a fall sense of security, but we’ll see who has the upper hand at the end of this.
I fight back, unwilling to allow him to regain the control he handed to me the moment he challenged me to touch him. Gaining the upper hand, I slam him up against the wall, pinning him in place again.
“You have no fucking control here, you got that?” I snarl, inches away from his lips, as I glare at him.
“If you want control, you’re going to have to take it from me,” he responds, and his eyes are bright even though the pupils are swallowing the warm honeyed color of his irises.
I look down at him. His shirt is still hanging open, giving me a tantalizing view of his body, and his pants are still unbuttoned, sitting loosely on his hips. The way Devin looks right now is a
