My shaking hands managed to get his zip down. I curved one palm around the outline of his cock through his shorts. I could have lived and died in the pause before he took in another breath, loved knowing I could do that to him. “Like what?” I knew he wasn’t thinking about me fucking him. Didn’t bother me if I never did—I’d let him fuck me any way he pleased just for the pleasure of having his cock inside me.
“I bet you’d suck me off if I told you.”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” My words could have been a response to the way his shoulder moved so slowly, the way his fingers tightened on me with every downstroke. Or maybe the way his cock fit perfectly against the curve of my hand.
“You would?”
“Too fucking right I would. But…can’t move.” The only room for manoeuvre I had was the barest sliver of breathing space; enough to touch him, enough to breathe, enough to push my hips against him, force my cock through his encircling hand.
“So do it then.”
“What?” Lead weights threatened to pull my eyelids shut. The way his tongue moved against the curve of my neck made me drowsy.
“Get on your knees in front of me and suck my cock.”
“But…”
“You said you wanted to.”
“God. Need…Steven, I’m gonna…I need…”
“Do it.” He didn’t stand back, but began to pull away, loosened his grip by the tiniest margin. “Show me how sorry you are for being a selfish bastard and give me something back. Get on your knees and get that mouth of yours around my cock. Now.”
“Oh God.” I trembled, and might have pushed my weight away from the worktop. Or it could have been that Steven pulled me, twisted around so our positions reversed. “Please, I gotta—”
“I love it when you say that, but nuh-huh.” He shook his head and the light caught a strand of his hair just so, the sharp angle of his brows, the edge of his cheekbone. “You don’t get to come ‘til I do.”
“But—”
“Suck it. You wanted to touch me. Do it. Make it up to me. I’ll only believe you mean it once I’ve come down the back of your throat.”
“Oh God.” My knees hit the floor before he’d even finished speaking. Thank God he’d told me to suck his cock—I wouldn’t have been able to hold myself upright for much longer anyway. Him speaking to me like that turned me on even more than having his hand on me.
“I know you need to come, baby, but…” Both his hands cradled the back of my head and pulled me forward. “Me first. I’ll do…oh Jesus…anything…fuck…”
Steven’s fingers flinched against my scalp, grasping at hair too short to tangle in when I took the head of his cock between my lips. I felt him push back, but laid my hands on his hipbones, silently telling him to wait. Sure, I had to make him come before I got mine, but desperate though I was, this wasn’t to be rushed. I loved the desperation in his voice too much, the rough edge to every hard-won breath, even the way his fingernails dug into my scalp and the back of my neck. He clawed at me the more of him I took and he couldn’t hurt me enough.
“Oh God, do that…do that again.”
I ran the tip of my tongue along the underside of his cock and sucked so hard my cheeks hollowed.
I could have sworn the sounds coming from the back of Steven’s throat—groans and faint, inarticulate murmurs—made my dick even harder but no matter how much I needed to get off, I couldn’t take my hands off Steven. One of my hands stayed against the protrusion of his hipbone, the other, I wrapped around the base of his cock, and stroked in time with my mouth.
“Oh fuck, Kit, God, you… Jesus, don’t stop, that’s—”
“Hey, if either of you guys are in the kitchen, stick the kettle on will ya?”
I froze, mid-stroke, and both Steven’s hands tightened against my scalp.
A heartbeat later, and he was the first to speak. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
I pulled back, just enough to speak, to whisper. “But if he’s out of the shower—”
“Fuck, Kit, I’m nearly there.”
“But—”
“Just fucking suck me off, for Christ’s sake, I need to—”
“In fact, somebody be a pal and make the coffee for me, I’m gasping!” Gary’s voice came from the top of the stairs and I prayed he wouldn’t descend—but then why would he if he was asking one of us to make his drink? He’d finished in the shower and was more than likely wrapped in a towel, and returning to his room to dress.
“Steven, he’s coming—”
“At least somebody is,” he snapped, and I looked up at him for a split second before whipping my gaze away.
“And I’ve still got my dick out.” I pulled away, scrambled to my feet and staggered back, tucking myself in and righting my clothes again.
“Better get yourself decent again,” Steven snapped, turning his back and fiddling with his clothes. “Fuck. Fuck.” He groaned, as if in pain.
“Steve—” I laid my hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off like it burned.
“Don’t.”
“But he could’ve…Jesus, what was I thinking?”
“That’s not the first time you’ve done that to me.”
“What? Jesus, man, we couldn’t… I mean Gary’s just out of the shower and he could come downstairs at any minute. Fuck, this is crazy.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
I caught his eye, waited for him to continue.
“Getting me wound up like that and stopping? Really, I thought things would be different this time—”
“I’m sorry.”
“I wish you were.”
“I thought we were gonna be interrupted.”
“Don’t you mean discovered?”
I hated that Steven could switch from desperation to disgust so quickly. But maybe it was my fault for doing this to him.
“Besides,” he went on, “I wasn’t talking about the fucking blowjob.”
“Steven, I—what are you talking about?”
“You’re not bothered about Gary walking in on you with some other guy’s dick in your mouth—”
“Yes I am!” I
