Emery [bxb]

111

I place my left hand on Emery's neck, thumb on his chin and index finger on his earlobe while my right hand strokes the back of his head tenderly.

His own right hand cradles my neck while his left smoothes down my hair.

"Oh, fuck..." Emery's brow is crumpled with pain and pleasure. Our faces are close, noses bumping. I can feel his breath, practically hear his heart beating. "Fuck..." His mouth forms an O, eyes boring into mine as the machine thrusts behind him.

"Tell me it feels good," I murmur, caressing his scalp.

My hand slides up his neck and I squeeze his jaw between my thumb and index finger. His expression is wanton and pleading, mouth open in a silent scream.

"It feels so good," he pants as the machine thrusts dutifully behind him. His thumb rubs the underside of my earlobe.

I squeeze Emery's throat experimentally, just for half a millisecond. My fingers relax, loose and gentle around him.

"Tell me you love it." I regard him through hooded eyes.

He moans and pushes back hard.

"I love it..." Eyebrows arc with surprise.

Look at him. Mouth open with rapturous bliss. Bouncing along to the thrusts. Fingers digging brutally into my trap muscles. Eyes narrowed to slits. He really does.