Trust Me | MxM | BDSM

16. Yours to Use

I take a tentative step, sliding my foot across the parquet floor before following it with my body. So I make my way forwards in the dark of the blindfold - until my shin collides with the couch. Suddenly, his fingers are at my wrist, holding it firmly to pull me close. I fall awkwardly, my hands finding leather and skin to hold my weight. He guides me onto his lap at my hips, and his hard-on rubs against my thighs. It's slippery, already coated in lube.

"Did you prepare for me?"

"Yes, Master Kemp." Admittedly, it's been a couple hours since then. I can hear the amusement in his dry huff.

"Oh, did you wear a plug at work?" He claws at my ass, burying his nails in the firm flesh. I flinch forwards with a yelp, but there's nowhere to go. My hip collides with his chest.

"No, Master Kemp."

"Well, then I guess we will see how prepared you are." 

I feel his breath hit my wet tip with every word, and moan at the closeness of his mouth to my cock. He shifts beneath me, pulling me away slightly before his lips descend on my erection. He pushes his tongue out to taste me, and I fall forwards with a moan and trembling hips while my nails dig into his shoulders.

His tongue massages the soft flesh, pushing the blood out before sucking it right back in. He moans loudly, and the thought of him enjoying this is driving me crazy. It makes me want him to stop so he can start fucking me, yet I never want it to end. I arch my back, thrusting into him. He continues seemingly undisturbed.

When my cock twitches -rock hard-, and I feel myself nearing release, Gavrilo pulls away, slapping my ass. I wince at the pain mixing with the lingering pleasure that his attentive mouth has left me with. He guides me onto his cock with a hand on my hip while his other holds it steadily.

"Go on," he murmurs and I imagine him staring at the retreating space between us while I lower myself onto him. He groans when he finally slips into me, and I feel his muscles relax. He sinks back against the couch, his hands dropping onto my calves. His touch is tender as he draws imperfect circles with the tips of his fingers, causing his nails to softly scrape across my skin.

I lower myself further, enjoying the harder part of his length when it stretches me, and then his tip rubbing against my insides. I shiver, moaning unrestrained before easing into a slow rhythm that leaves both of us wanting for more. I enjoy every inch of him, feeling his shape with my ass; the slight arch and the size of him.

He moves one hand up my body, though not to stroke me but simply to feel out my abs, then my chest. Finally, his fingers cup my cheek, and he pushes his thumb past my lips. I taste the salty skin and he pulls my jaw open.

"Ride me, my little liar," he pants caringly - as if the insult was the sweetest nickname. As if my lies didn't matter to him. My heart aches for that appreciation. The lies are no choice. It's the only way I can be.

I'm glad that the silk belt hides most of my face; how it contorts in pain as I long for a chance to just be myself, whoever that might be. My nails scratch him when I drop them from his shoulders, then lean down sloppily to find his lips for a kiss. His fingers immediately slip onto my neck, and he keeps me close firmly, as hungry for me as I am for him.

We both moan into the kiss, and I pick up the pace, wanting to have all of him. His breath hits my lips the way that mine does his as we pant, our foreheads resting against another. Both our hands seem to find my cock at the same time, and so we pump it together, fingers entwined. He starts thrusting into me when I near my release, clenching around him. I cry out a curse when I come hard, and Gavrilo's whispered words get lost in my continuous moaning as my body succumbs to the pleasure.

He pushes all of his cock into me, rolling his hips to get even the last inch inside, and the way his body tenses tells me that he is coming as well. He stills, only a tremble shaking his body before he lets out a long groan. His hands slump onto the couch.

The quiet that surrounds us feels empty, and I take a sharp breath as the desire to fall into his arms overcomes me. I long for praise and appreciation, yet I get none of that. Gavrilo pushes me off his chest, then unceremoniously takes off the blindfold. I stare into his green eyes that regard my own.

"I'm sorry, Master Kemp," I mutter quickly, already tearing my gaze away. I don't want him to hurt me, not know.

"It's fine." He sighs and gets to his feet, gesturing for me to do the same. I scramble from the couch. "You should get yourself cleaned up before you dirty my furniture."

The remark seems detached, and the coldness of it stings. I nod obediently before returning to my room for the familiarly freezing shower, then slip beneath the sheets. I hug the blanket tightly around my shoulders, hoping that might get me warm again sooner.