Page 85 of Seven Minutes
His voice was shredded silk, low and frayed at the edges. It went straight to my spine.
My tongue snaked out to swipe the length of his shaft. He eased himself out of my mouth until only the head rested against my swollen lips. For a second, I thought he might stop, give me a breather, gather himself.
He didn’t.
Adrian dragged the slick tip along my lower lip, leaving a stripe of precum behind. Then again, tapping lightly—once, twice—testing my hunger for him.
“Open,” he whispered.
I did.
He pushed back inside, not deep, just enough for the thick head to stretch past my lips, filling my mouth with his flavor. He groaned, a long, ruined sound, and his free hand gripped my hair in a way that felt like devotion disguised as restraint.
“God, Eli…” His voice wavered. “You look so good like this.”
He rocked forward the slightest bit, sliding another inch over my tongue, letting me feel the slow, heavy pulse of him. Not thrusting. Not taking. Just claiming that space. Using my mouth as if it belonged to him. His carefully controlled thrusts became desperate and uncoordinated.
My eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a guttural sound that made my whole body clench. I palmed his ass, pulling him deeper into my mouth.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “That. Stay right there.”
He nudged deeper, almost lazily, savoring every fraction of movement that killed him and saved him in the same breath.
“Let me have this,” he whispered, voice shaking as his thumb stroked my cheek. “Just… let me have you for a minute.”
Then he pushed in deep and held the back of my head, keeping my mouth imprisoned on his cock. It pulsed on my tongue, growing impossibly thicker, taking up all the space in my mouth, and forcing me to breathe through my nose.
He gave one, two shallow thrusts, hitting the back of my throat, before pulling out so I could catch a deep breath. Myeyes watered as I smiled up at him, my lips tingling from the stretch.
“Touch yourself,” he grated, cradling my jaw.
Adrian stroked himself quickly as I tugged my pants down, copying his movements, his rhythm. His breathing came ragged, stomach flexing. He tipped his head back in pure pleasure before remembering to look at me, head snapping down, eyes fluttering open.
“Faster,” Adrian urged, increasing his pace.
Heat licked up my side as I flexed every muscle in my arm and stomach, trying to come with him.
“Fuck, Elias,” Adrian breathed. “Open your mouth.”
I parted my lips, my toes curling, waiting, needing the taste of his claiming warmth.
Adrian’s breath hitched, broke, thenshatteredinto a sound I’d never forget. A raw, guttural groan ripped from his chest as he came. Thick, hot ropes spilled from him in sharp pulses.
Most of it missed my mouth, streaking across my collarbone, my chest, painting me in messy white lines. I gasped at the heat, the shock of it, the way it felt like his desire had branded every inch of me.
“Jesus—Eli—” he breathed, voice cracking.
Still shaking, Adrian leaned in and dragged the swollen head of his cock through the mess on my skin. Spreading it over me with a kind of reverence that made my pulse slam against my ribs.
“Keep going,” he rasped. “You’re so close. Don’t stop.”
His fingertips framed my chest as he smeared the slickness, gliding it over my sternum, circling my nipple with his thumb. Ifelt the stroke everywhere—in my spine, in my teeth, in my shaking thighs.
That did it.
My release tore through me, sharp and overwhelming. My body snapped forward, bending around the force of it, my abs seizing, vision blurring at the edges.
“Adrian—” His name ripped from me, raw and choked. “Adrian.”
