Page 77 of Edging Coach
Blood pounded in my ears. The cock cage tightened yet again. The toy thrummed against my prostate. The clamps kept that burn and that ache alive and well.
As Devon’s footsteps came back down the hall, he was bringing either immediate relief or protracted torment.
And I knew without a doubt which choice I was going to make.
CHAPTER 22
DEVON
As much as I wanted to make Jack wait, those alligator clamps had been on long enough. Circulation issues were a thing, and I wasn’t going to risk injuring him.
I towel-dried myself quickly, then slung a fresh one around my waist—keeping concealed what Jack most wanted to see while ensuring I didn’t have any restrictions. I was already hard and aching to pound into his ass. One thing I’d learned from an early age was the concept of delayed gratification. That the longer I could prolong something pleasurable, the better I’d feel when I finally allowed myself the indulgence.
Upon entering the main room, I discovered Jack with his eyes closed.
The plug still vibrated in his ass.
The cock cage was still attached.
The porn on the television still played.
And, to my delight, he still wore the nipple clamps. Those had to come off first.
Jack’s eyes flew open—as if he sensed my presence. His mouth opened andclosed.
I frowned.
“Two. I pick two. The second…choice? Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want. To do to me. To do with me. Just…that.”
I held in my grin.
Barely.
“Whatever I want?”
He nodded frantically.
“Okay. I was thinking of grilling up some salmon for lunch?—”
He whimpered.
You’ve fucked with him enough.Well, for the moment, anyway. I made my way over to him. Carefully, I positioned myself between his naked thighs.
He swallowed. Hard.
I leaned forward and removed the first clamp.
“Fuck. Oh shit, that—” He paused. “Oh Christ, that feels good.”
Grinning to myself, I continued to suck. I’d removed the clamp and replaced it with my mouth. Licking, sucking, and encouraging circulation to come back. After a moment, I moved to the other nipple and repeated the process—replacing the bite of the clamp with the warmth and gentle touch of my mouth.
He ran his hands through my hair.
I’d give him this moment. Then I hadplans. I pulled back to gaze up at him. “How’s your cock?”
“Neglected. Sir.”
“Glad you didn’t forget the honorific.” I gestured with my chin. “And your ass?”
