Page 70 of Beautiful Chaos
As soon as that dumb question fell out of my mouth, I got it. The first time we experimented with them, he barely got his mouth on me before I went off like a rocket.
It’s almost half past five in the morning, and he’s going to town on my cock while holding the two stimulators against mynipples. We’ve been testing out the buzzing patterns, and he just landed on the one that’s going to do the trick.
“I can feel you trying to smile around my dick.”
He flicks his electric blue eyes up to me, letting them slowly, slowly swirl to black.
Fuck.Fuck.
He just did the energy shift. Pennywise might cool my jets, but Evil Sy is rocket fuel to my libido.
“Jesus, Sy.”
He pulls off immediately. “Too intense?” he asks, his eyes bleeding out to blue. “Did I scare you?”
He’s asking because I have to be the one in charge.
Or he might accidentally kill me.
“Yes,” I say, adding a little extra bass to my voice. “To both. Don’t fucking stop.”
He simultaneously hits the intensity button on both stimulators, letting his smile…hisbeing…become evil. He keeps eye contact with me as he slowly lowers his mouth back to my cock, gently twisting the stimulators as he does.
He’s nowhere near my size, but I can’t describe the sensations crashing through my body right now. Shame that he scares me so much, ecstasy from everything he’s doing, and a deep, abiding need for him to continue doing it.
I get vampire smut now. Even that sends an additional shiver down my spine. If Silas had fangs, would I still let him blow me?
Unquestionably.
That’s the one fucked-up thought that finally pushes me over the edge.
“Sy, I…”
His eyes flash, and he takes me deeper. Ierupt.
There’s no other word for it. My balls ache with the velocity, and he sucks every drop from me as he plays the stimulatorsover my nipples until I’m bucking and begging for him to stop.
He does, gently pulling away the stimulators, his aura immediately shifting. Joyful, on the edge of laughter. Not making fun of me, just…proud of himself.
“Call it,” I say, letting my head drop back to the pillows. “Five twenty-seven a.m., Doctor Oakley Ashford dies of orgasm.”
That brings out his dark little chuckle, and I pull him up to me. “You are so fucking good at that.”
His grin broadens, then his eyes widen and an aborted scream leaves his lips when I toss him face down on the bed.
I scramble between his legs, grip his hips, and pull them up. I dive face-first into his ass, licking him with a broad, powerful tongue. The sounds coming out of him amuse me because he can’t seem to help them, despite his valiant efforts to the contrary.
We don’t have time for me to fully recover and fuck him properly, so my tongue will have to do. I press the tip inside and he punches the bedding. I know it’s good, but not quite enough to get him there, so I torture him in that delicious in-between until he’s begging.
I told him he couldn’t touch his cock, and he’s clearly struggling with that bit of instruction. When he reaches underneath himself, I pull away.
“Do I need to get the handcuffs? I don’t know if I have time for that.”
“Please,” he begs.
“Does my terrifying little fuck toy need relief?”
“Please,” he says again. Like he’s lost all vocabulary, save for that one word.
