Page 54 of Break Me Open
“Arseny.”
“Shh.” His thumb traces my lower lip. “You’re going to be quiet for me.” He takes my hand and guides it slowly to his belt. My breathing hitches as my chest rises and falls rapidly; the thrill of being told what to do burns through my veins. My fingers tremble as I unfasten Ari’s belt, then the zip. He’s already hard and straining against his boxers.
My hand slips inside, freeing him, and my fingers wrap around his thick length. Fuck. He’s so big. It makes my mouth water.
A shudder runs through Ari at the contact, his muscles tense, and his jaw clenches. “Fuck,” he snarls under his breath, his other hand fists in my hair and his cock twitches in my grip.
My thumb brushes over the slick tip, gathering the pre-cum, spreading it down his shaft in a slow, teasing stroke.
Ari’s breath comes out in a low, dangerous growl. “Faster,” he gasps. His voice is rough and his hand tightens in my hair. “Harder.”
My strokes quicken; my grip firms; my thumb presses into the underside of Ari’s cock the way I knew would drive him wild. The slick, wet sounds of my hand working him fill the small room. Ari’s head tilts back, his throat works as he swallows a groan, his hips jerk forward, fucking into my fist with short, sharp thrusts, his entire body is coiled tight.
“Yeah... like that,” he grits out. His voice turns into a low rasp. “Just like that, you fucking tease.” His free hand slides from my chest, trailing lower, gripping and squeezing my cock through my uniform.
My own cock is painfully hard, trapped, and leaking pre-cum with every stroke I give him, the ache of denial makes my breaths come faster, matching his.
Ari’s muscles tense, his entire body goes rigid as he nears the edge. He drags my head to his, pressing his forehead to mine. His voice is a low, guttural snarl. “Fuck. Caiden. Make me come.”
My strokes become frantic, my focus is absolute. I can feel Ari swelling in my hand, the veins throbbing, the head leaking more pre-cum with every pass of my thumb. Ari’s breath is ragged, his chest heaving, his grip on my hair bordering on painful.
Then, Ari breaks, groaning against my mouth as he comes hard and pulsing over my hand. His release is hot and thick, coating my fingers, dripping from my hand to the floor. Ari’s body jerks with the force of it, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps. I don’t stop stroking him, pulling every last drop from him, my own cock aching with the need for release.
Finally, Ari’s body sags against me. His hand loosens in my hair, sliding to stroke the side of my face. It’s gentle in a way that shouldn't undo me, but it does.
“Fuck,” Ari murmurs, his voice rough, his breath ghosting over my lips. “You’ve been begging for my cock all week, haven’t you?”
I let out a shaky laugh, my body still thrumming with unresolved need. “Maybe,” I admit. My voice has turned husky. “But I wasn’t the one who snapped first.”
Ari’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, his fingers brushing over the damp spot right over my cock. I swallow a moan, and my hips jerk involuntarily. “No,” Ari agrees, his voice a low purr. “But you’re the one who’s still hard,” he says, thumb pressing right where I ache. “And I’m not leaving you like this. Not today.”
Twenty
Arseny
Caiden’s still breathing hard. I can hear it, feel it, every shaky exhale brushing my lips. Caiden Varrik, the man who glares at explosions and doesn’t flinch, is trembling against me because I told him to touch me.
He doesn’t even realise what it does to me. His lips are parted, cheeks flushed, eyes closed, and he’s trying so hard not to grind against my hand, it’s almost sweet. I rest my forehead against his, letting my lips hover over his mouth. He doesn’t lean in. Not yet.
Good boy.
I let my hand drift from his jaw down to his throat, my fingers grazing the pulse still hammering there, just as a reminder of who put him in this state. “Caiden,” I say quietly, tasting his name like something I could bite into. “Look at me.” He does immediately, his eyes snapping open as if he were waiting for me to tell him what to do. That’s the look I’ve been waiting for since I slammed him into the training mats and pretended it was sparring — submission, not fear. Want, not confusion. A crack in the armour.
I sweep my thumb over his lips slowly. “You’ve been making noise all week,” I murmur. “In your head, in your body, every time I walk past you.” He swallows hard and I lean in until my lips just ghost his ear. “And now look at you. Hard and shaking for me because you finally learned how to say please with your hands.”
He tries to speak, “Arseny, I—” and I shut him up with a hard kiss, my fingers digging into his throat.
“Don’t talk,” I whisper, pulling back. “Not yet.” His hips roll slightly, grinding into my hand before he can stop himself. “So needy,” I murmur, pressing just enough to make him groan. “You think you hide it well, hm?” He shuts his eyes like the truth physically hurts. “No,” I say softly. “Open them. I want you to watch me when I touch you.” He obeys, and it hits me how badly I want him, how long I pretend he didn’t crawl under my skin the night he kissed me like he wanted to tear my soul out through my teeth.
I push the thought away. Right now, I want his knees to give out. My fingers toy with his belt. “Tell me, Caiden,” I murmur. “How long have you wanted this? How long have you been waking up with me in your head?”
“Too long,” he whispers.
“You’re going to come for me,” I whisper. “Right here.”
My lips curl as I sink to my knees; the movement is slow, like a predator choosing when to strike. My fingers hover over his belt, teasing the buckle before I finally unfasten his trousers.
The fabric strains against the thick, heavy length of his cock, and he groans as my fingers release him from his boxers. “Fuck, Arseny,” he whispers, his voice cracking with the effort of holding back. I chuckle; my breath is warm against his skin.
