Page 31 of Bound By Ink

“Oh, God, baby.” His grip slides into my hair, and he gently cups the back of my head. He thrusts his hips, and I smirk. I feel drunk, overcome with emotion. It could be him. He wants me. He could be my future. I lick up his length again and wrap my tongue around his tip before I plunge his dick into my mouth, taking him all the way to the back of my throat. His body jolts, and his hands jerk to my shoulders as he doubles over me.

“Oh, fuck,” he stutters out. And I grin around his dick. His hips thrust, and his thumbs dig into my shoulders harder as he leans on me. His thighs tense as he bucks against me. I stare up at him, his eyes are screwed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, and I lap, suck and slide my teeth against his dick as I give my everything to pleasuring him. Derren mewls, his body going rigid, his hips stutter in their rhythm, and he spills in my mouth as I try to pull back. His hand slides to the back of my head, holding me still.

“Take it all, baby. Every drop is for you.”

I swallow and suck before pulling back, sitting on my heels as he stares down at me.

“Fuck, you’re amazing. You’re a sexy fucker.” His praise does something to me. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel invincible. I made him feel that way, making him come so hard, and I took it all.

After climbing to my feet, I stand in front of him and start to remove my clothes. I don’t look away. A newfound confidence fills me, elated by how hard he came.I fucking did that.I’ve just made him so freaking happy. The contentment on his face says it all. I toss my clothes on the floor, my body naked and bare, just for him.

“You’re stunning.” He bites his lip and shuffles up to me, his jeans still around his ankles. My hard dick bumps against his soft one. He groans and pulls me in for a kiss. “I want to taste myself on you.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me tight. His tongue caresses mine, he nips at it, sucking it into his mouth and groaning.

“Fuck, baby.” His fingers grip my ass cheeks, and he holds our bodies together. I try to grind against him, my dick weeping and needy, crushed between us. He holds me rigid, though. His body torments mine as he grips me firmly. My hips inadvertently buck, thrusting against him.

“Touch me, Derren. Please,” I whimper against him. Frustration replaced with need, desperate for a release. I’m so wound up and turned on.

“Say it, say my name again,” he grumbles into the kiss.

“Derren, please.” I grind against him, his grip relaxes on me, allowing me a marginal sliver of space, and I rotate my hips against his. I thrust and buck against his hip.

“Derren,” I gasp. “I need you.”

“I know, baby.” He smiles against me, but he makes no move to touch me anywhere else, though. Mymovements are uneven and ragged as my nerves are shot, everything tingles, and I need some friction. I need to fuck or be fucked or his mouth on me. I desperately need a release. Fuck, I needsomething.

“Derren.” My voice breaks. “Pleeeaase.”

He smiles against my lips as he kisses me. There’s a buzzing, and he chuckles.

“Saved by the bell.”

“What?” I gasp. He grins at me and leans down, grabbing his phone from his jeans, still pooled around his ankles.

“Dude.” His voice is suddenly normal. That lusty, seductive tone is gone. The breathy, wrecked promises, a mere whisper disappearing. He turns his back to me, struggling to tug up his jeans one-handed.

“Fuck yeah, I’m in… No, I’ve got nothing else on… I’m on my way.”

He turns, grins at me, and tucks his phone into his pocket.

“Gotta go, baby.” He leans forward, brushes a quick kiss across my cheek, and hurries out the door, fastening his jeans as he goes. I’m left standing there naked, confused, and cold. My heart is pounding, trying to beat out of my chest. My breathing elevated and panicked. What the hell just happened? Where has he gone, and what does he mean he hasn’t got anything else on? The front door slams shut, and I startle from my thoughts.

Tears stream down my cheeks; I’m unable to stop them. My heart is in my throat, and choked sobs rip out of me. “What the hell?” I yell.

“Scott. You okay?” I stare at the door.

“Killian?” I gasp, freezing in place, trying to catch up with what’s happening, trying to make sense of everything, wanting to break into a million pieces. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw him run out and dive into his car, squealing off down the street as I pulled up. I just… I needed to check on you.” He steps closer, his hand outstretched, as if approaching a stray, wounded animal.

I stare at him. Blank, empty nothingness spreads through me. Rejection. Humiliation. Devastation.

“Nerd.” The way he says it, his nickname for me breaks something inside me. He steps closer. “Nerd?” His voice is a rasp. My skin pebbles. My breathing picks up more. His leather jacket splayed open. His tight T-shirt fitted across his muscles, his jeans snug across his thighs tucked into his motorbike boots, the smell, his smell, prickles at my senses. He steps closer, kicking the door closed behind him.

His voice comes out raspy, with a dangerous edge, that gravel dragging across my skin. “Nerd, did he hurt you?” His hand reaches up to my face, and I don’t think. I knock it away. Throwing myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into me, I force my tongue into his mouth. He goes rigid. His hands grip my hips, his entire body tenses as I grind myself against him. He tries to push me back, just enough to look at me.

“Nerd, wait, think about this.” His words are a gasp of warning.

“Killian, please, I need you to not think, just once, I just need you once.”