Page 71 of Loverboy

A sharp, tingling pain exploded at the base of my scalp when he pulled me by the hair and forced my back to bow, the couch groaning under all our movement. Every inch of him blanketed my backside, and despite my head spinning with whiplash from being manhandled, I pushed even harder into him. We couldn’t possibly get any closer unless he was inside me.

I wanted him inside me. I needed him to rip me open and see how ugly I was, and still be hungry for more.

“You’re still a shitty liar.” He reached around with his injured hand and grabbed me by the throat.

I struggled to suck in air as his grip tightened, the pressure squeezing a fresh wave of blood from his palm that trickled down to my collarbone. He held me like that, against his chest, white noise buzzing in my skull.

His hand relaxed, and he rubbed the column of my throat tenderly with his fingertips, smoothing the blood over more of my skin as he pressed his lips to my hair.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” His hand moved up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lip and pressing it down until my lips parted.

Heat crept up my neck fast and flooded my cheeks. I gave him the smallest of nods, my lashes fluttering wildly as I tried to look up at him. Even with his hair falling over the rim of his glasses and obscuring his eyes, I could tell that the admission pleased him. The corner of his lips curved, absolutely sinister.

I wanted to touch myself right then, ached to get even the tiniest crumb of relief. My movements were clumsy as I tried to make a move to relieve some of the pressure with my uninjured hand, but Jasper squeezed my jaw with one hand, the other grabbing my wrist and yanking it away.

“Please.” My voice wavered. “It hurts.”

He tilted his head and leaned next to my ear. “It’s supposed to.”

Jasper bit me again, this time on the shell of my ear. I cried out, my hips jerking forward in search of something to grind against. My cock brushed against the cushions, and it felt good, so good that I’d started rocking into it, shuddering each time I made contact.

Jasper released my wrist and grabbed my hip, his fingernails digging into my skin, squeezing. His messy hand slid across my stomach, dipping lower and stroking over my cock just once. I nearly exploded from the fleeting contact.

“I want… I want—”

“I can’t hear you.” He shifted on his feet behind me, both hands moving to press into my back, bending me over until my face was in the cushions again. “What was that?”

“Touch,” I rasped. “Touch me. Fuck me.”

A sharp crack filled the air, my jaw slackening, mouth hanging wide open. I was too stunned to make a noise as I processed that he’d struck the side of my ass with an open hand. It stung, but the pain bloomed into pleasure, my cock throbbing and leaking.

His palm smoothed over my tender skin, his voice low, almost hesitant. “What are you going to do the next time you feel like hurting yourself?”

“Come to you?”

“That’s right,” he murmured. “Always come to me.”

Finally, he touched me again. He was so warm against me, his clean hand moving to cover mine, our fingers intertwining as they dug into the sofa. I moaned and bucked my hips when his messy one found my cock again and started all over, pumping me harder and faster than before.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he rumbled with satisfaction, the vibration from his chest bleeding into my back.

I was filthy. Everywhere he’d touched was sticky with a combination of gore and evidence of my pleasure. He moved with ease, slippery with precum, up and down my shaft over and over again until I was nearly seeing white. I tried to think of something else, anything else to keep me from finishing too early and losing the high I was riding.

But I didn’t have to. Just before I lost myself, he pulled back. There was no time to mourn the loss this time as his slick index finger dipped into the cleft of my ass, and he drew agonizing little circles around the untouched, tight ring of muscle.

“Plea—Fuck!” I cursed as he slammed knuckle-deep inside of me.

My body’s first instinct was to pull away, the burn rocking my senses. Between Jasper and the couch, there was nowhere for me to go. I whimpered as he began to pump that finger in and out, the ache softening into pleasure that made my whole body throb.

I didn’t want to stop him; I wanted him deeper.

“If you don’t relax, you’re never going to be able to swallow my dick with this hole,” Jasper said, his voice low and rough.

“I can take more,” I rasped, squeezing our hands together tighter.

“Is that so?” he mused.

A second finger slid inside and stretched me wider, my muscles burning and quivering around them, unwilling to let go. He curled them inside me just right, like he knew me inside and out, and sparks rocketed up my spine. My cock pulsed and wept even more, hips jerking back into his touch even as tears began to blur my vision. I felt so full, and I was still greedy for more.