Page 103 of Edged
He let go of the sheets and curled his hands around my head, fingers threading into my hair as he held my face directly above his. The muscles in my arms trembled as I tried to hold my balance and fuck him at a snail’s pace so I could drag the moment out a little while longer.
“I need you to know.” Words were hard because my orgasm sparkled around the edges of my vision, threatening to pull me under without so much as a warning. “My biggest regret is the ten years I wasted. The ten years I could have spent making you come.”
Owen gasped and whimpered. Even though it had been months, I recognized the tension in his body, the twitch at the corner of his mouth. I went still and pulled out, leaving his hole gaping and hungry for my dick. His hold on the back of my head tightened before he flung his arms to the sides and cried out.
“I’ll make it up to you, though.” I teased my head back into his channel, letting his ring close down around me before pulling all the way back out.
“You don’t…don’t have to.”
“But I want to.”
In and out.
In an out.
An inch, an inch, then two, then one, and three, and one.
“I’m going to come up with a thousand new ways to own your body,” I promised, taking his earlobe between my teeth and giving it a tug. “A thousand new ways to make your orgasms hurt in all of the best ways.”
I’d get him a cage, a plug. I’d get sounds. I’d try every tool and toy out on him that both of our hearts desired, and I would make him beg and cry and plead and whimper until he didn’t have words. Until he didn’t have thought. Until he had the only thing that mattered.
Me.
Until he had me.
And I would spend the rest of my life making sure that I was the only thing he needed. I would take care of him in all the ways I should have, and all the ways I wanted to.
“I need to come, Archie. You’re killing me,” he whined, hips pumping as I thrust into him again.
This time four inches, six inches, one inch, one inch, all the way home.
“Not yet.”
Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to come first. I wanted to see his face when I spilled inside of him, while I found my own pleasure in depriving him of his own. I wanted him to know how much I loved him when he gave that to me.
“Archie.”
“Not yet.” I buried myself deep, my thrusts turning into nothing more than feral rutting. The back of his head angled up against the headboard, the sound of our wet skin slapping against each other loud enough to echo off the walls of the hotel room.
“Archie,” he rasped my name again.
“Not yet.” I let my lips dance across his, feather-light. Sweat dripped from my forehead, splattering onto his curls and sliding down onto the pillow. He brought his hands back, this time grabbing my shoulders, like he was trying to change the pace of how I fucked him to get him over the edge. “You can last a little longer, can’t you?”
He shook his head, lower lip quivering.
“I know you can,” I assured him. We were both right at the precipice. It wouldn’t be long now. “I know it hurts, but you can hold out a little longer.”
One of his eyes opened, revealing the white of his eye and his lashes fluttered like he was trying to keep himself conscious.“For you.”
The words were barely audible, but they were the right ones, and they were everything.
“For me, yeah.”
I buried myself to the hilt and let the ferocity of my own orgasm drag me beneath the surface of coherency. A guttural shout broke the silence, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was me. I was the one who I had cried out like I’d finished a marathon or won a battle. And in a way of thinking, I had.
Owen cried openly, tears slicking down his cheeks and mixing with the sweat, and I was alert enough to lean down and lick him, dragging the hot flat of my tongue from his jawline to the crook of his nose. My entire body hurt, my orgasm still ripping through me as I poured spurt after spurt into the deepest parts of Owen’s body.
One of his fingernails pierced the skin on my arm, and the shock of pain only served to draw another pulse of cum out of my cock.
