Page 10 of Puck Tease
He squeezed. Not enough to crush, but enough to hold me in place, to remind me of the invisible leash, to remind me who was in charge.
"Look at me," he snarled, his eyes blazing.
I looked up. His face was a mask of fierce concentration and absolute dominance.
"You're going to thank me," he said.
"What?"
"Thank me. For using you. For not destroying your life. Say it."
He bucked his hips, driving into my hand, a powerful surge.
"Thank you," I gasped, the words ragged.
"Thank you for what?"
"Thank you for... for using me."
"Who am I?"
"The Captain."
"Say it all."
"Thank you for using me, Captain."
Jax groaned, a guttural sound that ripped from his chest, primal and raw. His grip on my throat tightened, a final squeeze. His eyes rolled back into his head.
"Fuck!"
He came.
It was violent, explosive. He bucked hard, pulling my hand down with him in the climax.
Thick, white ropes of semen shot out, hot and heavy. They coated my hand, splashed onto my bare chest, landed in wet, heavy drops on the tile floor.
He shuddered, emptying himself onto me, his body wracked with tremors.
I kept stroking, milking him through the pulses, until he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
"Enough."
He stood there for a moment, chest heaving, recovering. He let go of my throat. He looked down at the sticky mess he’d made, a casual glance.
My hand was completely coated in him. My chest had streaks of white across the muscle. The floor was spattered, each drop stark against the white tile.
I looked down at my own cock. It was raging, an angry red. It dripped pre-cum, aching with a blue-balled pressure that felt like a bruise.
Jax followed my gaze. He saw my erection. He saw the naked need in my eyes.
A slow smirk spread across his lips.
He walked over to the towel rack and grabbed a white hand towel. He wiped himself off, cleaning his cock and his thighs with efficient, uncaring motions.
He didn't offer me the towel.
He tossed the soiled cloth onto the floor, right on top of the jersey I had just licked clean.
