Page 9 of Ransom
"Take your time," he said. "I ain't in no hurry."
I was. I stripped everything off faster than I'd ever undressed in my life and wound up standing there naked except for a dead man's boots. My cock was hard and sticking straight out while Ransom stayed fully dressed, hat on the table, boots on his feet, watching me like he'd paid for the show.
He smirked and let out a low whistle. "Hot for a lawman."
"I get that a lot," I said, which was a lie, but I was not going to let him have that completely.
I went to my knees and yanked him closer by the belt loops.
His belt buckle was cold under my fingers. I worked it open, got his jeans down his hips, and pulled Ransom's cock out. He was hard and thick, and my mouth watered at the sight of it, which had never happened to me before. I leaned in.
Two fingers came under my chin, tilting my head up, stopping me an inch from where I wanted to be.
"Eyes on me while you do it, Ranger."
"Yes, sir," I said, and locked eyes with him as I took him into my mouth.
Salt and bitter heat flooded my tongue. The specific weight of him was pleasant, one of my favorite things about men. With him it was better. He was thick enough that my jaw ached from the first push. I breathed through it, took more, and let him hit the back of my throat. He tipped his head back and let out a groan that sounded hungry and relieved at the same time. Myown cock throbbed untouched between my thighs and I thought:I would do anything to hear that again.
I worked him slow, tongue along the underside, pressure at the head, learning what got me that sound and doing it again until his hand found my hair and tightened.
"So pretty on your knees," he said, low. "Look at you." His fist shifted and tilted my head back so he could see my face. I held his eyes and kept working, and his gaze was a second hand on my skin. "Look how hard you are." He looked at my cock, heavy and neglected and leaking against my thigh. "You want to come?"
I made a sound around him that was probably an answer.
"Beg me for it."
I pulled off enough to talk. "Please." I sounded wrecked, which was fair. "Please, Ransom."
"Yeah." His fist tightened. "Fuck yeah, just like that. Now slow down. Suck the head." I did, and he dropped his head back and swallowed. "Fuck." He breathed through it. "Fuck." He guided me back down and then off completely, tilting my face up. His chest heaved, and he said: "Come on my boot. Right now. Do it."
I wrapped my hand around myself and started stroking. I don't know why. Normally, I preferred to be in the driver's seat. The idea of a man telling me what to do and how to do it generally didn't sit well under my skin, but when Ransom gave me an order, it was like it bypassed all the rational parts of my brain and went straight to the animal part of me.
"Open," he ordered, and I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue so he could feed me his cock while I worked myself. "Go on then. Give me what I came for, Ranger, and I'll give you what you want."
I started stroking myself faster, harder, letting the pressure build until the point of no return was inevitable. When it happened, I was so caught up in enjoying the moment that Ialmost forgot and scrambled to aim for his boots. I came hard, shaking, striped across the toe of Ransom's left boot with my forehead pressed against his thigh and a sound coming out of me I had never made in my life.
He pulled out of my mouth with his hand already moving, and I stayed where he put me, on my knees, chest heaving.
His head went back. His jaw locked. His whole body shuddered through it and he striped my face, the floor, the toe of his own boot. He shot hot and wet across my cheek, my mouth, my chin, and I held still and took it like a baptism.
He stood there with his chest heaving and his eyes closed, his hand still loose around himself. I waited on my knees in a dead man's boots with his cum on my face.
He opened his eyes and looked down at me. "Good. Now, lick me clean," he said, low and even, like he had all the time in the world. "Cock first. Then the boot. Put me away when you're done. Like a good boy."
The words went through me like a current from the base of my spine to the back of my skull.
I took him back into my mouth first, soft now, and cleaned him slowly, tasting salt and the last of him. He stood still and let me do it with one hand loose in my hair. I worked my way down, base to tip, thoroughly, and when I was done, I pressed my lips to the head once, just once, I don't know why. I tucked him back into his jeans, did up his buttons, and smoothed the denim down with both hands like I was folding something that mattered.
Then I bent to the boot.
I told myself on the way down that I wasn't really going to do it. That was a lie. I'd known the moment he gave the order that I was going to obey. I licked Ransom's cum off his boot because I wanted to. The wanting had come up from somewhere I didn't keep things and had not consulted me first.
All of it. Slow. Dust and rain and him.
I sat back on my heels when I was done, feeling oddly proud of myself. My face was wet, my knees ached, and my heart was still beating too fast.
Ransom's hand came down on the back of my head and stayed.
