Page 96 of Disarm
“Look at you,” Miguel murmurs, his own hand moving slowly, teasingly, over his shaft on the screen. “So fucking pretty when you’re desperate for it. You’re already leaking, aren’t you, baby?”
Wetness slicks my palm as I stroke myself, falling into his lazy rhythm. “Yeah,” I breathe out. “God, Miggy, I want you to fuck me so bad.”
“Yeah? You want this dick splitting you open on that cheap hotel bed?” He says it, and my toes curl. “I’d bend you over the edge of it, pull your hips back, spit on that tight little hole of yours and just shove my way in. And you’d just take it.”
My hand speeds up, my grip tightening. “Please,” I whimper. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing,” he growls. The camera shakes as he adjusts it, angling it down so I can see his heavy balls and the way his fist works his cock from base to tip. “I’d fuck you so hard the headboard would beat against the wall. I’d make you scream my name so loud that everyone on the team hears who you belong to.”
The image in my head is so vivid it’s almost real. The phantom burn of him stretching me. His weight pinning me down. I pull my underwear down further, kicking them off so I’m completely exposed to him.
“Fuck, look at that,” he groans. “Spread your legs wider. Let me see that tight hole.”
I do, taking a pillow and propping the phone up and hooking one knee up to give him the view he wants. My free hand drifts down, fingers tracing behind my balls before circling my entrance.
“Yeah, right there,” he directs, his own strokes getting faster and more erratic. “Push one in for me. Pretend it’s my finger getting you ready.”
I moan as I sink a precum-slicked finger inside me. It’s not enough, it’s nowhere near as good as him doing it.
“Another one,” he commands. “Stretch yourself open for me. I wanna see how greedy you are for my cock.”
I add a second finger, scissoring them, and my back arches off the bed. “Miguel… I’m close.” My eyes roll. “Fuck,” I whimper.
“Not yet,” he barks. “You don’t come until I say so. You see how hard I am for you? This is what you do to me. I’m gonna paint your tight ass with my cum and mark you up so you smell like me. Make sure not a single person touches what’s mine.”
My hand is a blur on my dick, my fingers pumping into my ass.
“Please,” I beg, my voice cracking. “Please, let me come. I need it.”
“Come on then, pretty boy,” he groans, and the sound of his own release is a wet, frantic slap of skin on skin. “Come for me. Let me see you make a mess all over those perfect abs of yours.”
My whole body locks up, a ragged cry tearing from my throat as I spill all over my stomach and chest. Wave after wave hits, sharp enough to blur everything else.
I lie there panting and boneless. On the screen, Miguel is slumped back, his chest gleaming with sweat and cum, his softening cock resting on his thigh. He brings the phone back to his face, and his eyes are soft, sated.
“Fuck,” he says, a lazy, satisfied smile spreading across his face. “You look good enough to eat.”
I laugh, a breathless, happy sound. “Next time, you need to be here to just fuck me.”
He winks. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
With the phone propped up on the nightstand now angled so I can see him. Miguel looks wrecked in the best way—hair raked back, eyes soft and heavy-lidded. “You still with me, baby?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. My limbs feel like they’ve been replaced with warm sand. “Still here.”
“Good,” he murmurs. “Proud of you.”
I roll my eyes weakly. “You’re proud of me for jerking off, that’s a low bar, Miggy.”
“I’m proud of you for letting me be here with you,” he corrects. “That’s different.”
My throat tightens. “I love you,” I say, because it’s easier to say when my defenses are this low. When the world feels soft and muzzy instead of sharp.
He smiles, small and real. “I love you too. Now go shower before that dries and you stick to the sheets like a horror movie.”
I groan and drag myself upright. “You’re so romantic.”
“You knew what this was,” he says, smirking. “That quick nut to relax you enough to fall asleep.”
