Page 7 of Point Proven
He obliged, legs parting for me as his golden irises met mine. His throat bobbed once, and that’s when his mask dropped, his submissiveness rolling forward like a wave.
Hovering over his frame, my hand pressed against the cold leather as I angled myself at his entrance. Pressing my crown against him, I glanced at those honeyed eyes before leaning over to spit where I made contact with his skin.
Saliva dripped over his hole and my length, the sight only spurring me on as I used that wetness to glide myself in. Inch by inch, I entered him, taking my time. There was nothing I enjoyed more than watching his eyes roll back as pleasure took over his senses.
Lips parting for a breath, a moan joined in. “S-Shit…Fuck,dove.”
Grunting, I rolled my hips forward and completely buried myself. “God, no matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so tight.”
His legs curled around me, arms wasting no time to loop around my neck. Kissing up my jawline, another sharpened exhale tumbled from him as I thrust into him again.
“God, you feel so fucking good. Fuck.”
Finding my rhythm, I rammed into him mercilessly as I straightened, switching my hand from the couch to his throat. Squeezing, I used it as my perch as I bucked my hips.
His hands slipped, greeting my bare back. Digging his nails into my flesh, he arched for me—a clear giveaway of his climb toward euphoria. It only made me tighten my hold, riding that bliss with every intention of stealing the oxygen from his lungs.
“I want your marks,Graves. I want to be coated in crimson while I devour all that dominance you display toward others. But here? You know you’remine.”
A strangled grunt followed my statement. Lids fluttering, he struggled to hold my gaze, his blown-out pupils barely noticeable beneath his dark lashes. Beginning his exploration, he dragged his fingers across my skin, his grip intensifying as he carved through the first few layers.
Hissing at the intensifying pain, I responded with an angled thrust I knew would press against his prostate. My other hand curled around his hardened length, pumping roughly to elicit another muffled noise of desperation.
“Fuck,” he rasped, hips bucking to chase my touch.
“Look at you matching my pace while you dirty my hand.”
Stopping at the tip, I pulled on his piercing withjustthe right amount of force I knew would have him panting. His whimper served as my sign of approval, pre-cum trickling across my fingertips.
It was a sound of pain, but I knew him too well—hecravedit, just like he indulged in the dominance I subdued him with.
Stroking his shaft once more, a blur of orange blocked my view of Thorne. Barking menacingly, he sat on Thorne’s chest in a protective stance, and I hadneverwanted to punt a dog more in my life.
“Prince! Goddamn it, get down!”
Laughter echoed from behind the non-threatening loaf, Thorne snorting over the interruption of our heated moment. “Oh my fucking God. This is fucking hilarious.”
“Hilarious? He’s literally cock blocking me. Adog!”
“You’re hurting me,” he teased. “He’s doing his job,Daddy.”
Slowly unwrapping my fingers from his cock, I wiggled them at Prince. “Look,Thorneis fine. Not hurt, so find a bone to play with, Princey Prince. If you do, I’ll give you a treat.”
His little ears raised, pink tongue darting out as he panted in delight. Standing on all four paws, his tail swished against Thorne’s face, who groaned. “Prince, this isn’t the asshole I want near my face.”
It was my turn to laugh as I watched the altercation for a few more seconds before lightly tapping him on the butt. He jumped, landing on the blanket before scurrying to the kitchen. At least the dumb dog was smart enough to know where to wait for it.
“Okay, so back to?—”
And then he started barking.
“Oh. My.God.”
“You saidtreat,” Thorne prompted, waving over his shoulder and the back of the couch. “Surprisingly enough, your dumbass dog seems to know that word very?—”
Another bark.
Mercy.
