Page 63 of Hold Back
After his breakdown in the morning, Ronan’s suggestion of the workout had been appreciated. It had given his body something to do and his brain something else to think about.
But now? Sergeant Patrol had checked every fricking window—again—and was talking to the shouty man in CDR, which left Kit with nothing to do. He didn’t have his phone or his tablet, and the TV was in the main room. There wasn’t even a book in here to read.
He could nap. He was tired after his workout. But he was twenty-three, not eighty-three. Naps were for old people. If he ever crashed out for the afternoon, he’d wear his fluffiest Oodie, gorging on soda, chips and dip, and binge-watching old seasons of Project Runway or tattooists inking elaborate designs on YouTube.
You know, fun!
B.O.R.E.D!
Red had barely spoken two words to him since Mo and Ronan vanished out the door with a “Laters”.
Kit huffed again. Well, if he had nothing else to do, there was always one thing he could play with. He slid one hand down his chest, tweaking a nipple ring on the way, then over his belly. Then he sat up and stripped off his hoodie and T-shirt, and wriggled out of his sweats and underwear. If he was going to enjoy playtime, he might as well do it properly. Kit threw the clothes on the floor, not caring where they fell, and lay down again.
He licked his finger and thumb and played with his right nipple. He followed the path of a merman’s tail around the areola and hummed happily, gasping as he tugged on the ring through his nipple. Since he’d had the rings put in, his nipples were extraordinarily sensitive, and he could come just by playing with the chain. He didn’t have that attached as he’d left it on his nightstand. Kit’s hand stilled as he thought about that. He’d never see that chain again.
Tears filled his eyes and he wiped them away angrily. Dammit, he couldn’t even have a little fun without real life intruding on his fantasy.
Kit lay back again and tugged on the rings more forcefully than he usually did, needing the bite of pain to distract himself. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into the feeling of pleasure. He took his time to relax, tugging on each ring until the nubs were sensitized and he needed more.
Smoothing a hand down his belly, following the line of the cobra, Kit dipped a finger into his belly button, then followed the path of the snake, knowing it so well, he didn’t have to open his eyes to look.
He murmured, “So good.”
It was good. Kit knew just how to pleasure himself. His lips curved into a satisfied smile. His past couple of hook-ups had been more interested in their own pleasure than his. Maybe he should stick to his right hand. It always knew what to do. His fingers grazed the rasp of stubble around his cock, and he sighed as he wrapped his hand around the shaft, running a thumb over the head, then a flick at the Prince Albert.
Kit spread his legs to give himself better access. He cupped his sac, squeezing the two globes gently. He gasped, sensation running through him to his toes. Kit sunk into the pleasure as he jacked off, his hips raising off the bed, in time to his hand. He spread his legs wider to give himself more access and hummed with satisfaction. This wasn’t going to take long. He was so needy.
Kit tugged harder, gasping with each stroke. Harder, faster. Flicking the ball. Oh yeah, exercise was good, but this was just what he needed. He thought of Red’s hand holding him, Red whispering orders in his ear, telling him to hold back, to wait, until he gave permission. His Daddy wouldn’t let him come. Kit grunted, his release there, coiling in the pit of his stomach. So close, so close…his balls tightening…there…spilling frantically over his fist as he humped the bed, disobeying Daddy Red in his head who hadn’t told him to come. He would get a spanking for that, if it were real.
Kit stretched luxuriously. Maybe he was ready for a nap. He opened his eyes, it was time to clean up, and looked at Red, who leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded, his expression resigned, but behind that expression was something else. What was it. Hunger maybe? He stretched again, watching Red’s gaze rake over him.
“Like the show, Daddy?”
He didn’t believe in false modesty, and he didn’t need validation. He knew he looked good and he didn’t mind men taking their fill. Especially men like Red.
“I knocked,” Red said.
Kit shrugged. “I was busy.”
“I can see that. You need to clean up. You’re messy.”
Kit looked down. His belly and chest were covered in his cum. He trailed a finger in the white sticky fluid. “You can clean me,” he suggested brightly, refusing to blush.
Red cocked his head, regarding him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. Kit held his breath. He hadn’t rejected the idea outright. That was a good thing, yes?
“You want me to clean up your mess?”
“Yes.”
But Red didn’t move. He seemed to be waiting for something.
Kit wrinkled his brows. He’d given Red a show and an open invitation to touch him. What more did Red want? Then he huffed. “Please.”
“Please?”
“Please clean me up, Daddy.”
Red grunted. “Better. I expect my boy to be polite.” He vanished from the doorway, presumably heading to the bathroom.
