Page 30 of Fallen Rook

I pushed my ass up in his direction. Who knew? Maybe he’d take the invitation and decide to fuck me after all.

Shit. He was still speaking.

Pay attention, Enzo. The best fuck of your life depends on it.

“…you don’t tell anyone about us, even under torture.”

“Jesus, man,” I strangled out, on the verge of humping his hand like a crazed dog. “Fucking a fed wouldn’t be the height of my career, you know? Of course this is a secret.”

He stroked me harder, faster, prodding the slit with his thumb each time he got to the tip. A shudder rippled from the crown of my head all the way down to my toes. My entire body was spasming. No wonder I never got what the big deal about sex was. What I’d experienced wasn’t sex. Hell, this wasn’t technically sex and it was a million times better.

“You don’t ask any questions about my life or penetrate my universe.”

The fact I didn’t make a penetration joke was a testament to how desperate I was to come. “Uh-huh,” I choked out. “Okay.”

“And I’m your first call if you feel like you need to hurt yourself or cut.”

My building orgasm came to a screeching halt. Not this shit again. Why did he always have to dampen the mood?

My spine went rigid, and I clamped my mouth shut.

“Enzo,” he warned.

He stopped pumping, his hand sliding to my balls, stroking the sensitive skin in a place that put me on the edge without actually throwing me over it. My jaw clenched around a moan.

“Fine!” My voice was pure gravel. “Fucking fine.”

“Good boy.” He sucked my ear into his mouth from behind and got back to jacking me off. It didn’t take more than three strokes this time. My body was a buzzing, breathing live wire, sizzling on the edge of heaven, before diving right in.

I exploded into pieces, coming apart underneath him, moaning like we weren’t in broad fucking daylight. My thick cum jetted out in hot spurts, coating Tom’s hand and my damn shirt. I couldn’t stop coming. Every time I thought this was the last spray, another shot ribboned from me, pushing with it a fresh wave of pleasure. Un-fucking-believable.

I collapsed on the grass, taking at least thirty seconds to regulate my breath while my cheek was plastered in the dirt. Then I rolled over to my back and stared at Tom dazedly. He was already up on his feet, unruffled and tailored, licking my cum from his fingers like it was frosting while holding my gaze. His cock was straining against his slacks, the outline of it telling me he was big. Bigger than I was, in fact.

Oh, shit. Why was it so hot?

Wait… How was I hard again?!

This was torture.

I wanted to reciprocate, but also knew that if Tom wanted me to touch him, I’d already be doing it. He was rather particular about everything he did and said.

“I… Uh…” I cleared my throat when I realized how scratchy I sounded. “What are you doing here?”

Of all the stupid questions in my arsenal, this was probably the stupidest.

He offered his open palm silently—the same one he just licked my cum from. I took it, and he jerked me up. My knees still felt like Jell-O.

I looked down at my rumpled clothes as reality slowly kicked in. Every inch of me was caked in dirt, I could practically feel the giant hickey on the side of my neck, and I was pretty sure I’d half come inside my briefs before they were pulled down by Tom.

I tucked myself back in, trying to look at least slightly dignified.

“This has an expiration date.” Tom produced a handkerchief from his gray slacks, handing it to me. “So don’t…”

“Relax, Tomcat. Nobody wants to marry your ass,” I said, snatching the handkerchief and using it to clean up some of the mess.

His gave me a flat, unimpressed stare.

“Which reminds me—I’m engaged, as I’m sure you already know. It’s an open relationship, so don’t worry about the morality aspect of it.” I crumpled the handkerchief and buried it in my front pocket.