Page 140 of Reckless Obsession

I’m breathing hard, and every nerve ending feels as if it’s on fire. There’s no fight left in me, not that I want any. I’m letting him have me. Completely. Willingly. The way I always do when it’s him.

Tristan leans down again, mouth trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down my abdomen, tongue dipping into my navel before moving lower. Every kiss, every touch feels like fire and worship all at once. My hands fist the sheets, hips twitching as I fight the urge to beg him to just take me already.

Then, without warning, his hands grip my hips and drag me down the bed until my ass hangs right at the edge of the mattress. The sheets drag against my skin, and my cock bobs heavily against my stomach, already leaking a steady string of precum.

“Legs up,” he orders, voice low and rough. “Hold them open for me.”

I obey without thinking, pulling my knees to my chest and locking my arms around the backs of my thighs so I’m spread wide and completely exposed. The position leaves nothing to the imagination—my hole, my aching cock, the silver piercing glinting at the tip. Heat floods my face, but I don’t look away. I want him to see every desperate, needy part of me.

“That’s it,” he praises, dragging a thumb over my hole and watching it twitch. “Such a good boy. Do not take your hands away from your thigh until I say so.”

Then he grabs my cock and leans down.

The first swipe of his tongue over the head of my cock makes me jolt. He licks a slow circle around the tip, catching the precum beading there, then teases my piercing with the flat of his tongue. I gasp, thighs trembling in my own hold.

“Fuck, Tristan—”

“Shhh,” he murmurs against me, breath hot. “Just feel it.”

Then he opens his mouth and sinks down in one long, wet slide, taking me until I feel the tight heat of his throat. The sensation is overwhelming, scorching and perfect.

“Oh god.” I gasp as my head falls back.

He’s never put his mouth on me like this before, and the knowledge makes my eyes burn. A broken moan tears from my throat as he starts sucking, slow and deep, cheeks hollowing, tongue working the underside while the metal of my piercing clicks softly against his teeth.

The wet sounds are filthy, obscene, filling the quiet room. My hips twitch, but he holds me steady with one strong hand on my thigh.

Then he pulls off with a wet pop and dives lower, giving my balls the same attention, and making my eyes roll in pleasure because fuck his mouth feels so good.

When his tongue finds my hole, I nearly sob. He licks a broad, firm stripe over the tight ring of muscle, circling it, pressing against it, tasting me like he’s been starving for it and at the same time his hands are around my cock tightly, stroking it as if he’s trying to cast a spell out of me. Every sensation makes my vision blur and leaves my body trembling.

He doesn’t rush. He alternates with agonizing patience. One moment he’s swallowing my cock again, sucking deep and slow; the next he’s buried between my ass, tongue fucking into me in shallow, deliberate strokes that leave me gasping. Every switch leaves me more wrecked, more desperate. My arms shake from the effort of holding myself open, but I don’t dare let go. I want him to have every part of me.

When he finally presses two slick fingers inside me while his mouth sinks back down around my cock, the dual friction is devastating.

The stretch burns just enough to intensify the pleasure. He curls his fingers immediately, finding my prostate and white-hot sparks explode behind my eyes, then he starts thrusting in time with the wet, rhythmic glide of his mouth.

My body bows off the bed. A continuous, broken moan spills from my lips as pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my gut. I’m reduced to gasping his name and begging, hips rocking between his mouth and his fingers, chasing more of both.

“Tristan…please I can’t—”

Tears gather at the corners of my eyes from the intensity. Every nerve ending is alight and screaming. I’m completely at his mercy, and I’ve never felt more alive.

“That’s it, spitfire,” Tristan growls around my cock, the vibration shooting straight through me. “Take it. Let me ruin this pretty hole and this pretty cock at the same time.”

Then his movement starts going faster, tongue working the underside of my cock while his fingers curl inside me with devastating precision. Every wet pull, every press against that sensitive place makes my body tremble. The pleasure builds in long, rolling waves until I can’t hold it back anymore.

“Fuck, I’m close,” I gasp. “I’m gonna come.”

“Give it to me,” he murmurs against my cock, voice thick with hunger. “Come in my mouth, baby. Let me taste how much you need me.”

The words undo me.

I shatter with a broken, almost silent cry, back arching as thick ropes of cum spill down his throat. Tristan doesn’t pull away. He stays there, swallowing every pulse, still gently curling his fingers, drawing the orgasm out until I’m shaking and whimpering from the intensity.

I barely have time to catch my breath before Tristan is moving.

He rises, shoves his pants down just enough, his hard cock already leaking so much precum. He spits into his hands and coats his dick with it, then presses the thick head of his cock against my entrance, pushing inside me in one long, relentless thrust, not even giving me the time to recover from my orgasm.