Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Until that pressure on his throat eased, and he sucked in heaving breaths, opening his eyes dazedly—and clenching his teeth, as Amani’s grip on his cock tightened, grasping at that perfect point of too much to hurt in just the right way, something Vic could never stand to do to himself for too long even thought it felt so, so fucking good. But he had no control over Amani, and Amani held tight, held fast, circling his cock-head with the tip of his thumb, pushing him toward that point of too much, too much, lancing bolts of sensitivity tugging deep inside, and he keened in the back of his throat.
Stop—stop, it hurts—
He fought himself, fought the clenching of his fingers, the urge to push Amani’s hands away, his safe word on the tip of his tongue, he wanted it to stop but he didn’t, he needed it but he couldn’t stand it, he tossed his head back and jerked his shoulders and almost, almost—
His vision exploded white-hot against the backs of his eyelids as Amani added just that extra ounce of pressure to push the pain to searing, ripping levels.
And Vic nearly came, only the sheer shock of it holding him back.
That tormenting grip relaxed, easing that agony to leave his cock throbbing in pounding pulses; he sank against the bed, struggling for breath, opening his eyes to look up at Amani dazedly. “What was…wh-what was that?”
“Edging. A little pain play.” Amani caressed over his stomach, soothing and silky, flattening his palm over the contours of his abdomen. “Was it too much?”
“Yes. No. I…fuck. It hurt like hell, but fuck I couldn’t…I’d have stopped if I was doing it to myself, but I wanted you to keep…”
Amani’s eyes drifted, heavy-lidded, up to Vic’s clenched fists. “You could have stopped me.”
Vic swallowed. And he knew exactly what he was admitting when he said, “I know.”
“Well then.” Amani’s body arched into a supple, inviting curve as he peeled his caftan over his head, and threw it aside. His trousers followed, leaving only a pair of enticingly tight, low-slung bikini-cut briefs that clung to narrowly curving hips and a tight ass, before they flung aside to leave Amani naked, glorious, this thing of smooth dark silk wreathed only in his wild dark hair, slender grace and angular ridges. His nipples stood dark and peaked against his flat, smooth chest, and his cock rested hot against the concave slope of his belly, hard and dewed wet at the tip.
He ran his tongue over his lips, sinking down to straddle Vic’s waist, skin to skin and the suggestive spreading of thighs. “Do you want to touch me, Victor?”
Victor’s breaths dried in his throat, and he nodded. “Yes. Yes.”
“You can’t,” Amani said…and then used that body to drive Vic out of his senses.
He rose to his hands and knees over Vic, descending on him in a kiss that consumed him and left him dizzy with the feeling of being explored, invaded, as Amani toyed with his mouth with a lascivious sensuality until being kissed felt like being used and taken and fucked, and Vic curled his toes against the sheets, growling, struggling, his arms aching as he jerked against his own restraint, fighting not to just grasp on to this maddening vixen and tumble him down and take him. Especially when Amani sank down until their cocks dragged together, grinding and working against him until Amani’s erotic, breathy gasps were a part of every kiss, melting with Vic’s groans, leaving him dizzy, head swimming as his pulse pounded and everything sank away into nothing but the sensation of hot skin against him and the pressure of Amani’s weight.
And when Amani pulled back, a damp slick sound parting their lips with a last flick of tongue to tongue, leaving his mouth feeling hot and sore and bruised…Vic almost broke. Almost reached for him. He should be humiliated, like this—humiliated, emasculated, letting this slim little thing play him like this…and yet every time he fought his self-imposed bonds only to give in and stay, bound if only by his Master’s will, a deep flush of pleasure rolled through him, stoking hotter and hotter every time. And he held his tongue, struggled to rein himself in, watching dazedly as Amani sat back to straddle him and reached over for something in the folds of his discarded caftan.
What emerged was a clear slick bottle of lube—and it fell in suggestive, dripping runnels over Amani’s fingers as he tipped it over his hand, coating it thoroughly.
“Don’t take your eyes off me, pet,” he murmured…then slipped a hand behind himself, worked his fingers, and suddenly arched his back in a sharp snap, lifting up with a sensual, breathlessly wild little cry, and Vic realized he was fingering himself, watching transfixed as Amani thrust again and again, his body rocking hard, cock grinding and stroking in damp-slick velvety pressure against Vic’s, and he was dripping, spilling, so close to coming but he couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t Amani hadn’t said, he wasn’t allowed, wasn’t allowed…