Before the Chase

[Po****]

My gaze followed the movement of his chest as he leaned back, and I hated how quickly my attention settled there.

Immediately, I was drawn to the palm smoothing across the fabric as the shape beneath hardened.

My heart skipped at the grin that played across his face. The look in his eyes wasn’t searching—it was waiting.

A gentle squeeze of his cock pulled my attention back down. His hand continued over the fabric of his boxers in slow strokes, fingers twitching as though resisting the urge to grip harder. The thin material did very little to hide him.

A small moan escaped past my lips at the sight.

He tipped his chin toward the dresser, and I followed the motion to the bottle of lubricant sitting on top. I eagerly retrieved it, returning to find him bare, cock in hand.

My gaze locked onto the rough pumping motion, his wrist rotating with each pass but never rising above the base.

“Go on.” The command hit me like a spark.

I dropped to my knees, intent on worship.

The bottle opened with a pop.

A small groan left him as the cold liquid hit his tip and slid down to where he worked himself.

The lube spilled over his fingers, and I watched, mesmerized, as his hand finally slid upward.

I set the bottle aside and placed my hands on his thighs.

He tsk’ed.

The sharp sound broke my focus.

“Only good girls get to play,” he said.

I swallowed my complaint before it fully formed.

He squeezed his tip in measured intervals, lube and pre-cum spilling out over the top with a lewd squelch. Long strokes followed, making my insides tighten.

My tongue ached to collect the bead gathering at his tip.

The hitch in his breath drew my eyes up—his face caught in something close to rapture before his head tipped back.

My body heated at the cadence of his breathing—at the rise and fall of his chest. I pressed my thighs together, holding still.

A small, pitiful sound escaped me. “Please.”

He looked at me through his lashes, head still thrown back. “Please what?”

A brow lifted at my barely restrained huff of frustration.

I licked my lips. I was straddling a dangerous line.

“Can I please play with your nice thick cock?” The words came out in a low husky tone.

His hand quickened, his hip bucking upward as he pushed himself further.

He hummed under his breath. “And what would you do if I gave you this ‘nice, thick cock’?”

I leaned in, my face inches from him. “I would run my tongue from base to tip, gathering everything there, then take you into my mouth.”

Warm air left me and washed over him. “And as much as I’d love to take you slowly, I’d rather work you with my mouth until I’m gagging and gasping.”

His other hand joined in, even then, he couldn’t fully cover himself, a generous amount of length protruded over the top as he worked himself up.

I ran my hands over his thighs again. This time he let his legs fall slightly open. My fingers stopped at the edge of his groin, brushing along the sensitive skin there.

I waited for permission to go further.

When none came, I said, “I want you to lose control—to pull my hair and hold me there while you feed yourself into my throat.”

His low, rough curse had me positively preening. To see someone so controlled begin to unravel at my words was almost as good as watching him feed me his cock. Almost.

I continued, “I want to be so filled that I can't breathe. I want to feel tears before you even think to pull me up for air.”

His rhythm faltered, becoming more frantic. I reached for the lube and poured more over him.

He rewarded me with a low, hissed, “fuuucck… thank you, baby girl.”

I squeezed his thighs as I moved closer.

“Can I please have a taste?” I asked again, sitting back to look at him through my lashes. “I want to feel you spill down my throat.”

Heat gathered between my legs as I watched him work himself, the veins in his arm protruding with the effort.

When he didn’t stop me, I leaned in—

His hand snapped to my neck before I could take him in between my lips.

He held me there. His grip tightened and loosened, as if it was deciding what it wanted to do next.

A whine slipped from me.

He was so close.

I lolled out my tongue and flicked it against his head.

He shot forward, eyes sharp, and gave a shake to my neck.

“You can never just behave, can you?”

Tongue out, I giggled softly at his words.

He tilted my head back with another gentle shake. “I’m going to mark you with my cum. Replace my hand with your favorite pearl necklace.”

He punctuated his words with a gentle squeeze of my neck.

His lips brushed mine. “I’m going to let go and you're going to sit there and wait like a good girl, or…”

“Or what?” I breathed.

A rakish grin spread across his face. “Or you can run and find out what happens when I catch you.”

His words sank in, cutting through the haze.

He removed his hand and leaned back in his seat.

My eyes flickered between the slow strokes and the sleepy look on his face. The twitching muscles in his neck betrayed the otherwise calm demeanor.

My body tensed, my breathing s***ding up.

Before I could think better of it, I scrambled to my feet and booked it out the door…

[Ir****]

❤️