"Please, love."
He was sitting against the headboard of your bed, his head tipped back against the solid oak with his cock hard and wet in his hand. His strokes came slower and slower as the seconds ticked by. You could see the sweat coating his hairline and chest, muscles twitching under his skin.
Your moan was soft as you dipped your fingers into your soaked core again, pumping slowly as he watched. "Not uh."
A whine escaped from his throat as hooded eyes followed your every move, flicking across your skin, desperately trying to absorb every inch of you that you weren't allowing him to touch.
You were perched at the foot of the bed, propped up on pillows, legs spread out in front of him. The only contact you shared was where your calves rested over top of his and where the hand not stroking his length tightly grasped your ankle.
"Fuck," he moaned lowly. "Want... want you on me."
His brows were knitted together as he worked his hand over his cock again, wrist twisting over his tip, the nails of his other hand leaving crescent moon indents on your skin.
"Too bad," you moaned as your head tipped back. He moaned with you as your fingers pulled your wetness up to your clit. "Don't you... dare stop," you choked around a gasp.
"Shit," he groaned, picking up his pace to match your fingers. "I'm so close," he whispered, willing his body not to betray him. "Please, touch me."
"Mm-mm," you turned your head towards the pillow in an attempt to hide the pleased smirk pulling at your lips.
"Fuck," he groaned so deep that you knew he wasn't kidding, he was close.
You lifted your head to watch him, his forearm flexing with his strokes and his eyes begging to stay open. You moaned as your fingers circled your clit in a lazy pattern, your core clenching just seeing how hard he was. His mouth fell open with a groan, hips flexing into his hand the tiniest bit.
"Come on, H." Your encouragement was in the soft tone you knew got to him the most. "Make yourself come."
***
