Hotline Fling

51: Your Turn

Juneau's POV

Ten minutes after Damian walked Bullet and more convincing from me than I expected, he was a hot, naked, squirming mess.

"Stop moving." I nuzzled my nose into the fine, sparse hairs on his left thigh.

"I'm not so sure about this." He clenched his toes. "Can I buy you another plant?"

"No." I teased the tip of his cock with a gentle pinch between the pads of my fingers, teasing the arousal contrasting the sheer panic filling his eyes. "Your dick is poking in your stomach."

"Because you're between my legs, June–" He swallowed the rest of that sentence in a low groan, approving of my hand's caress of his hardness. I pressed a trail of kisses up his thigh, which, like the rest of him, was bare-ass naked, exposed, and splayed open on his kitchen island.

"I c-can't believe you–oop, no, no." He flinched again as if I electrocuted him, not grazing my teeth over his tip. "I can't, June–"

"Relax." I caressed his tensed quads with my palms, rubbing suggestive circles with my thumbs on his inner thighs. They were tight enough to crush a watermelon."I won't bite unless you want me to."

"Biting is what I'm worried about," he admitted with a nervous chuckle.

"You say that like you didn't get hard from watching me eat the hole larger for a proper fit." I brushed my nose down the rock-hard shaft, following as light of kisses as I could press. A flick of my tongue to tease clamped his thighs around my ears.

"Nope, nope, June." Veins raised on Damian's neck, and his thighs trapped my ears again. My thundering pulse pumped my ears with pressure, the rush throbbing in my forehead. "I swear, icing's dripping down on my balls."

His exaggerated response only encouraged me further. I extended my tongue, dragging it over the warm, pink skin between his sacs. The dimpled skin twitched, radiating with the same heat stirring in me. His warmth and masculine scent were as addictive as his red, flushed skin.

My body glowed with eagerness not to please, but to bring him beyond satisfaction. I wanted him heightened into the messy, desperate euphoria he bestowed on me and entangled in the conflict between never wanting the pleasure to cease and desperately chasing relief from it not once but twice.

"Then I'll lick it off." His warmth and scent welcomed my nose as I nuzzled it deeper, licked, and sucked on his puckered skin until my mouth closed around the firm warmth, and I slipped it gently into my mouth. By the number of spastic shudders that ran through Damian, he looked like I'd electrocuted him.

"Fuck, if I'd known you'd do that, I would have smeared it on–Fuck, June," he cursed and squeezed his eyes shut at my gentle sucks. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed the man was in labor by how red-faced and tensed his face looked. He flung his head back, a groan rolling through his throat.

With a slight release of his sac from my mouth, I smirked at his grip on the counters. His knuckles were ready to burst through his skin. "Do I need to handcuff you?"

"I'll sit still. It's just–fuck!" He cursed as I traced the upward path of the bulging vein, humming at this taste filling my mouth. I wanted it imprinted on all my tastebuds and coating my tongue in a stamp of reassurance of how I affected him. Silly food play aside, I wanted him pushed to that brink as he pushed me to mine.

One of my hands stayed below, continuing with steady, rolling pressure from my palm. I licked and nibbled a path past neatly trimmed hair and my 'adornment' around his dick. With a tongue flick, I teased the plush, red tip and steadied him with my other hand. "Think of it like a cock ring."