The response was harder, faster strokes. I didn’t know what made me dizzier—my impending orgasm, or the sheer willpower it was taking to keep from letting go.
“Close your eyes,” Devon ordered.
I did.
“Now you’re going to count backwards from ten. Out loud.”
Oh, fuck. He thought I could still count? Never mind backwards? While he was jerking meoff?
“Do it,” he ordered. “And when you get to one, I want you to come.”
I almost did right then and there. I was so keyed up, so ready to unload all over his hand, the words “I want you to come” were nearly all that registered.
But I nodded and managed to pant, “Yes, Sir.”
“Start counting.”
I took a second to find my breath. Then, “Ten. Nine.”
Devon’s other hand started teasing my balls.
“Eight. Seven.” Fuck. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. “Six.”
That hand moved to my dick, and he worked me with both hands, one focusing on the head while the other pumped the shaft.
“F-five.”
“Good boy,” he whispered. “Almost there. You’realmostthere.”
“F-fuuuck.Four.” I was almost there, dammit, and he was killing me. “Three.”
“That’s it, Jack. So close.”
“T-two.”
I was shaking all over, straining against the terrycloth belt and arching off the bed as the whole room spun around me.
All I had to do was say that final number, and I could come.
And in the same instant, I took in a breath to grit it out, the hand on the head of my cock was gone, replaced by wet heat, and I cried out “One!” as I came in Devon’s mouth. My hips bucked and my back arched, and I shouted God only knew what as he kept me going until there wasn’t a drop left.
As I settled back on the bed, I stared down at him, watching in wonder as he sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
He grinned. “I have every intention of coming in yourmouth. What’s good for the goose…” He trailed off into a shrug, grinning like the devil himself.
I laughed drunkenly. “Fucking hell, you’re amazing, Sir.”
He just chuckled. Then he leaned down to kiss me before getting off the bed. And as I lay there, utterly wrung out and trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm, he stripped out of his clothes. The sight of his hard dick made my mouth water; I barely registered the habitual fear about still being tied.
If any other man were to straddle my chest the way he was doing now…
If any other man were to reiterate his order to keep my hands above my head…
But it wasn’t any other man. It was Devon. And here I was, lying back obediently and gratefully, watching him stroke himself just inches from my mouth.
Bracing his free hand on top of the headboard, he gazed down at me. “Is this all right? Fucking your mouth while you’re on your back and tied?”
I loved that he checked in. That he kept checking in.