18
Trevor realizes he is the dessert.
I swallow hard, then meet Benjamin Gage’s eyes—his sharp, scorching eyes.
“D-Dessert?” I whisper.
Slowly, he brings a finger to the collar of my shirt and hooks it inside. Then he gives it a tug, the top button coming undone with surprising ease.
My heart hammers away. My knees quake.
He pops open the next button. Oh God …
“B-Ben …” I whisper.
He ignores me. His other hand comes up, and then the two of them work the rest of my wet shirt off from the top, down. Button by button, I feel it loosen, yet see none of it, my eyes glued to his.
“Ben …”
Still, he says nothing. He watches his own hands as he peels my shirt off, slipping it over either of my shoulders. The cool air of the room kisses my skin, and then the wet fabric falls away.
His fingers slide down my arms slowly, like he’s never seen them before. Every ridge of muscle, the bumps of my elbows, he touches them with curiosity. Then his fingers drift softly inward, their rough tips unhurriedly running along my ribcage until they dance over my chest.
When his fingertips reach my hard nipples, I suck in air.
They’re so sensitive, I squirm under his touch.
I’m so hard right now. My cock is swollen and aching, and it throbs inside my underwear. His hips so close to mine, I feel an automatic pull toward him. I might be humping him, our crotches grinding against one another. The pressure down there builds.
“B-Ben …” I breathe. “Please … W-We … We shouldn’t …”
But I want him to. Badly. I want him to keep touching me. I want his hands everywhere. I want his lips on me next, doing all that his fingertips are doing—and more.
I don’t want him to stop.
And he doesn’t. His hands run down my sides smoothly, palms against my skin, and then he’s pulling my belt open, freeing it from my pants. It hits the floor buckle-first, loud and clanging.
I open my lips to whisper his name in protest once more.
But then his mouth is there instead, shutting me up. When I try to moan a word one last time, his tongue is there to stop me yet again, and then all my desire to protest is gone with my voice.
And our kiss.
Fuck, does Ben know how to kiss.
All that’s left of what I know is twisted tongues, breath, and our wet lips.
And his fingers as they open my pants and pull them down.
Underwear, too.
My cock freed, it swells even more. I gasp, feeling the cold air all over my body. My skin exposed, goosebumps rush across every inch of me. Instinctually, I step out of my pants as he works my mouth muscularly and with power, dominating my face. I kick away my underwear too, desperate to be freed of my clothes and open to him—and to whatever wicked things he plans to do to me.
And I want him to do everything to me.
When my hands come up to his chest, I’m surprised all over again by how built and muscular he is. He is as firm as brick, and his pecs, round and shapely. I grasp the bottom of his shirt and slip my fingers underneath.
I only get a fingertip or two on his skin before he pulls away, our kiss ended in an instant.
Meeting my eyes, he grabs the bottom of his own shirt and, with his big arms crisscrossed, slowly slides it up over his head. And oh boy, does he take his time. His gorgeous abs are revealed to me all over again, one by one, ever slowly, along with his big, statuesque pecs I just a moment ago had in my palms. His body tapers perfectly from his big broad shoulders to his slender waist. He pitches his shirt aside like it means nothing to him, then fixes his smolder on me, his jaw quirked, its muscles flexed tensely.
He looks dangerous in this moment. Deadly. Dark.
And devastatingly hot.
I crumble before him. I can’t believe this is happening.
In one quick motion, he grips the backs of my legs and hoists me up onto the kitchen bar counter, completely naked except for my socks. I gasp as the cold marble surface bites my cheeks. A tall plastic container falls over and rolls off, plummeting to the tile. A stack of papers on my other side are brushed away, too.
He grips the tops of my thighs with his big, powerful hands, then spreads them apart.
My cock points up at his face, desperate, throbbing, a bead of pre-cum on its firm pink tip.
Ben doesn’t even look up at me. I’m just another juicy helping of high-dollar steak to him, an object for his pleasure, a piece of meat.
Saying that about myself has never felt hotter.
Slowly, he moves his mouth to the base of my cock. I watch, desperate to feel him on me, whether it’s his lips or tongue. I yearn for his touch so badly, I fight my instinct to buck my hips upward and force my hard cock into his mouth. I’ve never wanted something more badly than I do this.
He parts his lips at last, sensually, then lays the flat of his tongue on my cock. Taking his time, cruelly, he runs it up the entire length from base to tip.
I groan, driven crazy by his tongue. I cling to the hard counter as best as I can, legs spread, nipples hard, cool air all over my skin. I’m so overwhelmed with sensations, I feel like I’m falling apart.
When he reaches my cockhead, his tongue disappears, and he perks his lips to kiss it tenderly. His lips work with sweet finesse, the way one kisses his lover during a slow dance, the way one tastes the cool water from a drinking fountain, the way one savors the nippled tip of a perfect swirl of ice cream.
Consider dessert served.
He opens his mouth and lets in my cock, inch by inch. I arch my back, overcome with the warm feel of the inside of his wet mouth and tongue as it slides down my cock, swallowing it whole. His mouth is the only warmth I know.
And then he starts to suck it, the pressure building. He pulls back, then swallows it all over again, inch by inch.
The suction makes me crazy. I watch him, my mouth unable to close, my eyes alight and drunk with ecstasy.
Every experience I’ve had with an ex-boyfriend has just been obliterated. In this instant, I realize I’ve never had a blowjob.
Not a proper one. Not like this.
Each time he pulls up and then slides back down my cock, the suction builds. His warm wet lips and slippery tongue work me to a throbbing, aching, desperate edge of imminent explosion.
Yet he keeps his pace torturously slow, twisting up my cock, then slowly easing down, sucking me like the world’s tastiest lollipop, the flavor of which he wants to enjoy every lick of.
All at my tortured, impatient expense.
I can only wait, tighten every muscle in my body, and suffer the agonizing, throbbing enjoyment of it.
Make an end of it already, I beg him through my clenched teeth, through my jagged gasps, through my clinging hands—which have since taken hold of his firm, muscular shoulders at some point that I don’t remember. Let me come and make an end of it, please, please, Ben, please let me come.
His mouth slides right off my cock and then his hand replaces it, stroking me slowly, slippery, and smooth. He looks up at me with wet, glistening lips, a devious smirk twisting them.
“Goddamn, Ben,” I breathe, quivering. “I gotta come. Please. Fuck. I gotta come.”
He rises up from between my wide-open thighs, his muscular form towering over me even as I’m on the counter. Light spilling in from the dining room catches every ridge of his muscles, giving a glow to his six-pack and the sides of his pecs. His biceps shine spectacularly as they flex with his every slow pump of my dick.
He opens those wet lips of his. “I’ve only just begun, boy.”
Then his pace picks up. I gasp, clinging to the back of the countertop as he races me right back to the edge. Already, I’m seconds from my point of no return.
“Look at me.”
I bring my gaze back to his, locked on, unblinking, gasping for breath as he pumps me relentlessly.
I’m so looking at him.
“Ask me for permission,” he demands.
There’s something about a hot man like Benjamin Gage with my dick in his grip that makes a somewhat meek and clueless guy like me totally submissive and desperate to obey him. It’s beyond the boss-intern thing, really. I want to serve him. I want to feel beneath him somehow. I want to feel used, teased, and taken full advantage of.
I have been my own insufferable boss every moment of my life since my days of rigorous studying and zero straying from the perfect, faultless path. Now I’m desperate—and long overdue—to let go of that control and submit, for once, to someone else’s whim instead of always my own.
I want to be Benjamin Gage’s toy—his only toy.
“Please let me come,” I beg.
“Again.” His gaze is dark and wicked. He wants to torment me. He wants me to be all his. He enjoys being totally in control.
“Please,” I beg again. “Please let me come. I’m so close.”
“Not yet,” he states, drawing his lips closer to me. “Not. Yet.” His whispered words crash over my face in two hot breaths. “Hold out for me, Trevor.”
Then he takes my mouth with his. Unable to protest anymore with words, I simply moan against him, my legs tightening as I struggle to keep from coming. I bring a hand up to the back of his head and cling to him as we kiss. Our lips gain strength, our breath growing more out of control.
“Please,” I whimper against his lips as we kiss. “Please …”
“Say my name,” he breathes against me.
“Ben.” The name comes out in a jagged whisper and at once, without hesitation. “Ben.” It gives me such power, such pleasure, such pride to say his name. “Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben—”
“Trevor.”
I feel everything inside me squeeze with my release, and then I come so hard, I feel spots of warm wetness hit my chin and chest while our lips lock, feverish and animal.
Good Lord, it’s endless. All of the absurd tension I’d felt between us releases with this powerful, explosive orgasm. I melt against his muscular chest, kissing him as I come, ignoring the wet mess I’ve shamelessly made between our bodies.
And he keeps kissing me, but gentler now. His lips tease and caress mine, softer and softer, until he finally pulls away and looks into my eyes searchingly.
I can’t fight the smile that spills across my face, drunk with chemicals chasing their way through my body. “W-Wow …”
He grins. “Wow? Is that all you got for me?”
I peer over his shoulder. With a lift of my eyebrows, I realize we’re no longer alone. Lance, his dog, sits at the foot of the spiral staircase. He stares back at me with half-lidded eyes, unimpressed.
I put my lips to Ben’s ear. “Your dog’s watching us.”