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My hands slide into his hair as I rock into him. Just once, but it’s enough to set my skin aflame.
Coop gasps once more, holding me against him. And with a strength I didn’t know he possessed, he rolls us over, his legs now straddling mine.
My fingers hook into the strip of lace on his chest and I pull him down. Closer. I need him closer. I want him to melt into me. I want him to bury his body inside of mine and never leave.
He grinds against me and an unbidden moan escapes my mouth. I’m not used to all these hard planes and muscles pressed against me, but I find that I don’t mind it. Not as much as I should.
“Fuck, you feel good,” Coop says as I feel his dick press against mine, both hard and throbbing. “And you look hot as fuck.”
I swallow, pulling him further into me, burying my face against his throat and breathing in the scent of him as our hips shift against each other. It’s a slow crawl to bliss, and yet I find myself not rushing it. Not at all. I’m just enjoying the feel of him on top of me, writhing and rutting against my body.
His lips are brushing against my neck, and I feel the pull of my skin between his teeth. He’s marking me, and I don’t stop him.
I let him do what he wants.
My ankles cross behind his back and his thrusts become more prominent. Like he’s fucking into me.
With a pop, his mouth detaches from my neck and he lifts his upper body up, his beautiful eyes staring down at me.
“We should stop,” he breathes, even as he continues to thrust against me.
“We should,” I say, noting how flushed his cheeks are. I’m sure mine are the same. My entire body is on fire.
“Oh fuck,” Coop mutters and then he rolls off of me, adjusting his hard, leaking dick with his hands.
And I’m left lying on the bed, completely forlorn.
Why did he stop? I was mostly kidding.
Kind of.
“We shouldn’t do that,” he pants, and I turn my head to stare at him. It’s either that or look at my angry dick. It wants to hold a rebellion.
It wanted to finish this little rut session with Coop but was denied. Most cruelly.
“Yeah, probably a good idea,” I croak out.
“You’re not gay, and I wouldn’t want to make you do something you’d regret.”
“Right,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t regret it. In this moment, the only thing I’m regretting is not coming. I’m pretty sure my balls are going to fall off.
“Okay, right,” Coop says, running a hand over his face. “I’m going to change.”
He hops off the bed, and I watch him go to the closet, his ass jiggling as he moves, and I reach down past the lace of my panties and give my cock a good tug.
Well, fuck him. If he doesn’t want to get me off, I can do it myself. I should probably go to my room and do this in private, but a part of me wants to taunt him with what he’s missing out on. I’ve gone through a few of the stages of grief and have now settled on anger.
Fuck him.
Turning me down.
I pull my dick and balls all the way out, the lace stretched out over my thighs as I pump my cock in my hand, my bottom lip pulled between my teeth, trying to keep the grunts at bay.
But it’s difficult. I’m so turned on, so needy that I can feel my orgasm rush up to meet me.
I thrust my hips up and fuck into my fist, and when Coop appears back in the bedroom, fully clothed, he freezes. His pupils are blown out, his chest heaving as he watches me jack myself. And I give him quite the show. I slow my strokes and draw it out.
If he didn’t want to come with me, then the least he can do is watch while I get off.
