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No he wouldn’t tell me? Or no he didnotfuck around with Ivan? As much as it irritated me to not know, I wasn’t going to ask for clarification.
“Do not speak to him again. Is that understood?”
Roan’s teeth clenched, his mouth pressing into a hard line. It didn’t look right on him. He should have been smiling, or at least smirking. Not glaring at me like I was the devil himself.
Somewhere along the way, I ended up with most of my torso against his, the rise and fall of our chests mirroring one another. I was suddenly aware of the fact his cock was not only hard, but it was pressing against mine. I didn’t even know whenIgot hard, but I was. He felt it too, because his mouth softened and the muscles in his neck relaxed beneath my fingers.
His hips shifted, adding more pressure, more friction. It could have been him trying to find relief from my weight on top of him, or he was purposely antagonizing me. Given his past history, I opted for the latter.
I reached between us and grabbed ahold of him through his sweatpants. God, he wassohard. “What did I say about this?”
He didn’t answer, just licked his lips and pressed his hips up against my hand, like he was calling my bluff. He should have learned by now not to do that.
Slipping my hand beneath the waist band, I gripped his cock tightly, watching him exhale and squeeze his eyes shut. Using his own pre-cum to add slip to my hand, I jacked him off in long, hard stokes. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I wanted to memorize every expression he made, every time he gasped or sighed, the way his whole body tightened beneath me.
I wanted to remember it all, because it would never happen again. He could consider this a return favor for the blowjob — somethingelsethat would never happen again. After this, we were square.
His hand slid up the arm I was bracing on, following the curve of my tricep and slipping beneath the sleeve of my t-shirt to grip my shoulder. Raking his teeth over his lower lip, he groaned and rolled his hips, thrusting up into my grip while his other hand skimmed across his bare chest to toy with his nipple.
“Sasha…” The way he said my name, that breathy sigh… it was so hot. So… wrong. He didn’t seem to care. Digging his fingers into my shoulder, it was like he was trying to pull me closer. Or he was fighting an orgasm.
“Look at me.” The command came out as a growl, one he immediately obeyed. His lashes parted, revealing the depths of his eyes. Up close, in this light, they were a vibrant cornflower blue. I’d never seen anything like it before and doubted I ever would again. But more than that, he had the same carnal look in his eyes as the day before yesterday when he was on his knees, licking every inch of my cock like it was the greatest thing ever.
“I’m so close,” he whispered, holding my gaze, his breathing ragged.
“Come for me.”
“Oh God…” He kept his eyes on me until they rolled back in his head.
His whole body shuddered, ropes of cum shooting out of his cock, coating his abdomen. I gave another couple of slow strokes, making sure to wring every bit of his orgasm out of him. There was some on my hand, but he wore the majority of it on his flat stomach. Without even thinking, I licked it off my knuckle. A strangled moan sounded in the back of his throat. He swore softly, his eyes half-hooded as he watched me.
Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
Pushing away from him quickly, I retrieved a napkin from the takeout bag and wiped off whatever was left on my hand.
Roan propped himself up on his elbows, watching me with those bedroom eyes. Lips parted, he was still panting, but not talking. Why wasn’t he fucking talking?
Oh my God...
I didn’t spare him a backward glance as I made my way toward the stairs as fast as I could. Taking them two at a time, I didn’t breathe until I reached the top.
What the fuck did I just do?!
25
Roan
What the…?
The way Sasha hauled ass out of the basement, you’d think he was late to a meeting with Putin himself. Meanwhile, I laid there in a state of shock, unable to move or form a coherent thought.
When it was pretty clear he wasn’t coming back, I sat up and surveyed the mess in front of me. There went dinner and I was fucking starving. In his pissiness, he sent my fried rice everywhere and Ivan had taken the other carton.
WhywasSasha so pissy, anyway? He looked like he was going to rip Ivan’s head off when he came downstairs. And he wanted — no, demanded — I look at him while he asked about the guy. What did he even mean by any of that? Just because I sucked his dick, he thought I was suddenly doling out BJs to all of my kidnappers? Even if I was, why the fuck didhecare?
Shuffling over to the paper bag, I grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped my abs off.
I called his bluff about the whole hard-on thing, and he delivered. By God, did he deliver. Never in a million years did I think he’d go through with it. I thought for sure he was going to knock me out again, not give me a hand job.
