Page 222 of Fatality

His smile widens, knowing I won't submit that easily.

“Very well,” he sits on the chair I occupied before, and starts stroking himself in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. “Have it your way.”

My eyes widen, it’s unbelievable, did he just…

He did not just do that. In another context, I would find it incredibly hot of him masturbating himself in front of me.

But he just denied me my peak.

That motherfucker.

His breathing becomes increasingly harsh and ragged as I see him applying pressure to the tip of his hard cock with his thumb, smearing precum over the head, over his piercing.

“Fuck.” He moans.

That did it, a man moaning is the sexiest thing he could ever do.

I slide down on shaking legs and start advancing to him.

He continues to frantically stroke his thick, pulsing cock in front of me.

“You just wouldn't obey,” He says coldly, still locking his gaze onto mine. “So I stopped giving you pleasure.”

His breaths grow more erratic as myself, struggling to maintain control, and not just jump on him.

My eyes travel his body, his jeans undone shoved to his knees, his compressive crop gym shirt, no sleeves.

His muscles straining as he moves around.

My gaze stops on his arms, of the work, I can see that both arms are covered in solid blackwork extending from the shoulders to the knuckles. Large saturated black sections are broken by flowing negative-space lines that branch organically across the arms.

The design wraps seamlessly around the musculature with subtle tonal variations and layered textures, without any recognizable figures or symbols.

The work is incredible, the linework. For a split second, I catch myself admiring it. I shouldn't be paying attention to something so trivial.

My lips part and my throat is gulping. I shift and rub my legs against each other.

I’m aching. I’m craving.

“See something you like?” he asks, his tone edged with mockery.

His voice cut into my thoughts like a blade, making me realize what I’m actually doing, staring at him.

“No, nothing at all.” I answer.

“Again, liar. Look at you, all needy for my cock.” He chuckles darkly without stopping. “Go on, take what is yours.”

He extends his legs and opens them to me. A silent invitation, a silent test.

I don’t even know if I actually go there or stay stubborn until my death.

When I just started to give in.

I slowly take a step towards him.

A crooked smile spread on his face.

“Ah ah ah, stop right there, troublemaker,” he orders “Crawl to me.” He points a finger to the floor.