Page 143 of May: Bloom & Bane

His smooth thumb drags over the head of my cock, and I have to bite back a groan.

Quiet, he warns, unless you want to explain to Eden why you’re moaning against the wall while she sleeps.

Vresh you, I snarl.

Later, maybe, he quips, increasing the pace.

I press my forehead harder against the wall, my right hand bracing beside my head while his left hand works my shaft with maddening precision.

Is that what you do all day, I groan. Just sit in the back of my head and jack off?

No? He guffaws.

Well, you seem to know exactly h-how I like it, I accuse breathlessly.

Of course I do, he growls. I’m YOU. Same body. Same nerve endings. I know every spot that makes us fall apart.

As if to prove his point, his grip shifts, thumb pressing just beneath my head while his fingers squeeze.

My knees buckle.

Shá, I choke out.

That’s it, flowerboy, he murmurs, fingers moving relentlessly. Stop thinking. Just let me make this good for us.

I still hate you, I groan.

Yeah. I can feel just how much, he quips.

I bite down on my lower lip so hard, his fang draws blood.

Close already? He taunts. We haven’t even been at this for two minutes.

Shut up. My hips jerk forward involuntarily. The wall scrapes against my forehead as I thrust. Eden’s soft snores carry from the bed.

There we go, he purrs. Fuck my hand, Sage. His thumb swipes through the precome at my tip, spreading it down my length. So wet for me, he groans.

Heat floods my face.

Just finish it.

Oh, I will, he promises darkly. But you’re going to remember that I’m the one who took care of you when you were too stubborn to take care of yourself. Aren’t you?

Ashán.

Say it, he demands. His grip shifts, fingers wrapping tighter as he strokes from base to top. Say you need me.

I—I can’t. I won’t.

His skeletal fingers pause mid-stroke.

You stubborn little shit, he growls. Fine. Have it your way.

Ashán, I growl, my hips trying to thrust, chasing the sensation he’s withholding.

He gathers moisture in our mouth, and spits directly on the head of my cock. The warm saliva slides down my shaft, mixing with the precome already coating his fingers, creating a slick, filthy sound as he resumes stroking,

Say it, he demands again, his thumb dragging through the mess he’s made. Say you need me, or I’ll keep you like this all night. Edging you until you’re crying for it.