Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

Penn

I want you to make me come.

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt lighter, but there was still the overwhelming desire that made it hard to breathe.

I’d never felt for anyone what I felt for Mitchell.

It was truly like I’d been going through the motions, doing what I was supposed to be doing, living blindly.

But kissing Mitchell, touching him, feeling his warmth, hearing his praise , I knew everything, and everyone before him had been a lie.

I’d been living a lie.

In the span of only a few hours, I’d gone on a date, made out with, and watched my hot date blow his load from watching me.

If there was any question or any sliver of a chance that I was straight, it had been blown to smithereens now.

Because no one had ever kissed me, flirted with me, or touched me like Mitchell.

No one ever felt this right.

A thousand things came to mind when he asked me what I wanted. I wasn’t sure about anything. None of my ex-girlfriends ever really asked what I wanted, and the one night stands didn’t really focus on my needs.

I wasn’t the type to keep asking either. If my partner didn’t want to suck my dick, I wasn’t going to push her about it.

My mind was a blur as I tried to process for the first time what it was I wanted, and the decision was as overwhelming as the reality of my throbbing cock pulsing in my hands, the wetness forming at my head, spreading against my boxers.

I just knew I needed to come before I went blind with ecstasy.

“Permission to touch?” Mitch’s voice asked, bringing me back down to earth, down to reality.

“Fuck, yes! Please, just make it?—”

The need to feel his warm palms heating me through my shirt, to feel his fingertips graze over my sensitive skin, was something I’d never experienced with anyone before.

But I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him.

The warmth of his hand around mine was like water after a drought.

His hand brushed over my sensitive, strained cock, before gently, swiftly sliding up to unbutton my pants.

Somewhere in my brain, I knew this was it.

Once I let him touch my cock, I knew it would be over.

There was no going back from that.

Almost as if he could sense my turmoil, he spoke.

“If you want me to stop, just say stop, okay?” he breathed, his voice shaking as his hand hovered over my zipper, warming my cock where he had stopped.

My cock ached beneath the heat from his palm, separated by metal and denim.

I couldn’t help but submit to the desire to thrust myself against his touch, seeking the friction.

Seeking release.

“I don’t want you to stop,” I breathed, knowing this was my death.

But it was also a sort of rebirth too.

Because I knew at that moment, I was his.

I was completely and utterly at his mercy.

Mitchell held all that I was in the palm of his hand.

I breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly unzipped my pants. Lifting my hips to help him, I let go of the remaining threads of my old self, letting my jeans fall to the ground.

Mitchell gently tugged at the waistband of my underwear, sliding them down just enough to expose me. The minute my cock was free, it was a relief. No more pain as I strained against constricting fabric.

“Fuck,” Mitchell cursed, but it wasn’t dark and seductive like before .

It was awe-struck.

It was lovely.

“You are fucking beautiful,” he murmured, the edge of his fingertips brushing against my balls, sliding slowly, achingly slow, against my shaft.

I whimpered in defeat as he closed his hand around my cock.

Mitchell settled next to me, sliding his arm behind me, shifting my body on its side, bringing me closer. I stared at him, shirtless, his dark eyes full of something softer than the lust I felt was consuming me.

His dark hair fell in his eyes, his lips still swollen from kissing me, and he was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

And he was slowly, torturously rubbing my cock, and it felt... good.

Better than good, actually.

He kissed me slowly, distracting me from my euphoria for the moment as he slid his tongue in my mouth, and instinctively, I bucked my hips against his hand.

His palm was warm. But his mouth was warmer, and at that moment, I knew exactly what I wanted, and for the first time, I didn’t feel awkward, at all. I felt invigorated.

“Mitch,” I tried to speak, my linguistics all off-kilter. All I could do was breathe, all my attention pulled to the sensation of his touch as he stroked me, coaxing me closer and closer to the edge as his fingers spread my precum over my shaft like it was freaking lube.

God that feels amazing.

“Yes, baby?” he purred into my mouth, his voice dark, sexy, and absolutely perfect.

He just called me baby.

I think I really might die.

“What does my Cream Puff want, hmm?”

“ Please... “ I cried. I was so close. I needed to feel his mouth, his tongue on me.

“I like you like this. All needy, and responsive.”

A tortured groan escaped me as I thrust myself in his hands, using my own to slide my fingers into his messy, dark hair, to run my fingertips over his rough facial hair, down through the coarse hair on his chest. I let my fingers slide through it, gripping it and committing the touch to memory .

I liked how it felt beneath my fingertips.

“Mitch...” I moaned as his mouth accosted mine again. In that kiss, I knew I could do anything.

Mitchell had given me so much already, and I knew all I had to do was ask.

And for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel guilty about asking for what I wanted. This was it, the final straw, and knowing that made me feel braver, actually.

So, I didn’t think twice about what I said next.

“I want you to suck my cock,” I breathed, my entire body heating like a flame.

At the reality I’d actually spoken my desires out loud, I added a well placed, “Please.”

I didn’t want to sound demanding, after all.

Mitchell took my lips again, nipping at my bottom lip as he spread my precum along my already sticky shaft as he slowly pumped me.

“Are you sure, baby?” he murmured, positioning me back on the couch so I was partially laying down, moving his body between my legs.

His fingertips slid up my exposed thighs as my underwear moved down to my knees. I shifted my body, and he gently pulled them down my calves, past my ankles, until they were discarded on the floor, leaving me fully naked from the waist down. I looked down at his face between my thighs, his dark eyes, and hair falling across his temple.

He was stunning, and he was kneeling before me, ready to take whatever I was willing to give.

And something about that realization gave me the courage to reach down, thread my fingers through his hair and push him toward my cock.

Mitchell didn’t miss a beat.

He wrapped his lips around my swollen head, and the relief was instant.

His warm mouth felt so fucking good.

He rolled his tongue around my shaft, grazing over my engorged veins, over my slit, and I couldn’t help the groan that escaped me.

I watched as he hollowed his cheeks, groaning with his own ecstasy as he built his rhythm. I let out a guttural moan as my hips rocked of their own accord. I gripped his hair with my fingers and I rode his face, shoving my cock down his throat without a second thought. His tongue lapped at my shaft as deep moans escaped him, throwing me over the edge.

It didn’t take long at all. Three licks, and he’d found the center of my proverbial tootsie roll pop as I moaned in ecstatic defeat, coming down his throat with a force I’d never felt.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I worried he might not be able to breathe—after all, most of my experience with women had taught me they could only take so much before they literally choked—but such was not the case with Mitchell, who swallowed every drop like my release was nothing more than his favorite drink.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, in absolute bliss, but eventually I came back down to earth when I felt Mitchell shift me once more.

“Feel better?” Mitchell asked, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

I curled my half-naked self against him, throwing my arm across his hip as I cuddled him.

He was soft and warm, and safe.

And he made everything feel undeniably perfect.

“Mhmmm,” I said dreamily.

Perhaps I still was dreaming. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. His facial hair scratched my forehead as his lips pressed a soft kiss to my skin.

“Good. Now get dressed so I can get you home before midnight. I know you need the rest.”

“I don’t want to go home,” I murmured sleepily.

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward or strange.

It felt comfortable. Because I knew he was there.

“I don’t want you to go home either,” he whispered. And for the moment that was enough.

The room was silent and I zoned out to the ramblings of the movie and Mitchell’s steady heartbeat.

Mine beat in unison with his, and I knew I was a goner.

I was one hundred percent gay for Mitchell DeVille, and I was absolutely head over heels in love with him .

Patient, sarcastic, and sexy as all hell.

I wanted him .

“When’s your next event?” he asked, pulling me from my swoon-worthy thoughts.

“What?”

“Your next event. So I can photograph it?”

Oh, yeah. That.

I’d almost forgotten Mitchell was technically working for me for the moment.

“Tomorrow night,” I yawned. “Engagement party, five o’clock.”

“I’ll be there.”