Pumpkin Crush: An MM Romance, page 16
I sucked his balls into my mouth, one at a time, worshipping every inch, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, lips mouthing every inch. His hips bucked, cock bobbing against my cheek, smearing precum, marking me.
The heat in the room was suffocating, the need almost painful. My free hand stroked his thigh, up to his hip, nails digging in just enough to leave little crescent moons.
I nuzzled the base, burying my face in the thick hair, breathing him in, lost to the moment, letting him feel every ounce of worship, of hunger, of adoration.
“Fuck, Miles, you’re gonna kill me,” Derek gasped, hands flying to my hair, tugging, not guiding, just holding on.
My tongue flicked up, tracing the length, swirling around the head, then licking the shaft from root to tip, leaving it wet and glistening. My lips pressed kisses all over, each one a claim, a promise, a mark that would last longer than any bruise.
“You’re mine,” I whispered, pumping him slow, rubbing the head against my cheek, wanting him to see himself on me, in me, all over me.
The way he watched, hungry and awed, the way his cock pulsed in my grip, told me everything I needed. He was close, but not yet—not until I had wrung every sound from his lips, every shiver from his body.
The power shift happened fast—one moment I was in control, the next Derek’s hand was tangled in my hair, dragging me up with a roughness that sent heat rushing straight to my cock. He bent, lips at my ear, voice pitched low and hungry. “You like teasing, don’t you? Think you can get away with driving me insane?”
My knees hit the carpet in front of the full-length mirror, the cool glass just inches from my face. The world narrowed to Derek’s reflection—broad chest heaving, cock flushed and leaking, eyes blazing with intent. He stood over me, one hand gripping the base of his cock, other twisting in my hair, guiding my gaze up, forcing me to watch every filthy second.
“Worship,” Derek growled, hips canting forward, the tip of his cock smearing precome across my cheek, marking me in a streak that glistened under the bedroom lights. “Show us both what you’re good for. Open your mouth. Nice and wide.”
Obedience was instinct—my lips parted, tongue lolling, mouth watering at the sight and smell of him, all salt and heat and power. His cock pressed to my lips, heavy and hot, demanding surrender. I sucked the head between my lips, swirling my tongue around the slit, tasting him, moaning at the way he pulsed for me.
“That’s it, pretty boy,” he purred, voice thick, watching every move in the glass. “Eyes on us. Want to see how ruined you look, how filthy you are for me.”
My gaze locked with his in the mirror. The sight of myself—on my knees, cheeks flushed, mouth stuffed full of him—sent another jolt of heat through me. My hand gripped the base, steadying him as I took more, tongue swirling, lips sealing around the thick shaft, letting spit drip and string from my chin.
He didn’t let me set the pace. Strong hands took over, guiding my head, pushing deeper, hips rocking just enough to press the head of his cock against the back of my throat. I swallowed, gagging a little, and he groaned, fingers flexing in my hair, not hurting, just reminding me who owned every inch of me tonight.
“Such a good fucking mouth,” Derek muttered, his voice a rasp that set my nerves alight. “You love this, don’t you? Love showing off for me. Love knowing I could ruin you with just a word.”
His cock dragged out, saliva webbing between my lips and his shaft. He slapped it against my tongue, painting my face, marking me with each heavy, deliberate tap. My jaw ached, eyes watered, but the need only burned hotter. I wanted to take all of him, wanted to choke on it, wanted to see him break for me.
Fingers stroked my cheek, thumb tracing the mess he’d left there. “Beg for it,” he demanded, the words a dark thrill.
“Please,” I croaked, voice ruined, spit running down my chin. “Want you in my throat. Want you to fuck my mouth. Make me yours.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he growled, lining up again, feeding his cock back between my lips. The rhythm was slow at first—long, deep thrusts, letting me savor the stretch, the taste, the power in every motion. He watched in the mirror, drinking in every reaction, every moan, every desperate glance.
The praise came filthy, relentless. “Such a perfect slut for me. Look at you—face fucked, eyes all glassy, drooling for cock. You’d let me keep you like this all night, wouldn’t you?”
I moaned around him, nodding as best I could, fingers digging into his thighs, nails biting deep. Each thrust set my head bobbing, spit slicking his shaft, running down to wet my chest, the sound of it obscene in the quiet room.
Derek’s hips snapped forward, holding me down, cock buried in my throat until my vision sparkled at the edges. “Take it. Swallow every fucking inch. Want you to remember this—remember who made you come undone.”
Tears pricked my eyes, but I never looked away from our reflection. The sight of him—cock disappearing between my lips, face twisted with pleasure, muscles flexing with restraint—made me ache, made me desperate for more.
He finally pulled out, letting me gasp for air, spit and precome smeared across my mouth, chin, neck. He cupped my face, thumbing the mess across my cheeks, painting me with his want.
“Kiss it,” he commanded, voice velvet and gravel. “Show me how much you love it.”
My lips pressed reverent kisses along the length, tongue lapping at the slick, tasting myself and him, worshiping every vein and ridge. I mouthed at his balls, nuzzling, sucking, wanting him everywhere, wanting to be marked and claimed.
“Can’t get enough of you,” I whispered, licking a fat bead of precome from the slit, sucking it down, hungry for more.
He groaned, hand tightening in my hair, a silent threat and a promise. “You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasped, lips swollen, jaw aching. “Always. However you want me.”
A dark, hungry sound broke from Derek’s throat. Fingers twisted in my hair, forcing my head back, and his other hand gripped his cock at the base—thick and shining, flushed a deep, angry red. “Open up,” he growled, voice gone hoarse with want.
Mouth dropped wide, tongue lolling, I watched our reflection—saw myself kneeling, lips parted in need, cheeks streaked with spit and arousal, eyes heavy-lidded with hunger. Derek spat down at me, slow and deliberate, watching it land wet and hot on my tongue. The taste was sharp, his flavor filling my mouth. A second, a third, each spit heavier, rougher, until my chin was slick and the mess ran down my throat, marking me from the inside out.
“Swallow it. Show me.” He waited, thumb forcing my jaw wider, watching every muscle in my throat work as I gulped it down. Approval burned in his eyes, savage and gentle all at once.
“You love being dirty for me, don’t you?” His words were a growl, thick with pride and disbelief. “Such a good boy—filthy and perfect.”
His cock slapped against my cheek, leaving a smear of precome, then across my lips, my nose, my other cheek. Each impact was a blessing, a punishment, a claim. My cock jerked, leaking all over my own thigh. Another slap—harder, wetter. Then he aimed lower, smacking the weight of his dick against my tongue, making me whimper and chase after it, desperate to taste, to please.
Fingers dug in, holding me still, as he spat again, this time directly on my cock where it jutted up, slick and eager. The sight—the sheer filth of it—sent a wave of heat crashing through me. His hand wrapped around me, smearing the spit, pumping me slow and tight, thumb rubbing the head with practiced cruelty.
But he wasn’t done. He pressed the head of his cock against my mouth, smearing precome across my lips, then slapped it against my tongue, watching it bounce, heavy and obscene. “You know what to do. Get it wet, make it sloppy.”
My tongue flattened, tracing the veins, circling the head, lapping up every drop, every taste. I sucked him in, cheeks hollowing, drool spilling down my chin, dripping onto his hand. Derek’s hips rolled, shallow at first—just the head, just a tease, just enough to make me whine.
“Don’t tease,” I begged, voice wrecked, mouth stuffed full, spit trailing down my chest.
“You want rough? I’ll give you rough.” His voice was low, savage, a promise and a threat.
His grip tightened, both hands in my hair, and suddenly he was fucking into my mouth with merciless rhythm—deep, hard, relentless. The world shrank to sensation: the drag of his cock across my tongue, the bruising stretch at the back of my throat, the obscene, wet sounds filling the air.
Tears pricked my eyes, spit pooled under my chin, but I never looked away from the mirror. I wanted to see myself ruined, wanted him to see how desperate I was, how much I needed this. My hands flew to his thighs, holding on, bracing myself as he used my mouth for his pleasure.
“That’s it, take it, take all of me,” he growled, hips snapping, cock pounding deeper, faster, hitting the back of my throat again and again. His hands controlled every angle, every thrust, dragging me down, holding me there until I thought I’d pass out, then pulling back just enough for me to gasp a breath before shoving back in.
The mess built between us—spit, tears, precome, sweat—all of it mixed, slicking my face, my chest, my cock. Derek’s praise came relentless, each word driving me further into surrender. “So fucking beautiful like this. Look at yourself. Look at the way you drool for me, the way you take every inch. You’re made for this—made to be on your knees, made to be filled.”
Every thrust sent shudders through me, my cock aching, balls tight, the need overwhelming. He paused only to spit again, hot and wet, right into my open mouth, then pushed back in, deeper than before, groaning at the way I swallowed around him.
My knees nearly gave out, breath ragged, vision a haze of spit and need. Derek didn’t let me catch a second—his hands clamped hard on my shoulders, manhandling me up, pressing my back to the cool expanse of the mirrored wall. The glass trembled under the force, every nerve sparking where he held me in place. The thrill of being seen, being shown off, only made it worse—made the ache sharper, the hunger absolute.
Fingers hooked in the waistband of my underwear. One hard yank, the fabric snapped, baring my cock and hole to the hungry air. My thighs were forced apart, wide and helpless, and I watched my reflection blush dark with shame and arousal.
“Can’t believe how perfect you are,” Derek breathed, voice trembling, jaw shadowed with the threat of losing control. His eyes roved over me, drinking in the flushed skin, the bare curve of my ass, the hungry throb of my cock. “This pretty pink hole—fuck, Miles. Been dreaming about ruining it since the day we met.”
Large hands spread me wider, thumbs digging into my ass, holding me open for the mirror, for him, for anyone who might walk in and see what I was letting happen. My hole clenched under his gaze, hungry, aching, slick with spit and sweat and raw want. I arched, shameless, tilting my hips to show him everything, wordless invitation pouring from my body.
Tongue flicked out, hot and wet, tracing a filthy line up my thigh. Teeth grazed the crease where leg met ass, lips planting bruising kisses up to my rim. My body jolted when he spit directly onto my hole, a hot shock that made me shudder and moan, forehead thunking softly against the mirror.
“You want to be filled, don’t you?” Derek’s tongue teased my rim, swirling, tracing, lapping up the mess he’d made. “Want me to breed you, fill you so deep it leaks down your legs. Tell me, Miles. Tell me what you need.”
“Need you to eat me out,” I gasped, shaking. “Need your mouth on me, need your tongue inside. Want you to fuck me—breed me. Make me yours.”
A groan, dark and helpless, vibrated against my skin before his mouth descended, devouring me with filthy reverence. Tongue pressed inside, slow at first, then harder, faster, twisting and curling until I was gasping, begging, clutching the glass to keep from falling. He alternated between lapping and fucking me, spreading my cheeks wider, sucking my hole, letting spit drip and pool, tongue plunging so deep my legs trembled.
My cock leaked, pulsing against my belly, untouched but aching. Derek pulled back, chest heaving, lips and chin slick with spit and arousal. “Don’t you dare touch yourself,” he commanded, voice rough. “Want you shaking for me—want you to know I own this body.”
His mouth moved up, tongue lapping a stripe up my taint, dragging wet heat over my balls, sucking one into his mouth, rolling it with obscene, practiced ease. Each sound I made drove him harder, tongue relentless, worshipping every inch, as if he could imprint himself on my skin from the inside out.
Without warning, he dropped to his knees, face buried in my ass, tongue fucking me, while one hand finally gripped my cock, stroking slow and cruel. I wailed, the tension so sharp it hurt, pleasure so bright it bordered on pain.
“Fuck, Derek, please—please don’t stop,” I babbled, breathless, desperate, pressing my hips back into his mouth. He alternated sucking my rim, then my cock—mouth moving back and forth, tasting, teasing, ruining me for anyone else. Every time his lips closed over the head, he sucked hard, swirling his tongue, swallowing my cries. Then he’d dive back, tongue plunging into my hole, fucking me open, making me slick and ready for anything he wanted to give.
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, voice gone hoarse and shaky. “Sweet and filthy, made for me. Can’t get enough—could spend all night eating you out, getting you ready to take my cock.”
Hands hooked under my knees, lifting my legs higher, nearly folding me against the mirror. I watched the entire filthy scene reflected back—my body spread wide, cock swollen, hole gaping, Derek’s broad shoulders wedged between my thighs, beard slick with spit and need.
“You ever seen yourself like this?” he asked, pausing to nuzzle the crease of my thigh, licking a fat, wet stripe over my rim. “So fucking wrecked, so open, so desperate for my tongue?”
My answer came out broken, trembling. “Never—never wanted anyone like this. Never let anyone see me like this. Only you.”
That did something to him. His hands tightened, squeezing my thighs hard enough to bruise, mouth devouring every inch, sucking and licking and biting, switching between my hole and my cock. He worshipped both—no shame, no hesitation, as if he could never get enough, as if he’d starve if he ever stopped.
Teeth grazed my shaft, tongue swirled over the slit, lapping up every drop of precome, humming in approval as I jerked and moaned. Then he dove back, tongue spearing deep, fucking me open, stretching me with nothing but spit and need and the promise of being ruined.
“Gonna make you mine,” Derek promised, voice shaking with the force of it. “Gonna eat you, fuck you, fill you until you can’t take any more. No one else gets this—just me. Just you and me and this fucking mess.”
Warm hands cupped my face, pulling me up into a messy, claiming kiss. Derek tasted of spit and salt, tongue pressing past my lips with a hunger that left me dizzy. My head spun with the weight of his need, the way his body blanketed mine, muscles taut and trembling, cock grinding heavy and wet against my hip.
A slick click echoed through the room as he flipped open the lube, the sudden cold a shock against my thigh. He poured too much, letting it drip down my ass, catching the mess with his palm before stroking it over his cock—slow, rough, all business, no pretense of patience left in him. I could feel the heat of him against my skin, the swollen head sliding through the mess at my rim, teasing but never quite pushing in.
Fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me up for another kiss. Teeth scraped my bottom lip, his other hand guiding my legs wider, opening me so completely there was nothing I could hide. “Want to watch you take it,” he whispered against my mouth, breath ragged, every word a promise and a threat. “Want to see you fall apart on my cock.”
One long, slick thrust split me open. Pressure gave way to burn, then to a fullness that nearly knocked the air from my lungs. My head fell back, a broken moan torn from my throat as his hips pressed in, filling me until I thought I might tear.
Derek gripped my thighs, pushing them up, pinning me open to the mirror and the ceiling, giving both of us the best possible view. His eyes locked on the place where our bodies joined, jaw clenched, pupils blown wide with hunger. “So fucking tight,” he groaned, grinding deep, rocking slowly just to make me feel every inch. “Could stay buried in you forever.”
Every roll of his hips dragged fire through my body, nerves singing, hole spasming greedily around his cock. Sweat bloomed between us, slicking our skin, sticking my back to the sheets as he fucked in deep and slow, building the tension until it felt like my heart might break.
Words spilled out of him—praise and filth, raw and relentless. “Taking it so good, baby. Stretching so fucking sweet for me. That’s it, give it all up, let me own you.”
Each stroke hit deeper, harder, the pace brutal, relentless. My hands flew to his back, nails raking down muscle, desperate for something to anchor me as he started pounding, cock driving in to the root with every thrust. I could feel the bed rock beneath us, hear the slap of skin, the wet sounds where he fucked into me, where his body pressed against mine.
The mirror caught every filthy detail. Our bodies tangled, his cock plunging in and out, my hole stretched wide and pink, glistening with spit and lube and need. Derek watched, mesmerized, groaning every time my body clenched, every time I cried out, every time I begged for more.
A hand slipped between us, finding my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. “Want you hard for me, want you leaking, want you desperate. Show me how much you love getting ruined.”
I could barely speak, every word coming out a gasp, a plea. “Don’t stop—don’t ever stop. Need you so fucking bad, need it, Derek, need you to break me.”
He changed the angle, planting his feet on the mattress, squatting low and slamming in deeper, rougher, the head of his cock grinding against my prostate with surgical precision. Sparks exploded behind my eyes, vision blurring, cries torn from my lips as he drove me closer and closer to the edge.
