Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
And so he only nodded, and leaned slightly into the press of that hand encircling his throat.
Amani exhaled a warm, low sound of pleasure, silken and sensuous, and straightened with one last stroke of his fingertips down Vic’s throat. “Strip for me, then,” he said. “Let me see you.”
Vic leaned after that touch, holding on to it for as long as he could when it felt like the warmth of the sun on a cold night. But Amani was watching him, waiting…and Vic wanted to know how it would feel.
How it would feel to earn his approval, to earn that soft murmur of sweet boy.
He slipped the top button of his shirt, then the next and the next, drawing the fabric aside and then letting it fall down his arms before shrugging out of it to leave himself bare-chested. The faint chill of night seeping through the glass windowpanes kissed over his skin, but it wasn’t the cold that made him shiver, that made his nipples tighten and ache as if brushed by ghostly fingers, lips, tongues.
It was the way those amber eyes slid over him like molten oil, gliding across his body as if enveloping him in the slick caress of Amani’s gaze.
Amani sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, slipping his sandals off and crossing his legs; the slits in the side of his caftan parted to expose a gleaming length of thigh, temptation curving up toward his hip and promising a glimpse of the curves of his ass only for shimmer-grey linen to cruelly deny Vic. Leaning back lazily on one hand, Amani flicked his fingers lightly—without a word commanding Vic to continue. He was different right now, Vic realized; the things Amani had only hinted at when he’d looked through the cracks in defensive walls blooming to the fore now, this sensual and languid ease that exuded a certain quiet authority, a control that didn’t need force or fury to exercise his will.
All Amani had to do was want—and that magnetism of his caught anyone around him up in the force of his pull, and turned their will to his.
And Vic let himself be pulled into Amani’s will, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, rising up on his knees to slide out of them and leave him in nothing but boxer-briefs. He hesitated for just a moment, a flutter just behind his ribs, his breaths hitching. He was already hard and getting harder, his cock twitching and jerking against his boxer-briefs, a damp spot dewing and soaking against the fabric as his cock-head rubbed against the almost painful texture of the seams. As he dragged the waistband down, baring himself fully, Amani’s gaze dropped down his body, marking a path over his stomach, slinking along his cock—and Vic caught a hiss behind his teeth as his cock ached and swelled, throbbing hard, straining in near-agonizing little twinges. Freezing, curling forward with a shudder, he sank his teeth hard into his lower lip until the pain pushed him to move again, collecting himself enough to twist out of the underwear and toss them aside. He felt so hot everywhere, his face burning, his skin tight, his cock surging—and Amani hadn’t even touched him yet.
All he’d had to do was look at him, command him to kneel before him and strip, and Vic was already a wreck.
And all he had to do was whisper “Good, sweet boy” for Vic to jerk with a stifled moan in the back of his throat, digging his nails against his thighs as his cock jolted with a sharp spurt of pre-cum, spilling from the tip and dripping toward the floor.
“So you like this already?” Amani purred. “You’re already so hard.”
“I…” Vic struggled for words. Struggled to define this hot, needy feeling inside him. “This…when you call me that…”
“Good.” Amani reached out and traced a single fingertip down his jaw, painting his skin with warmth. “That’s exactly how I want it.”
“I don’t understand.” Vic lifted his head, looking up at Amani. He felt naked in more than his skin, in this moment. “I don’t understand why I’m like this. Why this does this to me, and I’ve never known. You wrapped your hand around my throat, and I thought I’d come.”
“Some things don’t need a reason,” Amani replied gently. “They just are.”
“But…it’s just two words.”
“Small things can be very powerful in the right situation, or in the hands of the right person. Does it feel good?” When Vic nodded, Amani tapped a fingertip to his nose. “And do you want more?”
Vic parted his lips, hesitating, then exhaled in a rush, “Yes.”
“No.” Another tap, this time to his lips, warm fingertip tracing the outline of his mouth until his lips pulsed and opened of their own volition. “The correct response is ‘yes, Master.’”