[Tate feels almost as if his knuckles have been slapped when Derek tells him to leave his jeans alone, and he does - hands dropping to his sides like a kid who learned young enough that pressing their luck will risk the wrath of a wooden spoon in a drunken mother's hand. He feels uncomfortable solely in the way that his shoulders ache and the floor boards of the platform are unyielding in that regard. He doesn't know what's coming until Derek's knees settle on either side of his head and he breathes in sharp and sudden, like a pang of claustrophobia's just sat itself in his chest.
But he's obedient - if he wants what he wants, he needs to do what he needs to do to get it. And Derek's the one he needs to please, the one he needs to win over and keep close. His alpha, the guy who wants nothing more than to please and take care of him. He needs to keep him close and if that means parting his lips for the return of his cock to his mouth, so be it. Tate's mouth opens and he swallows before he first lets it slide in, adjusting how he's laying and staying calm with slow, deep breaths as Derek's cock eases in.
This is the first time he's been in a position quite like this, and he still feels vulnerable - his toes curl when Derek's opening his jeans and he lets a whimpered, soft moan out against his cock but that's where it ends. Derek doesn't touch him, doesn't pull him out, and Tate's cock twitches with the anticipation that's let out with a sad grazing of his fingers along Derek's ribs.
He moans again, tongue pressing flat in his mouth as he tilts his head and realizes with startling certainty there's no avoiding the feed of Derek's cock - no squirming away, no pulling away. He brings his hands up to the sides of Derek's thighs, nails scratching lightly for a grip before he settles on one hand against it and the other sliding flat along Derek's abdomen in a futile attempt to barrier should he really need him to lay off.
Totally misses his chances when Derek's fondling him through his boxers, making Tate's heels skid against the flooring and his breath come out in shallow heaves through his nose. His voice is a low warble, reverberating through his throat when Derek's thrusting inward, slowly easing to the back of it while Tate's knee starts to quiver and his eyes once again water.
Fuck, though, he can do this. He has to. He sucks on Derek's cock until his cheeks hollow, dragging his lips back down his cock when he lifts it away only to eagerly greet it on the next thrust. He hopes, in some small way, Derek'll reward him with some semblance of touch - but he reminds himself he didn't ask for that. He only asked for this, and that much he needs to readjust to.]
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But he's obedient - if he wants what he wants, he needs to do what he needs to do to get it. And Derek's the one he needs to please, the one he needs to win over and keep close. His alpha, the guy who wants nothing more than to please and take care of him. He needs to keep him close and if that means parting his lips for the return of his cock to his mouth, so be it. Tate's mouth opens and he swallows before he first lets it slide in, adjusting how he's laying and staying calm with slow, deep breaths as Derek's cock eases in.
This is the first time he's been in a position quite like this, and he still feels vulnerable - his toes curl when Derek's opening his jeans and he lets a whimpered, soft moan out against his cock but that's where it ends. Derek doesn't touch him, doesn't pull him out, and Tate's cock twitches with the anticipation that's let out with a sad grazing of his fingers along Derek's ribs.
He moans again, tongue pressing flat in his mouth as he tilts his head and realizes with startling certainty there's no avoiding the feed of Derek's cock - no squirming away, no pulling away. He brings his hands up to the sides of Derek's thighs, nails scratching lightly for a grip before he settles on one hand against it and the other sliding flat along Derek's abdomen in a futile attempt to barrier should he really need him to lay off.
Totally misses his chances when Derek's fondling him through his boxers, making Tate's heels skid against the flooring and his breath come out in shallow heaves through his nose. His voice is a low warble, reverberating through his throat when Derek's thrusting inward, slowly easing to the back of it while Tate's knee starts to quiver and his eyes once again water.
Fuck, though, he can do this. He has to. He sucks on Derek's cock until his cheeks hollow, dragging his lips back down his cock when he lifts it away only to eagerly greet it on the next thrust. He hopes, in some small way, Derek'll reward him with some semblance of touch - but he reminds himself he didn't ask for that. He only asked for this, and that much he needs to readjust to.]