Snafu

Valentine's Day - Part 4 [nsfw]

"I'm going to die."

"Are you allergic to shellfish?"

Cole scowled down at his lobster. It was beautifully plated with some type of decadent herbed butter, but he had never eaten anything so fancy before, and the claws were putting him off a bit. But the real problem was that his whole body was still buzzing, nearly shaking with arousal.

Gideon had gotten him within milliseconds of an orgasm numerous times during two rounds of sex and one sensual bath, and then when room service came, he put a pillow on the chair and patted it for Cole to sit on. He was half-hard, lube slicking everything between his legs, and Gideon wanted him to eat a lobster. Which had to be a joke because weren't lobsters supposed to be aphrodisiacs?

"I've never eaten lobster before," Cole pouted.

"Here, let me help you." Gideon reached over and twisted the tail off in one smooth motion. Then he cracked it open and pulled out the meat. "There you go."

Cole tore off a small piece and dipped it into the butter, then popped it into his mouth. Gideon watched expectantly, so he gave him a petulant smile. "Chewy."

"I'm glad you like it."

"So," Cole kept his eyes on his plate as he dipped another bite into the butter, "this is what gets you off? Giving people an incentive not to do something, then trying your hardest to get them to do it? Making people squirm?"

Gideon hummed and picked up one of the claws from Cole's plate to open it for him. "I do like making you squirm. You're so cute."

"You like the power trip, though, don't you?" Cole wondered if that was why an attractive guy like him paid enough to get hookers who would do anything he asked instead of dating like normal.

"I suppose. But it's probably not as dramatic as you're thinking. I just like figuring out where people's buttons are and pushing them. Could be as simple as learning that you like a certain twist of my wrist at the correct angle," he reached beneath the table and did exactly the motion that he was talking about – which made Cole rise to attention and gasp into his plate – and then took his hand back and kept dismantling the lobster, "or it could be something like flogging someone until they cannot tell the difference between a hit and an orgasm."

Cole glanced at him in surprise, and Gideon shrugged. "Different strokes for different folks. And I've figured out that you enjoy a bit of a challenge."

That Cole certainly did, although he was getting fed up with this one. By the time they finished dinner and Gideon had edged him at least three more times – in the chair at the table, up against the wall, and then lying down on the bed – he was about to tear the sheets up into tiny little shreds with his teeth. From his perch on top of Cole's legs, Gideon cooed when Cole dug his fingernails deep, leaving little white crescents in the thighs that bracketed his hips and prevented him from fucking into the air. Gideon stroked his hands down Cole's heaving chest.

"You're trying to kill me," Cole whined, twisting his face to the side to pant into the duvet.

"Hardly." Gideon chuckled. "I think you've done very well. And our time is up soon. But there is one more thing that I need you to do."

Cole glared at him out of the corner of his eye. To think he had been excited and worn his special lingerie for this jerk. "What?"

"I need you to beg for it."

Cole shut his eyes. He had done plenty of begging over the years. He was well-practiced in the art of high pornographic moaning. Harder. Deeper. Give it to me just like that. Please, please, please. Ugh. But it was all for the sake of the camera, or in his case - since he was a whore, not a pornstar - the trick. Never had he begged for his own completion, his own pleasure. The very thing that he was supposedly always in control over, unless, apparently, Gideon was involved.