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Chapter 15 ⚠️

As Soren's words sink in, a flush of embarrassment floods my cheeks, burning with a heat that rivals the warmth of the morning sun. 

My heart races with shame, my body betraying me in a way that leaves me feeling exposed. 

Soren's smirk only deepens at my reaction, his eyes sparkling with mischief as his hand falls from my stomach and teases me gently.

Despite my attempts to hide my discomfort, I can't shake the feeling of self-consciousness that washes over me, threatening to engulf me in its suffocating embrace.

I attempt to sit up, a feeble attempt to salvage some  dignity.

 I shift awkwardly, my movements clumsy and uncertain as I try to distance myself from Soren's gaze.

But his hand on my waist holds me in place as it tightens around my waist, holding me in place with a firm yet gentle grip as his other hand works up and down on my shaft, creating a burning friction.

I place my hands on my face to hide myself.

"Don't be embarrassed, Sam," he says softly, his voice laced with understanding.

 "It's natural."

"Let me help you," Soren offers.

"No!" I protest, 

but he doesn't let me finish as he pulls my trousers down. 

Soren spits on his hand using it as a  lube, and when the wetness comes in contact with me, I flinch.

Feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, I grasp for the nearest pillow, desperate to muffle any sound that might want to come out. Pressing it against my face, I also hope to block out the world, if only for a moment.

But the pillow carries the scent of Soren, enveloping me in a heady cloud of desire and longing.

 Instead of finding solace, I am drawn deeper into my feelings, the aroma of Soren's presence heightening my senses and leaving me feeling high.

"Take the pillow from your face," I hear Soren say.

It takes me a minute to do as told, tossing the pillow aside, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I turn to face Soren.

Our eyes meet.

I close them.

I'm a coward, I can't look at him. 

I feel Soren's lips on mine. 

 The kiss both commanding and tender, sending a hot wave through my veins as my stomach begins to tighten. 

He whispers for me to open my eyes against my lips, his words coaxing me to do so. With a hesitant breath, I comply, allowing myself to be enveloped by the intensity of his gaze, lost in the depths of his dark eyes as our passion ignites between us.

"Good boy, I want to see your face when you come for me," Soren's voice resonates with authority, yet there is a gentleness to his tone that contradicts his words.

His eyes, fixated on me with an almost predatory intensity, make me acutely aware that I am also affected by this, and because of that, I can't shake the feeling of being his prey, vulnerable and exposed beneath his watchful gaze.

I feel something wet trickle down my belly as my eyes roll back into my head as Soren starts to stroke harder, my hips starting to strain upwards on their own. 

Soren loosens his grip. "Thrust into my hand," he says. 

I don't know what I am doing, but I find myself chasing his hand, following the pumping motion, thrusting deeper into Soren's fists with each stroke.