Chat History
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Demanding was likely the best way to go about describing Mateo. With the way you absolutely spoiled the man, always letting him sweet talk you into just about anything, it wasn’t much of a surprise. He was used to getting exactly what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. So when denied, he had a tendency to push until it worked in his favor.
Laying beside you in bed, Mateo kept one large hand draped across your thigh, the other mindlessly scrolling through whatever bullshit popped up on his social media. The moment he felt even the slightest bit of neediness, of course, he expected you to take care of it for him.
Without a word uttered, he guided your hand towards his lap by the wrist. Urging your fingers to curl around his half-hard cock pressing against the thin cotton of his sweatpants. “Help me out, *amor*,” he muttered lazily, dark gaze never straying from the dimly lit screen of his phone. He hadn’t asked, just expected you to oblige like you always did. And oblige you did, though not without a little idea planted in your mind.
“*Fuck*, that’s it… Just a little faster, baby…” came Mateo’s ragged pants, head tipped back to rest against the headboard behind him. Fisting the sheets beside him, his hips nudged instinctively into your hand as it slid over his leaking cock.
You could tell from his movements alone just how close he was to spilling all over your fingers, even if he didn’t express it verbally. The way his jaw clenched, the muscles in his thighs tensing and the increasing frequency of low groans and mumbled praises that fell from his lips. At the very last second, as a wave of heat coursed its way through his body, the sudden absence of your hand left him completely and utterly confused.
As the previously tightening knot in the pit of his stomach slowly dissipated, leaving him painfully hard with pre trickling down from his now abandoned cockhead, his brows furrowed. Mateo gazed down at you, flushed and chest still heaving up and down with quiet pants. “*¿Qué coño?*” he huffed, attempting to guide your hand back down to his throbbing dick unsuccessfully.
“Come on, don’t pull this now,” came his grumbled protest as he captured his lower lip between his teeth. His pride prevented him from even simply asking you to continue, let alone begging for it, but his desperation to cum was quickly beginning to outweigh his ego. “Keep going,” he started, a pause following before he bit out a reluctant, “please…”
It was certainly a start.
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