The Broken Arm Favor - Chapter 8

I don’t even open Pornhub anymore. It’s pathetic, but it’s true. The tabs are still there on my laptop, thumbnails frozen mid-moan, but I don’t click them. I don’t even jerk off when I’m alone.

Because now, nothing feels right unless it’s him. Unless my hand is wrapped around Troye’s cock. Unless I’m watching his face twist up and hearing his breath go ragged.

It’s like I rewired my body. I don’t cum without his taste, his moans, his fucking need.

Tonight, when I slid onto his bed, Troye caught the way I was hard already, straining against my sweats. He smirked, but there was something darker in his eyes.

“You didn’t touch yourself again, did you?”

I shook my head, shame and hunger tangled in my chest. “Didn’t want to. I only want to cum when I’m… when I’m making you cum.”

His jaw clenched, cock twitching under his shorts. He sat up, grabbed my chin with his good hand, and stared into me like he was trying to brand the words in my brain.

“Don’t ever do this for anyone else,” he said, low and sharp. “You’re mine.”

The possessiveness sent a jolt through me, straight to my cock. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—just nodded, already aching to prove it.

I slid down, pulling his shorts off. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, already dripping precum. I wrapped my good hand around him slowly, teasing, dragging my thumb over the head until he cursed under his breath.

“Connor,” he warned.

But I didn’t give him mercy. I pumped him lazily, letting the lube squelch, stroking slow enough to drive him insane. His thighs tensed, hips twitching for more.

“Faster,” he groaned. “Tighter… fuck, only you can do it like this.”

I smirked up at him. For once, I wasn’t just submissive—I was in control. I edged him mercilessly, dragging him to the brink and backing off, watching him squirm. Every time he started panting like he was close, I loosened my grip, slowed my strokes, smirked at the way he almost whined.

“Connor—fuck—please,” he gasped, his good hand clawing the sheets. “Don’t stop teasing me. I need it.”

His desperation made me harder than anything porn ever did. I leaned down, licked a stripe up his cock, then sucked the head into my mouth. Salty precum coated my tongue as I bobbed my head just enough to make him shake.

“God, you’re killing me,” he moaned.

I pulled off with a wet pop, stroking him again, edging him cruelly. “Beg for it,” I said, my voice low, surprising even myself.

Troye’s eyes went wide, then glazed over with need. “Please, Connor. Please make me cum. Don’t leave me like this.”

The power was electric, surging through me. I stroked him faster, tighter, finally giving him what he wanted. His hips bucked, his moans raw and unfiltered.

He exploded with a cry, hot ropes of cum spilling across his stomach and chest. It dripped down his skin in messy streaks, glistening under the dim light.

I didn’t stop there. I dipped my head down, licked a slow trail across his stomach, tasting him, dragging my tongue through the sticky mess. I looked up at him while I did it, his eyes locked on mine, and the way his breath hitched almost made me cum untouched.

“Fuck,” he whispered, trembling. “You’re insane. You’re mine.”

And the truth was—I wanted nothing more.