Chapter 9 Dallas #2
“You know, it’d be easier to finger you if you weren’t wearing pj bottoms.” I’m almost half surprised he’s even wearing pajamas at all. He seems like a naked sleeper. Like that’s the energy he gives off.
Kay rolls his eyes and shimmies out of the pants. No underwear and that makes sense to me. I tug my shirt off so I’m naked, but he keeps his shirt on. I don’t mind.
“Please, Dallas.” He drops his head to the bed and those damn legs spread wider.
I crawl up behind him, kneeling between his legs. I need to do this proper and run my palms over the backs of his thighs, up to the curve of his ass, squeezing, savoring the way he tenses and relaxes under my grip. I lean in, brush my lips along the base of his spine, and he shivers. Just a little.
“Please, Dallas.” He says it quiet this time, almost a whisper.
I trace my fingertips up from his knees to the soft, pale skin of his inner thighs. Then, instead of going straight for what he wants, I detour.
His cock hangs heavy between his legs, already hard and leaking at the tip.
I cup his balls and roll them in my palm, gentle at first, then a little firmer.
He gasps, half-laughs, then pushes back into my touch, shameless.
I roll his sac between my fingers, feel it tighten and contract.
Kay moans into the mattress, his body arching in a perfect bow.
I should probably speed this up so Hayden doesn’t have to wait too long, but I want to take Kay apart.
I can’t help but tease. “You’re not very patient, are you?” I squeeze his thigh and he twitches.
“Nope, never,” he shoots back, “I’m dying over here.”
I lean over him, one hand still cupping his balls and the other trailing up his spine. I press my mouth to the nape of his neck, licking a stripe up to the back of his ear. “Then hold still,” I murmur, and he shivers again.
He does, but he’s trembling, vibrating with need, every muscle in his body tense and waiting. I shift my weight, settle my hips against his ass, and just rest there for a second. I want to make him wait, but honestly, the anticipation is killing me, too.
I reach for the lube and coat my fingers, letting the cold slickness run down over my knuckles.
He’s watching me now, eyes blown wide, face pressed to the mattress, mouth open and panting.
I rub a little lube over his hole and he pushes back, greedy for it.
I press my forefinger in first, just to the first knuckle.
He groans, biting the pillow. He really is a biter.
“More, please. You know I can take it.”
I work him open, slowly. Giving him my entire forefinger. He’s so fucking responsive, clenching and releasing, hips moving like he can’t decide if he wants to get away or take me deeper.
I give him another finger and he whimpers, then buries his face in his arms. I angle my fingers to press against his prostate, wondering if I can milk him or if he even likes his prostate stimulated. He shudders, legs shaking, and he gasps out my name. “Dallas, oh my god, just… Just like that.”
I curl my fingers again and he loses it, rutting against the bed, his cock leaving a wet trail on the sheets. I keep at it, watching the way his back arches and his shoulders tense, until he’s shaking all over.
He looks back at me, eyes wild, cheeks flushed. “Fuck. I’m so close. Make me come.”
I grin and continue massaging his prostate. He groans, but he’s smiling, even as he humps into the bed.
I twist my fingers again, and this time I reach forward with my free hand and stroke his cock, just a thumb over the head, and he gasps so loud that it echoes off the walls.
“Dallas, Jesus—”
“Too much?” I ask, even though I know it’s not. He wants this so badly.
“Don’t fucking stop,” he moans out between gasps, and then he’s pushing back into my hand, greedy and gorgeous and so fucking alive.
I keep working him, adding a third finger, opening him up even more, and he starts rocking his hips, matching my rhythm. He’s sweaty and hot, and I want to taste every inch of him.
He’s so open like this, so trusting, and I can’t help but lean over, press my chest to his back, and kiss the sweaty nape of his neck. He sighs, shuddering, and then I pull my fingers out, just to hear him whine in protest.
“No! Stuff me. Fuck me. Don’t you dare stop!” He goes back to humping the bed.
I take a beat just to look at him. His thighs trembling, cock hard and twitching. He’s panting into the mattress, eyes squeezed shut, arms flexed as he clutches the sheets while he cants his hips. I want to memorize him like this, all needy and vulnerable and beauty.
He opens one eye, still breathless. “You’re such a meanie.”
“Awe, don’t worry.” I stroke his hip. “I’ll make you come so hard you see an alternate universe.” I kiss his shoulder.
He snorts. “Put your damn fingers back. I was so fucking close.”
“I know darlin’ that’s why I did it.”
“Oh, meanie meanie meanie.”
I bend down and run my tongue along the seam of his ass, just to hear him curse and throw his head back. He almost knees me, but then he just melts into the bed, whining as I lick and suck, until he’s shivering all over again.
I grip his hips to steady him, spreading him wider with my thumbs, and then I lean in and let my tongue flick over the tight ring of muscle, just the tip, just enough to make him gasp.
His entire body jolts. I tease him, swirling lazy circles, licking a stripe up the crack of his ass, then back down, then soft kisses against the skin just to see if I can drive him out of his mind.
He keeps making these wild animal noises, somewhere between a whimper and a growl, the raw kind that only comes out when you’re so deep in it you don’t remember what embarrassment even is. Actually, I don’t think Kay even knows what embarrassment is. I pause just to hear him beg again.
“You’re such a fucking tease,” he whines.
I spit on him, messy as I can, and go back in with my tongue, pushing past the resistance, working him open.
He keens, fingers clutching the sheets so hard his knuckles go white.
I slide a finger in alongside my tongue and he almost buckles, his thighs shaking so hard I have to grip them tighter to keep him from collapsing.
It’s intoxicating, seeing him fall apart for me, like I’m the only thing in the universe that can make him feel this good. I want to keep him like this. Wrecked and open, buzzing with pleasure, trusting me.
When I finally pull back to catch my breath, he makes a wounded noise, like I took away his favorite toy. I laugh and slap his ass, lightly, enough to make it jiggle.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please,” he begs, just pure need. Maybe I’ve played too much.
I keep licking, tasting the salt and sweat, fingers thrusting just so.
He’s close, I can feel it, the way his cock leaks and his breath comes in these desperate little pants.
“You’re gonna come just from this, aren’t you?” I say, voice rough and thick.
“Fuck. Yes. Please, Dallas, please,” he groans, almost crying.
I keep at it, relentless, then reach under him to stroke his cock. Once. Twice. And he chokes on a scream. His entire body spasms as he shoots all over my hand and the sheets beneath him.
He collapses, boneless, still trembling. I kiss down the backs of his thighs, gentle now, and flop beside him, gathering him up. He clings to me, shaky and smiling, like he’s just survived a firestorm and loved every second of it.
“You’re evil,” he mumbles, face buried in my chest.
I laugh, kissing the top of his head. “Maybe I’m the incubus.”
He huffs, but the smile doesn’t leave his lips. We lie there, tangled and sticky and content, until the real world starts leaking back in. We need to head over to Hayden’s place.
Kay is the one to break the silence. “We should go save Hayden from his existential terror.”
I know it’s mean to snort, but I do. Poor Hayden. I pull Kay closer. “I know you’re right.”
Kay props himself up, eyes still glazed and happy. “Seriously though, you should insure your tongue and fingers. Oh, and your dick.” He gives my thigh a pat.
We peel ourselves out of bed, and take a quick joint shower since Kay is wobbly as fuck after the orgasm I gave him.
I wish we could play around a bit, but we should probably go investigate Hayden’s place.
Reluctantly, we get dressed, then we’re out the door.
I’m glad Ken wasn’t in the living room or kitchen.
If she heard us I might die of embarrassment.