Chapter Sixteen #2
Instead, he walks slowly towards me and sinks to his knees right in front of me.
Before I can show my shock, his hands rest on my thighs, moving up, up, and up.
He leans forward and nuzzles around my dick.
All the blood from my body flows down so quickly, I’m surprised I’m still standing.
But my dick is definitely standing in anticipation.
The sight of Elliot, eyes closed, face rubbing against the black fabric, makes me feel heavy with desire and power. “Pull it out,” I say, my voice low.
This time, he follows, his hands coming around to my sides, pulling my boxer briefs down until my cock is pointed at his face.
Elliot moans quietly, but I hear it. That’s all I hear before he’s taking me in his hand. He licks around the head, making me groan. He swirls his tongue around, lighting every nerve on fire at his wake. His other hand moves down to my balls. He plays with them while slowly swallowing me in.
The sensation of wet heat engulfing me makes me clutch his hair. He pulls back when it’s halfway in, his tongue licking my cock on the way. He dips his tongue into the slit after he drags my cock out.
My body jerks at the sensation, but then he’s swallowing me down again, this time deeper. Tighter.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” I growl.
He makes a work of licking and deep throating me, showing off. He looks up at me, lips red and stretched wide, eyes glassy. He pulls me in, then out, until he swallows my entire length.
“Jesus, Elliot. So good.”
Fuck, no one has ever been able to do that to me.
His movements become rhythmic, measured. His hands move to my ass, encouraging me to thrust. I test out a small one. He moans.
So, I thrust again. Harder. I set a slow rhythm fucking into his mouth. When the sight of his face, so open, so hot, and the feeling of pushing into tight heat becomes too much, I increase the pace. His hand travels up, fingers scraping lightly over my skin.
“You take me so well. Fuck, Elliot,” I groan. I push into him again and again until I feel a tingle going up my spine. “Gonna come,” I warn, trying to pull away.
Elliot doesn’t let me, taking me back in. I come inside his throat. Only a little bit makes it to his mouth.
He rests his head on my thigh while I try to get my breath and soul back. “Setting that standard might be the cruelest thing you’ve done to me,” I complain with a shivering breath.
He laughs, teeth on display. Fuck, he’s beautiful.
“Lie down,” I jerk my head towards the bed. “My turn.”
“You don’t have to,” he offers.
“Fuck off.” I pull him up and unbutton his pants. “Take them off and lie down on the bed, Elliot.”
This time he does. I look at him, all tight soft skin and dark hair against the grey sheet. He’s leaning against the wall, his eyes look bigger, and his lips bruised. I want to lick every inch of his body.
Later. Right now, the man looks a minute from blowing up, then falling asleep for a week. I crawl up to his face and sneak in a peck on his lips, which inevitably heats up.
I lean back. I’m on a mission here.
I kiss and lick down his body, tasting the skin and heat. I pull down his boxer briefs.
His dick springs up, head purple with anger. I don’t let the size intimidate me. I swallow, then hold the base with my hand, soft, velvety skin against my rough ones. It makes me realize, I should have gotten some lube.
Too late, we’re doing this. I lick the head. The salty, bitter taste of his precum coats my tongue.
Fuck, I love this. I lick down his dick, letting my saliva pool around.
“That’s right,” Elliot groans, his voice tight and restrained.
I look up at his scrunched face, taking his cock inside my mouth. I take as much as I can, using my hand to cover the rest.
I jerk him off and fuck my mouth on his dick. He stays still, only breaking the silence with expletives and compliments.
“Fuck, Nicholas. Yes, just like that,” he moans.
He throws his head back, his hands coming up to my head. He leaves them there, carding through my hair slowly, letting me set the pace.
I increase the speed, encouraged by his reaction.
Then he’s pulling at my hair. I look up at him, his expression tight. He’d deck me if I called him beautiful to his face, but that’s what he looks right now. Like a picture I’d frame and keep in my bedroom. Except it’ll go with every decor.
“Gonna come, you idiot,” he warns.
I take him as deep as I can. His cum floods my mouth, some seeping out. I swallow as much as I can. It’s perfect. Sweet. Bitter. Him.
Elliot looks a second from slumber. So peaceful.
I get up to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. I leave the bed quickly to hide my cock that’s hard again. Werewolf refraction periods are a joke. But I think I’d be hard even without that after watching Elliot look at me with that expression.
I pull up the first pair of loose sweatpants I find in my closet on the way.
I come back to Elliot’s eyes closed. I stare at him for a second before remembering he’d be so mean to me and will probably accuse me of being in love with him if he catches me.
So, I throw the washcloth on his chest. Gently.
He startles awake. “I’m up,” he yells.
I laugh. “Well, you don’t have to be, but clean up before sleeping, or the shower tomorrow won’t be fun.” I lie down beside him.
He snorts and cleans up. “I’ll be out of your hair in a second,” he says, trying to get up.
Yeah, that’s not happening. “You’re not driving when you fell asleep after I blew your mind,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes. “You were okay at best. But we’ll get you there,” he pats my head.
I ignore his goading. “Still doesn’t mean you should drive.”
“I’ll be fine,” he says.
I’m shaking my head before he even finishes. “You won’t be. C’mon, man. Don’t be stupid. Take the guest room if you don’t want to sleep with me,” I offer. I ignore the pang of disappointment making its way up.
He groans.
“I promise I won’t fall in love with you if we share a bed,” I assure him sincerely.
He laughs, a small huff, but it makes me feel like I won a lottery. “You’re not a cuddler, are you?” He scrunches his nose.
I move away from him. “One hand distance all night, I promise.”
He throws the washcloth on the floor and lies back down after pulling his boxer briefs up. He’s snoozing within seconds, his breath even and slow. I listen to it for a while until it lulls me to sleep too.
***
I broke my promise. To be honest, I knew I would as soon as I uttered the words. I peel my arms away from Elliot’s body pressed against me.
He murmurs something about cheese and ink against my chest. I go still.
When he doesn’t say anything else, I pull back all the way. He turns on his stomach but doesn’t move after that. I breathe a sigh of relief.
Crisis averted.
I check the time. Five. I don’t wake up this early unless I absolutely have to. And lucky for me, I have to a lot. But I feel well rested and wide awake.
So, might as well get up and take Mickey out.
He’s a bit startled when I wake him, but gamely toddles out for a walk. We make it a quick one. I have a guest and a load of confidential files and boards at home.
Elliot is still sound asleep when I return. I make sure to close the doors softly behind me. It was a struggle to keep Mickey out of the bedroom, but if I have to be here, he does too.
I start the coffee machine after bribing Mickey with food.
I downloaded Whack-A-Wolf on my phone yesterday. Hated every second of it. Things you do to solve murder cases of degenerates.
I take my cup of coffee and phone to the couch. It’s wise to keep my office locked right now.
I open the stupid app. The amazing thing is that the chat history is available to everyone, no matter when they join the game. So I won’t have to sneak one of the victim’s phones out or get someone from the Bureau to hack the app.
I was right that they didn’t ask a lot of information for registration. Just a full name and location. I bet most people fudge the response. Like I did. But Tyler and Nathaniel didn’t. And now they’re dead.
The answer to why might lie here. So, I lean back and start reading through the deplorable texts.
Despite the coffee, I have a headache by hour two. I don’t know how kids these days spend hours with their heads buried in their phones. But they’re probably not reading straight-up hate being spouted by stupid, bigoted people. Oh wait…
Still, it’s definitely not for me. Time for a break. I saunter to the kitchen. Would Elliot like waffles? Or is he more of a pancake person?
Pancakes. Definitely pancakes. I nod and get to work.
Half an hour later, a bleary and confused-looking Elliot walks out of the bedroom.
He’s wearing last night’s rumpled clothes, and his eyes are narrowed in a slit.
He looks like he’ll bite my head off if I say anything.
And from his many, many conversations I’ve overheard with drive-thru attendants, I know for a fact he will.
So I pour coffee in a cup, a lot of it, and slide it onto the counter where Elliot is still standing, scowling at the wall. Even Mickey is wary of him, staying tucked in his spot under a stool. I’ve trained him well.
Elliot snatches the cup before I take my hand back. I smile and flip the pancake. I add extra butter. Elliot can use it.
After a few sips, he nods appreciatively.
“Breakfast?” I test.
He looks up at me and blinks. “You made pancakes?” he asks delightedly.
I nod at him. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, and I’ll make you a plate. Spare is in the cabinet.”
He puts the cup down and drags himself back to the bedroom. I glance at the cup. Empty. That was quick.
I stack some pancakes for him and make twice as many for myself. I carry the plates and maple syrup to the coffee table. I refill Elliot’s cup, too.
When he sits down, he’s still quiet and slow. He picks up his plate and drizzles a little bit of syrup on it.
I should strike when the iron is hot. “I got up way too early. So, I wasted time playing this new game I downloaded. Whack-A-Wolf. Have you heard of it?”
He swallows his bite. “I grew out of playing mobile games when I turned ten,” he says dryly
Good to know a little bit of normal Elliot is seeping back on the surface already. Maybe it was the one and a half cups of coffee. Anyway, he clearly didn’t react to the “wolf” in that stupid name at all.
Why are you lying, Elliot? And why are you so good at it?