Chapter 5 #3
“Hold on,” he pleaded after a moment. “Hold on, hold on.”
I lifted off of him, looking up along the slope of his body to his adorable face.
“Are you close already?” I asked him, leaving an edge in my voice. “I’m nowhere near done with you, Cirian.”
His chest heaved as he looked at me, his breathing coming in rasps. He was nearly out of his mind, his skin burning hot against mine. He needed release. I wanted him to come undone. To break apart at my touch. It was what he was made for.
“Robe,” he finally managed, lifting his head from the sofa cushion. “Check the pocket.”
I pulled myself away long enough to find the discarded garment, then probed the pocket. A small glass phial fell into my hand, a viscous oil sloshing within. When I looked back at Cirian, he’d already turned away from me on the sofa, arching his back to present his ass.
“Is this what you want?” I asked, rising to my feet with the phial in hand.
He nodded, his face buried into the cushion, and wiggled his hips in a desperate display.
“Hmm. I don’t know if you’ve earned the reward you’re asking for.”
Cirian removed himself from the cushion to glance over his shoulder. “Please, Bast. I can’t take it anymore.”
I stepped forward, bringing my hand down on the mound of his ass with a smack. He let out another whimper.
“You’ll have to ask better than that.”
“Please, Bastien,” Cirian spoke, eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “I want you. I need you.”
“That’s better,” I told him, removing the stopper from the phial and pouring a drizzle of the clear liquid directly between the mounds of his ass.
He jerked as the cold oil trailed down the crevasse, burying his head into the cushion once again.
I trailed a finger down the river of slick, guiding it toward the destination of his waiting hole.
With gentle pressure, I pressed into him, the stretch of his muscle tight against my finger as it worked inside.
A muffled groan told me that this would be slow work. Cirian may have been eager, but he was obviously suffering from the same neglect I had felt over the past months. He would need to be prepped for the task at hand, and luckily for him, I took no greater pleasure than the work of preparation.
More oil from the phial and I inserted my finger once again, the squeeze of his hole slightly less intense as I pushed deeper into the warmth of him. Reaching forward with my unoccupied hand, I seized a fistful of his auburn hair, tugging until his head dislodged from the cushions.
“Don’t deny me the fruits of my labor. I want to hear you, Cirian.”
He glanced over a shoulder flushed with color. “Such a change of heart. You’ve told me repeatedly to keep quiet today.”
“There is a time and place for everything,” I replied, working my finger in a circular motion till he let out a pent breath. “Let this be the place. Let this be the time. I will make you break, and then I will make you mine.”
Cirian groaned as I tightened my fist, pulling him backward.
“Gods, do whatever you want, Bast. Just don’t stop.”
That was all the permission I needed, and I added a second finger into the warm embrace of his hole.
Cirian did not hide himself from me again as I stretched him, and after a third finger, his hips began to move with an urgency that I could hardly match.
His back was a masterpiece, sprawled open for me to marvel at the way the low light glistened off the smooth, alabaster muscles.
The curve of his hips as he arched, giving himself over completely to the pleasure of our task.
And with each passing moment, the urge to bury myself inside of him threatened to overwhelm me.
Abruptly, Cirian collapsed forward onto the sofa, turning over on his side to glance up at me with dark eyes clouded with lust.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, worried that I may have pushed a limit in my eagerness.
He turned over completely, wrapping both legs around my waist and pulling me closer so that our cocks collided, sending waves of pleasure up my spine.
“No,” Cirian answered, the strength of his legs holding me in place. “I’m just tired of waiting.”
“Are you certain?” I asked despite the debilitating want burning in my gut.
He lifted himself onto his elbows, tossing strands of hair from his eyes as he stared me down. “Stick your cock in me this instant, Bastien, or I’m going to pin you down and do it myself.”
I rolled my hips till I felt the head of my cock graze his entrance, a noise somewhere between whimper and groan escaping his lips. Carefully, I leaned my weight forward, releasing a hiss through my teeth as his warmth enveloped me.
“There,” Cirian muttered, eyes closed, and brow furrowed as though he were contemplating some vexing equation. The hold of his legs tightened around me, preventing me from moving. “Stay right there.”
It was all I could do not to give myself over to the rising crest of pleasure right then and there. But instead, I matched my breathing to Cirian’s, observing the rise and fall of his chest as our two bodies became one for the first time.
I had never been one to dwell over the entanglement of physical and emotional needs.
I had my share of partners over the years who had provided one or the other, and in the rare case, both.
With Cirian, I always assumed that our attraction was something physical.
Our bodies reacting to pheromones and visual stimuli, pushing us towards one another despite the tumultuous nature of our relationship.
But as I stood, hunched over him with my cock buried deep inside, a whisper of that tenuous green filament materialized between us, connecting his chest with mine.
Stay with me. Don’t leave. Don’t go away.
The words echoed through my mind, rippling out like a pond disturbed by a stone.
“I’m here,” I found myself saying, looking into those fathomless eyes as they grew wide. “I’m right here, Cirian.”
He reached for me, impossibly long arms wrapping around my neck to draw me down to him.
The thread between us glowed ever brighter the closer I became, a flash of green emanating as our chests collided and our lips met.
Cirian was desperate against my tongue, formless words vibrating from his throat as we kissed, and the grip of his legs lessened enough to allow me to move.
I pumped my cock once, and those words dissolved against my tongue.
Stars burst into my vision as I set a steady pace, the sounds of our bodies colliding filling the room around us. Cirian’s cock pressed against me, rigid and leaking, with each stroke, and as his lips broke from mine, the noises that crossed his tongue twisted my insides like brambles.
My hands scooped under his thighs, pressing them back till his knees hit his chest, giving me a better angle to go deeper with my thrust.
“Fuck, Bast,” Cirian groaned, his hand falling to grip the base of his cock, the head of which shimmered with the proof of his pleasure. “Keep going. I can’t—I won’t last much longer.”
“Don’t hold back,” I told him, keeping my pace steady. “I want to watch you break. Come undone with my cock buried deep inside you.”
“Yes,” breathed Cirian. “Keep going, Bast.”
I was close. And so was he. I could feel him tightening around my shaft, his body preparing for the hard-earned release he sought. I would ensure that he got every bit of pleasure I could coax from him before I would give in to my own.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck. Bast, I—I’m—”
His beautiful cock twitched, the grip of his hole clamping down on mine as he released ribbon after ribbon of white across his stomach and chest. I slowed my motions, continuing to grind against that spot within him that made his toes curl as he rode the wave of pleasure to its finale.
When at last his cock stilled, and his breathing returned to a relatively normal pace, I asked him, “Should I pull out?”
Cirian shook his head. “Don’t you dare. I’m not leaving this sofa without your seed inside of me.”
Those words nearly caused me to release on the spot.
Cirian exhaled a long sigh, spreading his legs once more and wrapping them around me, this time with a much gentler pressure.
“You heard me, Bast. Inside. I want it all.”
I nodded, reestablishing my pace. Cirian held my gaze, muttering encouragement as I drew closer to climax. His abdomen glistened with sweat and the slick of his seed, his cock half-hard now, flopping against his stomach in a steady rhythm.
With a final thrust, I buried myself within him with a grunt, the spasm of hot pleasure taking hold as I crested over the edge. Cirian reached for me, wrapping his arms around my sternum and pressing himself into me as I rode the waves of pleasure.
The heat of his skin against mine was a comfort, and he nibbled at my ear. Completely spent, I collapsed on top of him, my cock still sheathed inside.
“Do you still think I’m a wet blanket?” I asked him once I’d caught my breath.
He grinned up at me.
“Not nearly as wet as I am. Come. I’ll draw another bath.”