Chapter Twenty-Five #2
Ash surged forward, and Rick caught him, rough fists bunching in his shirt as their mouths collided with a force that rattled teeth.
It wasn’t a kiss. It was an earthquake. A car crash.
A goddamn supernova. Ash moaned into it, half-lost already, lips parting for the brutal crush of Rick’s mouth as their tongues tangled, sloppy and ravenous.
His knees nearly gave out from the sheer need of it.
Rick kissed him back like a man who’d waited too long, a man gone feral from the hunger. Like Ash was the first mouth he’d ever tasted and the last he’d ever need.
They broke apart for air, panting, but only for a breath.
Ash leaned back in, lips swollen, eyes glazed.
Rick yanked him in again, rumbling deep in his chest, devouring him all over.
Their bodies slammed into the kitchen counter with a thud, dishes rattling from the impact, then careened into the wall.
Brick chafed behind Ash’s spine as Rick pinned him there, all brute muscle and violent heat, grinding against him with shameless friction.
Ash’s head struck the cabinet, and he gasped, a flicker of pain swallowed by the flood of want.
“Fuck,” Ash breathed. “Do that again.”
Rick obeyed with a growl, hitching him higher by the hips, rutting up against him until Ash could feel the thick ridge of his cock pressing through their clothes.
Rick’s hands bruised over his jeans, his palms so big they could span both of Ash’s ass cheeks at once, fingers digging into flesh like claws.
Their mouths couldn’t stay apart. Every pause was just a gasp, a word, a groan—then more kissing, deeper, wetter, hotter. Ash’s lips were slick, his chin soaked. Rick bit him, licked him, kissed him again and again like he was starving.
When Rick’s mouth finally broke away to trail along his neck—scraping with stubble, nipping little marks—Ash tipped his head with a low groan, baring his throat without thinking, without caring. His hand slid down to Rick’s fly and tugged.
“Wait.” Rick faltered, panting into his neck. “I—I have to warn you…”
Ash’s hand didn’t stop. “About what?”
“I’m kind of… big.”
“I kind of noticed,” Ash murmured, palming the swollen bulge and getting a strangled sound out of Rick.
“No—you don’t get it,” Rick rasped. “I’m too big. People say it hurts. That it’s too much. I… I don’t want to ruin this.”
Ash finally paused and blinked up at him, breathless, flushed. “Honey, I’ve seen them all: big, small, and every shape in between. I rode two at once only yesterday. Unless you’ve got a second head on it, I’ll be fine.”
Rick opened his mouth, still unsure, then frowned. “What do you mean yesterday?”
But Ash was already sliding to his knees. “Shut up and let me have it.”
The wooden floor was cold beneath him, but Rick’s heat made up for it. Ash unzipped him with practiced ease, tugging off trousers and briefs in one smooth motion. What sprang free made his breath catch.
Rick’s cock wasn’t just big. It was gigantic.
A thick, uncut beast that jutted forward, heavy with blood, twitching as it hardened further right before his eyes.
Eleven inches, easily, and girthy enough that Ash couldn’t close his fist around it.
The foreskin still mostly sheathed the swollen head, even with how engorged he was. It looked brutal. Gorgeous. Impossible.
“Damn,” he whispered, grinning in awe. “You weren’t kidding.” He pressed his arm alongside it to measure, chuckling. “It’s the size of my fucking forearm! You’re in the wrong line of business, buddy.”
Rick reached down, embarrassed, trying to tug his briefs back up. “It’s fine. You don’t have to—”
Ash slapped his hand away. “Don’t you dare. You think this is something to be ashamed of? Oh, you poor, blessed idiot.” He leaned forward and gave the tip a lingering lick, tasting the slick of precum oozing from the slit.
Rick shuddered, letting out a sound somewhere between a moan and a growl.
Ash’s breath hitched as the heavy shaft slapped against his cheek, hot and damp, dragging wetness across his chin.
His grin only widened. He nuzzled into it, inhaling Rick’s musky scent, and slid lower, lips brushing sensitive flesh.
Below that veined monster, Rick’s heavy balls hung low and full, a smooth sac swollen with need.
Ash flicked his tongue along the seam between them, tracing it slowly. Rick’s thighs twitched. Ash mouthed one, then the other, pulling gently into his mouth, sucking with slow reverence, cheeks hollowing slightly. Above, Rick made a noise that sounded almost pained.
Ash licked again, pressing his nose into the dark thatch as he worshipped every inch. “You taste delicious,” he murmured against the hefty sac.
Rick gripped the counter behind him until it creaked.
Ash’s lips trailed back up the thick shaft. He nudged the underside, licking the sensitive ridge beneath the crown.
Rick nearly buckled. “Fuck—Ash…”
He didn’t answer, pulling the foreskin away with his lips to expose the glistening head.
Then he pushed it forward again, watching it roll back into place.
He sucked it between his lips and let his tongue slip under the hood, feeling the slick heat, velvet-soft.
Rick’s hand flew to the top of his head, curling in his hair.
Ash kept licking, slow, luxuriant laps around the flared crown, his spit mixing with the precum until the whole thing gleamed. He mouthed the head, letting it pop free with a wet sound that made Rick whimper.
Ash smiled up at him. “Now,” he said, hoarse and hungry, “let’s see how far down I can take it.”
He braced his hands on Rick’s thick, hairy thighs and opened his throat.
The head slipped in, followed by inch after inch of silken steel.
Ash breathed through his nose, jaw relaxed, body surrendering.
This wasn’t about skill. This was about control.
Worship. He took him deep, past his uvula, past his tonsils, until Rick’s cock was buried in his neck, his esophagus clenching tight and hot around it.
Rick let out a hoarse cry, hips jerking despite himself. His fingers clenched in Ash’s curls as he bottomed out, cock fully seated.
Ash’s throat burned, his eyes watered, but he didn’t stop.
He wanted Rick to lose it. To come undone.
To fall apart in his mouth and never forget the feel of it.
He swallowed around him, massaging the shaft with his larynx, lips stretched wide.
Spit dribbled down his chin, each motion slick, obscene.
Rick’s hands slipped from his hair to the counter again, bracing hard, his whole frame trembling. “Oh God,” he groaned. “Fuck… no one’s ever done that to me.”
Ash withdrew with a wet gasp, catching his breath, lips red and swollen. He looked up, teary-eyed, and smirked. “Good,” he said, voice hoarse. “You’ll have something to remember me by.” And he swallowed him again.
“Jesus, Ash,” Rick panted, hips beginning to buck helplessly. “I—I can’t… hold back anymore. You want me to come in your mouth?”
Ash hummed, the vibration sending Rick over the edge.
His whole body snapped taut. The first salty jet hit the back of Ash’s throat hard, followed by another, and another—thick, hot, endless. It poured down in pulses. Ash swallowed, again and again, but there was too much; cum spilled from his lips, smearing his chin with glossy streaks.
Rick’s cock throbbed in Ash’s mouth like it had its own heartbeat, spurting over and over.
He braced himself on the counter, legs trembling, head thrown back in a guttural roar.
Ash held on, lashes fluttering, throat stretched to the limit.
A tremor passed over him, and he came too, untouched, warmth blooming in his pants as pleasure roared all over him, sharp and shuddering.
By the time Rick’s orgasm slowed, Ash was breathless.
He pulled away with a wet pop, spit and cum dripping from his chin.
His eyelids were heavy, his smile drowsy.
Something warm fizzed through his veins—a rush like sweet liquor or the first drag of a cigarette on an empty stomach.
His body buzzed. His skin felt too tight for the heat inside him.
His pulse throbbed in his fingertips, behind his lids.
Euphoria swelled in his chest, soft and golden, rippling outward in slow, delicious waves.
It made him feel lit from the inside, like every nerve had been kissed awake.
He could still taste Rick on his tongue—salty, earthy, alive—and it only deepened the bliss, like some strange chemical he hadn’t known he craved.
Whatever Rick had just given him, Ash wanted more.
“Well,” he said, licking his lips. “That was fun.”
Rick towered above him, chest heaving, pants tangled at his feet, cock still rigid and glistening.
Without warning, he grabbed Ash by the arms and hauled him up, crashing their lips together in a kiss that was more filth than finesse, wet, sticky.
Their mouths slid and smeared, sharing breath, spit, and the taste of Rick’s cum between them.
Ash moaned low in his throat, drunk on it.
The kiss left his knees weak, and for a second, he thought he might actually float if not for Rick’s hands keeping him moored.
When they finally pulled apart, panting, Rick fixed him with that wolfish stare, the one that promised danger and delight in equal measure. “You think we’re done?” he rasped, eyes burning. “Not even close.”