Chapter 10 #3
“Ezra. Ezra.” He calls for me, before climbing on top until he’s in my lap, arms around my shoulders, ass on my hard dick, forehead pushing onto mine. He keeps saying my name like a soothing lullaby.
“I’m right here, Little Chick,” I whisper into his ear.
“I could have lost you,” he says after a long moment. His wet lashes are fanned out on his pink cheeks while he cries without making a sound once again. His tears are warm as they brush my face, but turn cool sliding down my skin.
“You didn’t,” I say, feeling all the anger from before rushing back up again. Not all tears are evil, but I only want to see him crying when my cock is in his ass.
Minutes pass with us remaining in the same position.
“I can hear you growling under your breath.” He sniffs, pushing his head back to look at me.
“It’s because I need you.” I thrust my hips upward to make him feel how much. A kiss won’t distract him this time, but my dick might.
Something flashes in his eyes. And suddenly my little chick turns into a tempting minx. He untangles his body from mine and stands up in the bathtub. Water falls down his body, creating wet patterns that seem to point to all his erogenous zones. It’s like the most potent aphrodisiac.
Before I can do anything, he gets out of the tub and moves toward the shower—that luscious ass bouncing with each step. Feet slightly slipping on the wet floor. He sends me a blazing look, a clear invitation in his eyes, before he gets into the shower stall and turns on the water.
The glass is clear so I can see everything he’s doing in there. When his hands start to wander, I relax back into the bathtub and decide to enjoy the view—for a while. That lean body, pink nipples, and parted lips have become my number-one jerking fantasy.
Instead of wrapping his hands around his hard length, he lifts his fingers to his mouth and starts to suck on them.
He isn’t looking at me; my little chick still gets shy at times, but his eyes have darkened with desire.
That mouth is surely enjoying being filled.
The water is beating down, covering the sounds he’s making, what a fucking pity that is.
He moves those slick fingers out of his mouth and pours soap on them before cramming two into his hole.
Fucking gorgeous. My cock starts dripping precum as I witness the sexiest live show I’ve ever experienced.
Sully is slightly bent, ass up, hand on the wall, while the other is working inside.
I imagine his hole stretched, wet with soap, but his fingers aren’t big enough, are they?
He needs something thicker, longer, ready to stuff it full.
I tear out of the tub and open the shower door with enough force to bounce it off the wall. With a high-pitched yelp, Sully jumps and flails his arms. I barely catch him before he slips.
He looks at me wide-eyed as I stalk all the way inside.
My eyes are fixed on him as I crowd him against the wall.
I barely feel the water hitting my back.
I trail my hand down over his stomach, feeling his muscles clench as I touch him.
I brush my fingers over his erection, and then slip them between his velvet-soft legs—stopping before I reach my target.
“Need some help?” I growl, feeling my voice rumbling inside my chest.
He nods, wraps his arms around my neck, and whimpers, “I feel aching inside without you.”
His reply is like a sledgehammer to my head, echoing again and again until every cell in my being soaks it up.
I shift closer, hemming him in against the wall, his back against the tiles.
I let two fingertips slip into his hole, and they go in without fucking resistance.
He gasps, spreading his legs as much as he can.
My hand looks big between his legs, like it shouldn’t fit there.
But it fucking does, oh, it does, because I’ve been training this hole. Personalizing it.
My other hand leaves the wall to press across his throat and pin him there.
“Sometimes you need to break something before you begin to fix it,” I hiss, shoving my fingers in so deep he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.
Fuck, he’s so hot when he cries and screams my name. He makes my blood boil and my hands itch. More touch, more taste, more Sully.
“Look at me while I fuck you open,” I command, twisting my fingers and screwing them almost brutally hard inside him. “I’ll fucking rip you in half if you don’t aim those eyes on me.”
He finally does, but I keep finger-fucking him ruthlessly as he moans eagerly for more. I thrust my hand deeper, pushing him up on his toes, as my other hand on his throat shifts to keep him up.
Our cocks are stroking against each other. His has a subtle curve to the left. Pink, hungry, and flushed like the rest of him. A drop of precum glistens on the tip, making my tongue shake for a taste.
His whole body judders against the tiles as he grabs onto my shoulders, nails digging in, clinging on for dear life.
Now I have three fingers pistoning inside him.
I adjust my hand, and with a snarl, I force a fourth one into his body.
His pupils dilate. His lips part. His hips push down, trying to get me deeper.
I’m finally holding him in the fucking palm of my hand. I envision the fat trunk of my cock squeezing into his dripping hole just like my fingers are doing, my balls swinging full of cum to fill him up until he begs me to stop.
When he’s meek like this, a slut for it, he makes me want to corrupt him, eat him all up, consume him.
My erection throbs as it rubs a sticky path over his belly, just that small amount of friction feels fucking amazing.
And those pointy nipples rocking up and down.
Jesus fuuuck. Something explodes inside me, and I attack his chest like a wild creature, sucking his tits into my mouth, raking my tongue up and down, biting and sucking again.
I gorge myself on them, my cock stroking against his body, as if I’m already inside his tight hole, molding it to my length.
His hips start jerking helplessly, his body seized up, and with my name on his lips, his hole clenches tightly around my hand. My eyes never leave his. Christ, he’s fucking gorgeous when he climaxes.
He slides against the tiles as the warm water falls down his body. We are surrounded by clouds of steam and the harsh panting of our breaths. His throat feels tight under my palm. Most of my hand is still half-buried inside his ass, slowly moving. Just to remind him who owns this body.
My fingers slide up from his throat, cupping his cheek.
Gaze drops to his lips as I run my thumb over the lower one.
Slowly and steadily, I withdraw my four fingers from his hole, letting his heels touch the ground again.
My cock stands up between us, hard, angry-looking, glistening with water and a few pearly-white traces of his cum.
He seems transfixed by the sight as he shudders.
I tug down his lower lip, pushing the tip of my thumb between his teeth to force his mouth open.
I pull it out again, rubbing it over his lip, rough and firm, showing him I can touch him any way I want.
I dip more thumb inside and press down on his wet, soft tongue.
It twirls around me, agonizingly slow, in a dirty, sexy movement.
He moans, and I see raw want in his pools.
The thumb slips out. My fingers clench around his hair, and I pull it back.
I look down at his bruised body, but I focus my attention on the bite mark on his shoulder. I lap at it and then lick up to his neck, sucking another hickey there. His leg wraps around my waist, and he shifts until the head of my cock rubs against his hole.
He rides it a little, rubbing his ass on it, getting the tip wet and slippery with soap.
“You want my dick up your ass?” I whisper darkly into his ear as I start breaching him. He holds himself still. We are both panting, and I’m drooling with the desire to push myself balls-deep into him. I need to vent the anger, the frustration I’ve been feeling since the explosion.
“You are my tight, wet fuckhole.” I tug him down an inch, and my aching dick pops inside. Yes, he’s fucking gaping for me.
Raw moans fall from his unhinged lips, and in one quick movement, I grab his hip and shove myself inside him, throwing my head back and groaning like a damn beast.
My cock is pulsing inside his squeezing channel, feeling like it has finally come home.
Now it wants to fucking play. I start driving it into his prostate like a sledgehammer.
He cries out and braces his hands on my pecs after I hook his other leg on my waist. I ram my hips up, fucking up into him, bouncing him on my cock.
But Sully doesn’t make me do all the work.
He shoves himself back down, hanging on, trying to meet my hard thrusts. It makes me reach even deeper.
“It feels so good,” he moans with hazy eyes, utterly lost to my rutting dick.
“Keep sucking my cock like a little bitch. Fuck yeah. Just like that,” I grit out, tightening my grip on his hair.
My ears are filled with the filthy sound of wet, joining flesh, while my heavy balls swing up, spanking his perfect ass every time I pound mercilessly into him. His body shakes, and he screams, jizz shooting out on my chest, hole squeezing me like a vise.
My stomach muscles clench, abs going rigid, and I feel lightheaded as bursts of cum explode out of my dick.
I groan and growl, drowned in ecstasy as I keep slamming into his thirsty hole.
I have an endless supply of spunk for him, filling him so full that I’m sure it will spill out.
Eventually, my balls turn empty, and I collapse against him, pushing him against the shower wall.
“I could fuck you uninterrupted twenty-four seven, Little Chick,” I pant. “So damn good.”