Table for Two #2
Jo saves the day by sliding their meal onto the table before rolling away on her skates. The fries look crispy, and the whipped cream slides down the side of the unmistakably phallic-shaped glass. It inspires Rowan. “Lick that up, cutie.”
Luca reaches for the glass with his hands, and Rowan stops him with a hand on his knee. “No hands.”
He goes to his knees, placing his elbows on the table. Leaning forward, he touches the tip of his tongue to the melting cream, licking it slowly like an ice cream cone.
Rowan finds it hard to decide what he wants to do next, overwhelmed by the urge to have it all at once.
But this is about control—for both him and Luca.
It’s about delaying his desires, stretching them out, savoring the burn and the renewed throb of his pulse in his cock.
It’s about giving this to Luca and making it unforgettable.
Unzipping his jeans, just as he’d done in the car, Rowan pulls his cock out. The relief is short-lived when Luca slides the back of his skirt up in a not-so-subtle invitation.
Thinking he should remind Luca who’s in charge, he gives that juicy butt a hard smack.
It’s loud in the room, and it draws several pairs of eyes.
They might look because of the noise, but they stay because Luca is so pretty, moaning as he licks the glass.
“You’re not being very subtle, Luc,” Rowan chuckles.
“Mmm, can I have a drink now?” He wiggles again.
Rowan can’t resist spanking him again on the lowest part of that ass three more times.
“Yes, I’m going to be busy back here. You can eat as much as you like, but two things.” He pauses so he knows he has his mate’s full attention. “You can come whenever you like, but I will be fucking you before we leave, and you will come then as well. And Luc?”
His mates eyes are already glazed, his lower lip caught between sharp white teeth. He’s vibrating with anticipation. “Yes, I want them to know I’m making you feel good. Loudly.”
“That won’t problem at all. You always make me feel good.”
“Okay, then lean into me for a minute; I’m going to need a bit more room.” He pulls Luca back onto his haunches on the bench and pushes the table slightly out of the way. Just enough room for him to put Luca between him and the very—unsurprisingly—sturdy table. “Up here.”
“On the table? Shit. Okay.” Soon, they have him situated—on his elbows and knees, with his belly pressed down. His back is arched in a sexy curve. “Can I use my hands for the food?”
Rowan smacks the juicy butt perfectly positioned in front of him. “Pardon me?”
“Oh! May I use my hands for the food…sir?”
“Yes, just your hands, though. No utensils.”
Now that Luca has his instructions and Rowan can hear him sucking on the milkshake’s straw, he can finally focus on the real meal—Luca’s beautiful ass. Round, juicy cheeks, still pink in places Gideon had warmed for him earlier—the white hand print has faded—and there’s not a bruise to be found.
But the bouncy cheeks are not the prize Rowan is after.
He wastes no time in pulling those cheeks apart so he can see Luca’s hole.
It’s shiny from the plug’s lube, and Rowan needs to feel it under his tongue.
It’s the flavor of artificial nondescript lube, salt, and pure Luca.
Tonguing around his hole, he slips in past the ring, sucking hard and grazing it with a fang.
There’s a gasp, a squeak, and Luca is pushing back against his face, trying to get him to push in deeper, suck harder. “More.”
“That’s it, cutie. Louder. I want them to hear you in the kitchen.” Rowan licks a stripe from his perineum to his tailbone before pushing his tongue in as far as he can, the feeling of Luca clenching down one of Rowan’s favorite things. He’d learned from the rim-master himself, Jay-fucking-Rhodes.
“So good, Ro. Fingers, too, please. Then you can fuck me.”
That sounds like the best idea Luca has had all day. Just thinking about pulling his mate back onto his cock and holding him up where the whole room can see them spurs him on.
But if he’s learned one thing from Gideon about playing with Luca like this, it’s that Luca is not the boss. Their beta likes to brat—and brat hard—but he loves a creative firm hand.
Leaning back, he smacks Luca’s ass, three times and then his hole once with two fingers. “You aren’t the boss, baby. Now say you’re sorry.”
“Ow, fuck. Ro,” Luca moans, but pushes back, a subtle request for more.
“Not until you apologize. Brats don’t get what they want.” He smacks his hole twice more just to see it turn bright pink and clench hard. “Only good girls get fucked, Luc. You know that.”
“Ow, ow, ow. I’m sorry. I’m a good girl. I promise.”
“Okay, one more chance, baby girl.”
Luca moans at the words.
“If you’re sure you can be good.”
Rowan uses both thumbs to pry his hole open, the plug had done its job and Luca’s hole is soft, but it wouldn’t be enough for Rowan’s cock. “You’re so tight.”
“I’m a good girl, sir.”
It’s the second time Luca’s called him sir, and while he’s not sure it’s the title he’s looking for long term, he appreciates the effort—wants to reward Luca for making the effort.
“I know you are. I need to open you up so I fuck you good and hard.”
He rubs two dry fingers down the crack of Luca’s ass before slapping his hole harder than before.
Luca must not be expecting it given that Rowan accepted his apology, and he squeals even louder. Rowan’s wolf growls, and he can’t resist sinking his teeth into Luca’s pink ass-cheek.
Reaching for the bottle of lube the club has so generously provided, he squirts some into the palm of his hand.
It’s red and smells weird, certainly not the high-quality stuff Gideon insists on at home.
It even tastes familiar, but there isn’t enough blood flow to his brain for him to place it.
Still, it does the job of slicking the way for Rowan’s tongue and now the two fingers he uses to slip into Luca’s puckered hole.
“Stings! Fuck, Ro!” Luca shakes and comes onto the table with a loud moan. “Ro, Ro, Ro.” His hole clenches on nothing when Ro pulls his fingers out, a little meanly.
“I could fuck you now, really make it sting. Hang on.”
He starts eating at his hole in earnest, regretting the weird lube as it hides Luca’s mocha flavor, and Rowan has to close his eyes so he doesn’t get weirded out by the color.
He lets the Wolf take over, nipping and sucking at Luca’s hole, and pushing three shaking fingers in, over and over until Luca comes for a second time, his shouts cutting through the din of other “diners” doing the same.
“Now. Now. Now.” Luca’s begging filters into Rowan’s brain finally, and he decides four fingers will have to do.
He eases Luca’s lax legs off the table so he can place his knees on either side of Rowan’s hips.
Pliant and shuddering, he’s covered in milkshake from the knocked-over glass.
He’s sucking three fingers into his mouth with strong pulls and whimpers.
He’s stunning, and Rowan wishes he had chosen the chair so he could see Luca’s face in the mirror and not the rest of the room. Next time.
Now, though, Rowan needs to come. “Ready, baby?” He whispers. There’s a moment where Luca doesn’t—can’t—get the words out before he nods and tries to help. “No. Let me. Just…Luc, this lube is shit. Don’t hurt yourself, yeah?”
His concern is met with a squeak and a squeeze to Rowan’s hand as he brings it up to his throat.
“No. I can’t see your face. I’m not doing that here. But I can just hold you this way?”
“Fuck me. I’m so empty and…Goddess, please, fuck me, sir.”
Rowan doesn’t answer, only uses his free hand to hold his cock up so Luca can ease the head past his sore rim. It burns—so hot, and the lube is shit, but it still feels beyond good. It’s perfect—tight on the head, and like a soft, sucking mouth as Luca takes every inch.
“Ohhhhh.” It’s drawn out and gets higher the lower he sinks his hips. He loses strength and control of his weight about halfway as gravity pulls him down. Again, Rowan wishes he could see Luca’s eyes roll back, his slack mouth, as his head lolls back onto Rowan’s shoulder.
When he moves his hand from Luca’s throat, his cock is deep—not knot deep—but deep enough that when he presses his hand to Luca’s smooth belly, he can feel his cock through the skin.
He can’t control his thrusting from this angle, and with his partner completely “down,” he needs more leverage to bring them both over the edge.
With a firm push, the table slides out farther, giving him space to grab, so instead of kneeling, Rowan uses his upper body strength to hold his mate around the thighs just above his knees.
It opens Luca’s legs to the room where anyone watching can see Rowan spear his mate open.
The couple at the soda fountain counter and the couple beside them have turned to watch, but Rowan refocuses on his performance, his pleasure, and his beautiful mate. He’s so proud that they’ll see how beautiful Luca is in his pleasure. That they’ll know how well Rowan loves Luca.
The thought sends sharp sparks down his spine, the pleasure building with each thrust and each squeak from Luca’s red lips. “So hot, baby girl. Fuck. Always so tight. So good, so good for me. Look at them watching me love you. They want to see you come again. Can you do that?”
With a final squeak, Luca comes again, shuddering like he’s being electrocuted.
The hard clench pulls Rowan over after him, and he sinks his Wolf’s fangs into Luca’s shoulder through his sweater, and his knot past his mate’s rim.
He’s lost to the burning pleasure shooting into every cell of his body.
He doesn’t let himself revel in Luca for long, a twinge of regret that he can’t curl up with him and lick the come from his skin because they’re out in the open.
The Wolf’s protective aggression ebbs and flows under his skin, forcing his knot down at record speed.
He’ll feed Luca his cheesecake and some water, and they can take their messy selves home for a hot tub and a nap.
His mate is still pliant, and he smells satisfied—if a bit weird from that lube. “Luc, let’s have some cheesecake, okay?”
“Okay. Feed me.”
Reaching for the cheesecake, he’s just able to slide it towards him. The server had thoughtfully placed the dessert fork on the side of the plate. “You were so good, Luc. You okay?”
“I feel great. We need to do this again.”
“Hell yeah. But we are bringing our own lube next time. Theirs is absolute shit.”
“I did. It’s in my ba—oh shit, it’s still in the car.” Luca’s bag is in the trunk of the car, with the stuff from Crafternoon Delight. “If it’s still in the car, what did you—”
Simultaneously, their eyes catch on the conveniently placed squeeze bottle that Rowan had used.
Oh shit. “You can’t tell them.”
Luca’s horrified gasp is loud in the room as he picks up the bottle, clearly labeled: ketchup.