Chapter Ten #2
When the steady stream threatened to run dry, Iver nudged William’s prostate. William yelped, the quick, purposeful touch sending thrills through his hole. It pushed the fluid from his gland. Arousal leaked from his slit, where Iver eagerly licked it up.
William squirmed. He wanted more of that delightful pressure against his core. He didn’t have to wait long. The flow of precum ebbed off, and Iver probed him again, provoking a moan and a lustful trickle.
Before long, keeping up the stream required constant stimulation. Heavy, impassioned sounds poured out of William as Iver rubbed and stroked his most sensitive spot for the liquid he was so ravenous for.
William pulsed around the finger that lovingly brushed across his little knot of nerves. As the urgency in his loins escalated, he grew louder, more demanding. Iver was giving him more than before, but it was still a tickle, something that’d tease him right up to the brink without getting him over.
“Iver…” William whined.
He ignored him, intent on draining him to the last drop without allowing him to come. His fingertip traced his prostate, turning him into a fountain from which he drank. He tongued William’s slit, licking up each drop as it emerged.
Bit by bit, he increased the intensity of his caresses, going from tender swipes to more determined strokes.
William panted, the mounting arousal flushing his chest and face. Iver was turning him into his plaything, into something he could amuse himself with, indulging in the reactions William’s body produced for him.
His caress firmed, and he massaged his fingertip into William, each prod eliciting a slew of bodily responses.
“I can’t believe how swollen your gland still is,” Iver muttered, grinding his finger against it. “Especially with all the sex you’ve had.”
“I never let them touch me there.”
Iver pressed William’s prostate, triggering a spate and licking it up.
“You need to be milked thoroughly. It’s not good for you to keep all this fluid inside.
I should empty you every day.” He tapped him repeatedly, the attack leaving William shaking and groaning.
“Yes, you need this. You must be drained and made to orgasm until you can’t get up anymore.
It’s good for you. Healthy. Nobody should walk around with a prostate this swollen.
No wonder you were bedding a half dozen concubines but never satisfied. This will be remedied.”
William had no doubt. With the way Iver was caressing him toward insanity, there was no chance he’d be left unsatisfied.
Iver trailed his thumb over William’s plump sack, which had settled close to his body, taut with unspilled seed.
“Your balls are full too. You’ll need to come again.
” He gently rolled William’s sack in his hand.
The sensation was overwhelming. William had never been held so intimately, his most vulnerable body part enclosed and cradled.
Iver’s light touch was killing him. It was too personal, leaving him powerless. Iver held him in the palm of his hand.
Giving him no time to grow accustomed to the careful fondling, Iver flattened his tongue and dragged it across William’s wet, twitching tip. William clenched.
“Be good and feed me that sweet cum of yours,” Iver said.
William’s balls shuddered. Iver opened his mouth wide and pressed his tongue to the sensitive underside of William’s glans, putting himself in position to receive his seed.
The sight alone would’ve been enough to shove William over the edge. But there was Iver’s delicate hold on his sack and that heavenly finger that rubbed his pulsing prostate.
Iver’s skilled hands and tongue were going to make him come whether he wanted to or not. And God, he wanted it badly.
William bucked as orgasm slammed into him.
The first contraction was so powerful it drove the air from his lungs.
William couldn’t even shout as it boomed through him with the force of a tidal wave crashing onto shore, wiping everything out.
His mouth stood open in a silent scream, his gaze fixed on the white streaks of seed he shot onto Iver’s tongue.
His hole convulsed around Iver’s finger, squeezing and releasing it with a vengeance.
His balls pulsated in Iver’s palm, and his cock jerked and thrust as he violently unloaded in his mouth.
Iver fingered him, stroking his gland as it seized in climax, provoking ever fresh spurts of release that hit his waiting tongue. William writhed under the relentless attack, grunting with each squirt.
By the time his orgasm slowed to sweet aftershocks, he was dropping wanton, high-pitched moans that would’ve made his concubines blush.
As he came down from his high, Iver withdrew his finger halfway only to sneak a second one inside. The digits tunneled into him, bringing fresh faerie oil. They stretched him wide, wetting his every crease.
“I-Iver,” William moaned weakly. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was too good, too intense. Iver was going to wreck him.
Iver closed his mouth over William’s overstimulated glans. The heat. The wetness. The suction. William was in paradise.
“F-Fuck,” he whimpered. His toes curled in the warm water; his hands sank into Iver’s gorgeous, long locks and held him in place, held him to his cock.
Slowly, Iver rolled William’s balls, sending him into a full-body jerk at the onslaught of pleasure.
He was going to make him come again. Damn.
William was used to going several rounds, but not in such quick succession.
Not with this intensity. Yes, he’d had sex in the grotto before, but never had he had sex like this.
Iver was taking him apart, shredding his defenses, conquering him mind, body and soul.
Iver had been right—fucking him in public had been one kind of surrender, this was another. At the next lick, William soared in ecstasy.
Back and forth, Iver rubbed his gland, William responding with involuntary convulsions. He constricted, pressing Iver into his sweet spot.
“Yesss,” William moaned, hands tightening in Iver’s hair. “You’re going to make me fucking come again.”
Iver suckled his glans, regarding him intently. His eyes were dark and blazing with lust. Inside his mouth, William throbbed with renewed need. Any precum he spilled ran directly onto Iver’s tongue, and when Iver swallowed around him, William almost passed out.
Iver knocked his prostate.
“Fuck!” William’s legs trembled. Iver caressed every part of him, filling and enfolding him in rapturous ways. The only thing William wanted was to slide farther into Iver’s mouth and fuck his throat.
“Suck me deeper,” William pleaded. “Suck me into your mouth.”
When Iver didn’t react, William thrust. Iver’s gaze flared in warning. Teeth grazed him.
A shiver ran down William’s spine at the hint of pain, and he eased away. He’d better keep his hips locked in place if he didn’t want Iver to bite him. Though… Iver wouldn’t do that, right? Would he? One never knew with those dark fae.
Iver resumed sucking his cockhead, tongue playing along the underside while his hand rolled William’s balls and his fingers mercilessly swept his prostate.
William whined as bliss crashed into him. Iver was everywhere, taking him higher. William was putty in his hands.
That clever tongue stroked him just right while Iver’s lips applied consummate suction.
Heat ignited in William’s core. Pleasure mounted, and soon, he was blind with it.
Nothing mattered but Iver’s relentless sucking and prodding.
It drove him wild. His hands were fists in Iver’s hair, his muscles shaking with strain.
It was too much, and it wasn’t enough, and William wanted it to never end.
Iver rubbed him, massaging his digits into that unspeakably sensitive place. William keened and sluiced precum into his willing mouth. Iver swallowed it, pulling a broken little noise from him.
God, he wanted to come in that mouth. He wanted to spill his seed on Iver’s perfect pink tongue while those soft lips sealed around him, shielding him from the world.
Iver kneaded William’s love spot, every caress causing his muscles to shudder and his cock to drool. If William had known that having Iver up his ass felt this good, he would’ve sought him out years ago and offered himself as a human sacrifice to be pounded and ravished.
Iver sped up, his fingertips vibrating against William’s core. Fuck, he wanted more, needed to be deep inside his throat, but he wasn’t going to get that.
Iver lashed his prostate, and William’s hole clamped down on him. There was no stopping this divine assault. William cried out, bucking and thrashing as Iver nailed him. His rhythm never faltered, and with supernatural speed, he brought William to the brink.
William groaned, his legs spreading wider.
Every muscle shook with tension. His hold on Iver’s head turned brutal.
He wasn’t allowed to withdraw with William this close to release.
Iver did not attempt to withdraw. He sucked William with unwavering dedication, and when William gave an enraptured shout and his insides compressed around Iver’s fingers, he stroked him faster.
Fingered and sucked to orgasm, William broke out into long, impassioned moans as he came in Iver’s mouth.
His insides contracted, clenching and unclenching on Iver’s digits, which never ceased massaging him.
His balls convulsed, rejoicing in Iver’s protective hold.
Every part of him unraveled as he shot his seed onto Iver’s tongue.
Iver swallowed, each gulp firming his mouth’s suction on William, drawing new spurts from him.
Gush for gush he emptied, and when he had nothing more to give, he collapsed on the marble steps, languished by the power of his climax. Panting and lost in the afterglow, Iver’s movements only registered on the fringes of his consciousness.