20. Peter Is Addicted
20
Peter Is Addicted
K it is addictive and I can’t seem to keep my hands off him.
After spanking Kit, which might be one of the hottest things I’ve ever done with any person, I lead him back to his bedroom and lay him face down. The skin on his gorgeous ass is a deep pink bordering on crimson. I climb onto the bed behind him and liberate Kit from his clothes. I want to rip every last shred of fabric that hides his body from me, but I don’t. Kit would hate that, and I’m also not sure it’s possible to tear off a wool sweater with just bare hands. Instead, I undress him carefully and he is loose and pliant in my hands. The only sound from him is an occasional hum of contentment.
He hates it when I call him Kitten, or at least pretends he does, but that’s what Kristoff is. If he had the ability to purr, it would be rumbling out of his chest and vibrating through his throat.
I’m too impatient to touch Kit so I leave my clothes—or rather my borrowed clothes—on. I cup the globes of his reddened ass with my hands then bury my face in all that heat. Kit moans, in pain or pleasure or both, and I can’t get enough of it.
I’ve spanked my partners before when they told me they wanted or needed it, but it’s never been my kink, and those relationships never lasted long. Although I love being in power, spanking someone just didn’t flip all my switches. I’m not sure why it’s different with Kit, but I can feel deeply that it is. Bringing him pleasure gives me pleasure in return—that’s nothing new—but my own obsession with Kit’s marked body is.
I have no desire to push Kit past his limits, should we ever get there, but I can’t deny the primitive primal urge to have the world see that he’s mine— every last inch of him. Every bruise, stretch of hot skin, and every scratch on his perfect body belongs to me. I want everyone to know that I’m the only man who can give Kristoff Minola what he needs.
It's more than a little scary, I’ll be honest. It’s a metric fuckton of scary but all I want is more and more and more. Even more terrifying is my need for Kit to claim me as I have claimed him. It wasn’t my intention to catch feelings for Kit, or at least not like this. I vowed to myself that I’d give back to him in equal measure to what I took but I never intended this. There is little I wouldn’t do just to see Kit smile. If that brilliant mind of his puts all the pieces together and realizes I need him far more than he could ever need me, I’m well and truly fucked.
Unless I can make him fall in love with me. It’s laughable. Cold, sharp, and deadly like an icicle, Kit Minola doesn’t love anyone. Everyone knows that—everyone except me. I will make Kristoff love me so hard he can’t imagine life without me in it. It’s the only outcome I’ll accept.
That’s my endgame, but for now I’m content with ensuring Kit becomes addicted to my touch.
Tonight, I’m going to make Kit beg for release and tomorrow I’m taking his ass at least once. More than once if I can get away with it. Then we’ll go to work on Monday, and I have no fucking clue what happens then, but that’s a problem for Monday. In the short run the only item on my to-do list is the man sprawled out underneath me.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard it’ll hurt every time you sit for at least a week,” I tell him confidently.
“Oh god,” Kit gasps. He sounds scared, but he also pushes his ass against my seeking hands. “Want… need… inside me.”
“Patience, Kitten, we’ll get there. Now spread those pretty legs of yours really wide. Show me that sexy hole of yours.”
Kit reaches back and spreads his cheeks for me, his hands digging hard into his reddened sore flesh. It’s got to hurt but he doesn’t let up. “Need you inside me,” he insists.
I give Kit’s thigh a hard, stinging slap. “Be good and take what you’re given. Now hold still.”
He practically wails in frustration but holds as still as he can. My plan was to open Kit up with my fingers until he was ready, but I’ve got different plans now. I want so many things, including sinking my cock into Kit’s tight hole, but I promised I’d take this slow no matter how much it kills me. Instead, I give into another temptation and taste him again.
Kit’s moans are lovely, almost like music. My mouth is too occupied to talk but I soothe and comfort Kit with my hands while my tongue teases and laps at his tiny rosebud of a hole. I don’t want to take things slow just to torture Kit. I need to take them slow, or I’ll tear him in half with my cock. It's one thing to dish out pain with desire. It’s something else entirely to harm Kit intentionally. If he’s mine, and he is whether he realizes it or not, then I need to take care of him. That includes a lot, but especially my cock in his ass.
“Fuck me, please, fuck me,” Kit begs.
“No, and if you keep whining about it I’ll put a cage on your cock then throw away the key. You want to come sometime this century, Kitten? Then be good.”
Kit growls at me but that’s good enough. I go back to my all-I-can-eat Kit buffet, determined to get my money’s worth. One of these days I’m gonna tie him up, fuck him full of my cum, then eat him out until I’m ready to go again. Rinse and repeat until one of us collapses or dies. I can’t wait to tell him that, but it’ll have to be later. It’s rude to talk with your mouth full.
When I realize I’m sweating my ass off, I pull away from Kit long enough to strip myself bare, ignoring his cute little protests. Sorry, baby, but if I don’t get naked soon, I’m going to keel over and die.
“Please tell me that cute little black bag has lube in it,” I say, feeling a million times better with no clothes on.
Kit grunts and I take that as a yes.
I give him a light swat on his hip. “You can let go and relax, Kitten. I’ll be right back.”
Kit goes completely limp and collapses onto the bed with a groan. “Can I please come?” he asks in this tiny little voice like Oliver Twist begging for more gruel.
“You already came, greedy boy. Now it’s my turn.”
Kit sighs loudly but is smart enough not to protest. I will totally put his cock in a cage if he keeps pushing me, but I’d never really throw away the key. I might pretend to, though, if I think Kit deserves it.
Humming cheerfully, I go to retrieve the lube from the kitchen only to get a huge amount of side-eye from the three cats. “Shut up,” I tell them. “We’re two consenting adults. Go judge someone else.” They just keep staring at me, so I add, “Look, kids. Your dad really needs me to fuck him stupid. He’s way overdue, and I know you don’t get it because none of you still have balls, but trust me, boys, daddy Kit will be fine. More than fine by the time I’m done with him.”
“Are you talking to my cats?”
I whip around to see a gloriously naked Kit standing just behind me. I put my hand on my heart. “Fuck, Kit, don’t do that. I about had a heart attack, and you’re supposed to be in bed.”
“You were talking to my cats, weren’t you? I heard you telling them I’d be fine.”
“You will be once you’re riding my cock.”
Kit shivers and his nipples harden into stiff buds. “Why were you assuring my cats I’d be fine?” He steps close and winds his arms around my neck.
For a second, my mind goes blank. All I can see is Kit’s beautiful mouth and all I want is to see how it tastes. I can’t, though. I promised him I wouldn’t, so instead I focus and attempt to answer Kit’s question.
“They seemed concerned about you.”
Kit laughs and rests his forehead against mine. “You’re such a fraud, Peter Verona.”
I open my mouth to protest but nothing comes out because my Kit is kissing me.