21. Kristoff Likes Peter. A Lot
21
Kristoff Likes Peter. A Lot
W hen I hear Peter talking to someone in my kitchen I have to investigate. No one should be there, but his voice doesn’t sound either afraid or threatening. I think he might be trying to negotiate with someone.
Someone, it turns out, is Falstaff, Polonius, and Laertes.
“Are you talking to my cats?” I ask.
Peter whips around, one hand held dramatically to his heart. “Fuck, Kit, don’t do that. I about had a heart attack, and you’re supposed to be in bed.”
I roll my eyes at his attempt at evasion. “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,” Peter says, his voice full of filthy suggestion.
The timbre of his voice gives me a full body shiver. I want to ride Peter’s cock more than almost anything in this world. “Why were you assuring my cats I’d be fine?” Feeling brave, I step close to Peter and wind my arms around my neck. Being skin to skin with Peter is the best feeling in the entire world.
Peter stares at me blankly then says, “They seemed concerned about you.” I’d be concerned by his bland response if his cock wasn’t rock hard and pushing against me insistently.
I can’t help but laugh. I feel so light, like I could float out the window and up into space. He wants me. I can feel how much he wants me, but today I’ve learned something even more important. Peter likes me. Despite his charm and affability, I’ve gotten the impression that Peter genuinely cares for as few people as I do. It’s a strange thing to have in common with another person, but it’s nevertheless comforting. If Peter cares for me as much as I think he might, it’s significant.
I rest my forehead against his. “You’re such a fraud, Peter Verona.”
He opens his mouth to protest but before he can say anything, I kiss him.
When I told Peter I didn’t like kissing it wasn’t a lie. Kissing is terrifyingly intimate. It’s far more intimate that sucking a cock or eating ass or even having a man come inside me. I know it’s not something most people would agree with me on. Kissing is tame but cum in your ass is a huge deal, and I can see why most people feel that way, but I don’t. My therapist has suggested it might be a result of having so little affection as a child. I can’t remember my mother kissing me before she left, and I am positive my father never did. Grandfather loved me very much, but he wasn’t physically demonstrative. Only Nonna ever kissed me, but I don’t think it was enough to fill the gap.
When I kissed my first boy I was disappointed because it wasn’t anything like I’d imagined it would be. It was sloppy and quick and completely unsatisfying. Continued experience didn’t produce significantly better results. When I lost my virginity the best part was the man doing it wasn’t interested in kissing at all. Or foreplay. Or prepping me. It was incredibly painful, and I didn’t repeat the experience with him, or anyone else, for many years. By that time, my sex life consisted mostly of blow jobs and hand jobs from guys I found on Grindr.
My last relationship was with a nice man who made sure nothing hurt, and I had no way of explaining to him or myself why I found it dissatisfying. I thought, for a long time, that despite feeling desire I didn’t want actual sex. Not in the traditional sense. I found place where there were men who would hurt me just enough, but not too much. They didn’t want or expect intimacy or my affection. All they needed was my submission. I thought it was the perfect solution.
Then the worst man possible inserted himself into my life and wouldn’t leave me be. I couldn’t ignore him, and he wouldn’t be pushed away or kept at a distance. Before I knew it I was willing to let him do anything at all with my body. I didn’t worry about pain or humiliation because I knew that’s what I was signing up for and was resigned to it. Then everything went completely sideways.
He talked me into ditching work then took me to the Field museum. He held my hand and bought me a book about extinction events from the gift shop. Every time I looked at him there was a dopey smile on his face. I enjoyed every minute spent with him and none of it had anything to do with getting off. Peter and I had fun. With our clothes on. For hours.
I don’t hate my stepbrother. I like him. I like him a lot. There is a scary amount of like within me. I feel as if anything at all is possible. Peter might just like me back.
I want to kiss Peter in the worst—or best—conceivable way. Not because kissing is just a step on the path to sex or because it’s expected. I want the intimacy, even if it doesn’t go well.
It's been so long since I kissed another man that this almost feels like my first time, only a thousand percent better. I’m nervous and have no idea what I’m doing, but it doesn’t matter. Peter wraps his arms around me and takes the kiss over, leaving me free to just let it happen. I follow his lead, opening my mouth to him and letting him take whatever he wants. He can have it all, especially me.
Peter pulls his lips off mine but he’s still a breath away. I realize he’s pushed me up against the wall and he’s rubbing his cock along mine. “I could do this for hours,” he growls, then goes back to kissing me.
When he moves down to my jaw and then my neck, I tell him, “I’m pretty sure you could fuck and kiss me at the same time.”
“Such a demanding boy,” Peter croons. “My greedy kitten.”
“I will stop complaining about you calling me Kitten if you’d just fuck my ass with your cock. That’s my best and final offer.”
Peter laughs low and seductively against my ear then bites the lobe. The pain zings right to my cock and I swear I see stars. “I think those are terms we can agree on. Grab your goodie bag then get on your bed, ass up and face down.”
I try not to feel disappointed. I don’t even like kissing and now I’m disappointed that Peter’s not going to fuck me face to face.
My expression of disappointment must show how I feel because Peter gives my ass a hard slap that stings like a bitch and feels like heaven. “Just do what I say, Kitten, and I’ll give you everything you need.”
I do what the man says and before I know it he has three slick fingers inside me while his other hand fondles my balls. He starts fucking me hard with his fingers while stroking my cock and I know I’m going to come. I have no idea if he’s given me permission to do that or not, but I’m not going to ask and maybe he won’t remember either. As my climax creeps closer and closer my muscles stiffen, and my breath comes out in short hard bursts. I can feel it getting closer and closer. I’m right on the edge when Peter pulls away from me.
“Oh my god I fucking hate you,” I snarl. If Peter was close enough, I’d bite him.
He gives my already sore ass a few smart smacks. “Quit bitching. I never said I was going easy on you.”
“Fuck you. I hope you die and go to hell and get gangbanged by demons with enormous spiky dicks.”
Peter laughs so hard he collapses next to me and pulls me close. I can feel his cock digging into the cleft of my ass, but nowhere near the place I want him to be. “That is disturbingly specific,” he says. “Do you fantasize about demons with spiked dicks, Kitten?”
I probably will now. “Fuck you.”
Peter responds by using some kind of wrestling move that ends with him pinning me on my back. “Be a good kitten and I’ll let you come.”
I don’t know what that means. I only know I’m completely at his mercy. “Please.”
“Please what?” Peter slips a hand between my legs and fingers my ass. He strokes my slick hole then plunges two fingers inside me and finds my prostate easily. Maybe too easily, as he’s working it over to the point where I want to explode. “I suggest being specific.”
I suck in a deep breath then say in a rush, “Please stick your cock inside my hole and fuck me until at least one of us gets to come.”
Peter’s fingers slip out of me, and I whimper with both hope and disappointment. He’s opened me up so far that now I feel achingly empty. I need him to fill me up.
He comes back with an unwrapped condom that he slides down his cock. “Safety first,” he says cheerfully. He crawls between my legs, spreading them apart, then he pushes his cockhead inside my hole.
I go from feeling empty to being too full. It’s been too long, maybe, or he’s bigger than I realized, because my body is now screaming at me that now would be an excellent time to retreat. The heat, though, feels fantastic. And I think that given a minute to adjust to the girth inside me, everything is going to be fine.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” Peter moves inside me experimentally. “You want this slow or fast?”
I try to think which one would be better when he makes a sound like a buzzer. “Too late. We’re going with fast because I don’t think slow is in the cards.” Then he thrusts sharply inside me and for a second I feel like I’m being torn in half. Then he’s completely inside me and the pain morphs into a deep pleasure I’ve always wanted but never experienced.
This might be a Goldilocks thing. The first guy who fucked me was too big and didn’t know what he was doing. The second one was not so generously endowed and was so slow and gentle that it didn’t hurt, but I also didn’t experience much pleasure. Peter is perfect. Big, but not too big. Willing to let me feel the tiniest edge of pain in a way that won’t cause me harm. I’m pretty sure that now I’m ruined for all other dicks.
He takes one of my legs and pushes it up, letting him thrust deeper. With his other hand he fists my cock. He jacks me hard as he pistons in and out of my body. I’m completely helpless from sensory overload. He could do anything to me and I’d let him.
Anything turns out to be him pulling out of me, tossing the condom aside, then jacking his cock until he comes on my chest. Then he leans down, licks it off my skin, and kisses me. It’s filthy and wonderful but it’s not enough to distract me from still not coming.
When he comes up for air I push his head down my body. “Get me off or I’ll kill you.”
Peter huffs a laugh at me. “So bossy.” But he lets me guide his mouth to my cock. As he sucks, he pushes his fingers inside and pegs my prostate over and over like that’s his job. I come so quickly I’d be embarrassed if I didn’t feel so goddamned good.
I pull him up to me and this time the cum he feeds me is mine. We kiss as our hearts slow down to a normal rhythm. Eventually I say, “That was the best sex of my life. I might as well become celibate because it’ll never be as good with anyone else.”
“You’re never going to have sex with another man because no one can compare with my magnificent dick?”
I give Peter a playful shove. “Yes, you’ve ruined me for other men. I hope you’re happy now.”
“I am. Extremely.” That’s evident by how smug he sounds. “Guess that means you’ll have to keep letting me fuck you.”
I sigh heavily. “I suppose.”
“Good, because you’re mine and I’m terrible at sharing.”
You’re mine. He doesn’t mean it, but I want it to be true.. “I guess that means we’re stuck together.”
“Looks like it.”
“Forever?” I ask. That seems like a lot.
Peter gives me a hard kiss. “For the foreseeable future. Probably. Enough yapping. Let’s get ready for bed.”
I look at the watch that’s still on my wrist. “It’s not even nine o’clock and I’m not sleepy.” In fact, I feel like I could easily run a marathon, sore ass and all.
Peter kisses me again. “I didn’t say anything about sleeping, did I?”