Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Kit’s entire body curled around him, weight shifting until Nick was supporting them both.
Kit’s movements pulled Nick’s shirt loose from his pants, dragged the material askew until Kit’s cock rubbed over a loose string from the collar, digging it into Nick’s chest. It must have felt good.
Kit jolted as if shocked. Nick’s eyes were shut, his nose pressed into Kit’s jaw, breathing in the smell of sweat and sex as Kit cried out softly, body losing its steady rhythm as he shook, tense, quaking.
A wet spot grew on the front of his trousers, cock trembling.
Kit clung to him, slackening until his weight was no longer held up and taut, instead collapsed against Nick’s chest. Nick breathed out in relief when Kit’s purr started again softly after a stutter. Kit nuzzled his cheek, breath warm, humid and settled. His tail loosened on Nick’s arm.
“Feel okay?” Nick checked. Everything in Kit’s body said he did, but he needed to make sure.
Kit hummed, tongue dragging across the bridge of Nick’s nose.
He framed Nick’s face between his hands and proceeded with a thorough scent-marking.
Nick shut his eyes, not complaining once.
He didn’t scrunch his nose like he had the last time.
The idea of saliva on his face bothered him less when he could feel a small wet patch on his abdomen from Kit’s release.
Plus, now that he knew the act of scent-marking made Kit feel good, it felt more intimate, less confusing.
Nick shifted, slightly uncomfortable due to the fact that Kit repositioning had lost him friction down below.
And Kit humping his stomach until he came—Nick was very, very turned-on.
“I’m not reaching for you,” Nick murmured.
“Okay?” He reached into his own trousers, guiding his cock just free of the fabric so he could touch himself.
He thumbed his piercings, turning each ring in his scrotum and then twisting his ladder rungs before pumping himself with a light touch, a soft torture as Kit adored Nick’s skin with his tongue.
Nick revelled for longer than he thought himself capable of, but eventually his body grew tense with need and desire, sensation ramping up slowly, unbearably, until a thread of frustrated patience snipped.
Nick’s breaths were unsteady when he peeled open his eyes, seeing a smooth temple, black hair stuck to it by sweat.
“I’m cut, Kit,” he murmured. “Let my face go for just a sec, okay? I need some saliva.”
Kit leaned back, eyes sliding to Nick’s cock. He reached down, took Nick by the wrist and guided his hand up. Every movement was slack, almost lazy. Kit cupped Nick’s hand, palm up, and bowed his head. His tongue slid out.
A full-body shiver prickled over Nick. The air thickened as he watched, transfixed, as Kit licked along each finger, between them, nibbled on Nick’s thumb, and bit down gently before sucking the skin red. His tail moved as he did this. Sliding across Nick’s lap, brushing against his cock.
Nick’s attention split between the worship his hand was receiving and his cock.
The end of Kit’s tail, the thinnest part just before it tapered off into tufts, slowly wrapped around his shaft.
It wound around, pressing against his piercings and moving them as the pressure tightened.
Nick’s blood roared, gaze snapping to Kit, who wasn’t even paying attention, eyes shut as he sucked two of Nick’s fingers into his mouth.
Nick’s attention dragged back to his cock.
This tail had split the skin on his back open. It had a terrifying strength, yet it wrapped so carefully around his cock, tightening in little maddening pulses.
Nick’s balls were tight to his shaft, his mind cracking open when those soft tufts brushed against the sensitive underside of his head. Nick inhaled sharply, hips bucking up as his climax crashed through him with a vengeance, a wave of overwhelming sensation rocketing through his body.
Nick’s breath swept away as he spilled out, the individual banding of Kit’s tail constricting as his cock pulsed, semen landing on his shirt, his pants, the tufts of Kit’s tail.
Dazed, Nick came back to his senses, loosening the fist he had twisted into Kit’s shirt.
He tried to smooth out the damage, return the crisp lines to his tailored shirt.
“Sorry, I scrunched the fabric.” Nick drew in a sharp breath.
“Kit, shit, I’m sorry.” He yanked his hand away, and quick as a whip, Kit caught his wrist. Put Nick’s hand back on his side.
Through the gut punch of panic, Nick realised that Kit was still relaxed. He didn’t tense, even as he purposefully flattened Nick’s hand against his ribs. There wasn’t a hint of stress in his expression but rather a tired, lethargic delight.
“You once called it a rat’s tail,” Kit said. He still had Nick’s other hand in his grip. He flattened out those fingers too and rubbed his face into them. Nick’s breath stopped entirely. He didn’t dare move as Kit rested his cheek in Nick’s palm. Willingly. Happily.
Distracted, it took him a minute to process Kit’s words. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you were going to cut off my disgusting rat’s tail,” Kit continued, eyes fixed on Nick’s face, the merriment in his eyes plain to see. “Yet you rather seem to enjoy it.”
Nick swallowed hard. Kit was teasing him.
About coming. From being touched by his tail.
“I might have to revise that promise.” His voice came out wrecked.
He twitched his thumb, just the tiniest bit, and Kit leaned into it, giving Nick the bravery to stroke his cheek.
And Kit stayed happy. He stayed content.
“For the record, I never actually thought your tail was disgusting.”
Kit’s eyes brightened.
“Though, I can’t say I ever imagined…this.” Kit’s tail was still wrapped around him. Holding Nick gently as he softened.
“You’re unreal, Kit,” Nick muttered under his breath.