NOTHING COMPARES TO YOU #2
My brain is curling around the notion that he is just ridiculously mouthwatering, with his thick, perfect lips and intense eyes, along with all that dark skin, bulging muscles, and cut abs.
An intrusive thought of being in awe that someone like him would ever want someone like me tries to take root, but when he takes a step towards me with raw, hungry eyes, the thought runs away.
I toss him the lube before hooking my hands under the hem of my shirt and giving him a cocky wink.
“You got started without me.”
“Just getting everything ready.”
His eyes never leave mine as I strip off my clothes. Not gonna lie, I don’t think I’ll ever get over how openly appreciative he is of my body. Not that I think I’m terrible to look at or anything. But I know society prefers abs and muscles like his over my thin lines and smooth, undefined skin.
“Definitely gonna need to get things ready. Luckily, when I said I prepped for this earlier, I meant it.” I step towards him, trying to dispel the intrusive thought.
Marcus has never held back on telling me how pretty he finds me, and he’s never done or said anything to contradict that, so those nasty thoughts have no place here. Not tonight.
“What do you mean?” Marcus raises a curious eyebrow as he grabs my hips and hauls me in closer to him, his leg hair grazing my already hard dick in a way that has my head spinning.
I bite the inside of my lip to hide the smile trying to break free. I’m going for sultry here because I know this is gonna be the ultimate tease for him, but the smile will ruin the delivery.
“I’m not the most patient person ever. It’s been a really long time since I last got laid, and you’re not exactly average-sized, so I may have made accommodations for my impatience and your size,” I purr out lightly while walking my fingers up his torso and down his arm.
“What does that mean?” he rumbles out, full of hesitation and curiosity.
“It means,” I start while threading my fingers through his. “This,” I finish while guiding his hand down and behind me until his fingers brush against the metal ring resting against my hole.
I know the instant he feels it when his eyes widen with understanding, before his face morphs into a mixture of lust and possession that would almost be scary if it weren’t for it being Marcus.
His fingers dig into my hip as he pulls me deeper into him, while the fingers of his other hand start curling around the ring of the plug and playing with it, causing the toy to shift and wreak havoc inside of me.
“You mean to tell me,” he growls against my ear. “You’ve been curled up on me all day, teasing the fuck out of me, while wearing this the whole time?”
He twists the toy in a way that puts the pressure of the plug directly against my prostate, and the sensation pulls a needy whimper out of me.
“Are you trying to kill me?” he asks in what is obviously a rhetorical question because his mouth descends on mine and swallows any smartass comments I might have been about to make, or at least attempt to make, because his fingers are still making that plug dance inside of me and fucking me all up.
Without breaking from the kiss, his arm wraps around my waist, and he hauls me up and carries me to the bed. His tongue alternates between licking my lips and sweeping the inside of my mouth while I spread my legs to make room for him to hover over me.
“You don’t understand what you do to me. You’re every dream, every fantasy, even before you had a face and a name, you’ve still been the star of every notion of perfection I’ve had in my head since I can remember.”
He worships a steady stream of praise as his mouth carves marks into my neck and down my torso, his tongue curling around my belly button ring and twisting it just right to make my toes curl.
“Marcus,” I breathe out when his lips land just above my inner thigh, and his thumb brushes lightly against my balls.
“Someday I’ll sit down and show you every celebrity crush I’ve ever had, every person I ever looked at twice, and you’ll see it.
Pieces of you in every one of them, but none of them able to hold my interest for long because they were never the totality of you,” he continues with his thought while flitting kisses down my thighs and flicking his tongue along my perineum and about driving me right out of my head.
I don’t know how to respond to any of what he said.
I’m so fucking lit up with his touch that it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the jumbled-up concept of something deeper than just attraction, some underlying proof of fate, even, I don’t know.
But even if I could have had a response, he renders me incapable of expressing it when he wraps his mouth around my dick and makes me see stars.
I’m so fucking hard and leaking as his warm, wet mouth descends upon me, and my body arches at the perfect ecstasy of it.
And the hum of appreciation that comes out of him when he tastes me, like he's being served his favorite dish, just elevates that.
The sound trickles to the deepest depths of my brain and makes my whole body vibrate with need.
But if that wasn’t enough, he finds a way to up everything, intensify it, because if there’s a way to be intense, Marcus can’t not explore it.
His fingers curl back around the ring of the buttplug, and he starts twisting it again, testing the best ways to put pressure on it to draw the more lusty reactions from me.
His mouth pops off of me for a moment, and he looks up at me to watch my reaction.
“Like that?” he asks as if he isn't fully aware of how hard I'm falling apart. Smug fucker.
But of course, instead of the quip that's resting on the edge of my tongue, I just nod enthusiastically in agreement. I’m too far gone to care about how eager I look right now because, fuck, he’s turning me inside out.
“What about this?” Is all the warning I get when the plug is twisted and pulled out.
I’m torn because I’ve always hated that empty feeling after having something up there, but then again, knowing he’s about to replace the plug with his cock, makes it a little easier to handle it right now.
But instead of him crawling up and getting ready to fuck me, he douses the plug in more lube and curls it back up inside me, pulling a heavy, shocked gasp of pleasure out of me in the process.
“You’re gonna come in my mouth and then come on my cock. Think you can handle that?” he says, nipping my inner thigh.
The sharp, witty retort that I know exists somewhere in my brain stays resolutely hidden when I just nod in agreement instead, while he fucks my hole with the stainless steel plug and takes my cock back in his mouth once he’s satisfied with my answer.
The fucker is looking up at me with so much pride, like he’s just the happiest person ever because I’m falling apart from his touch, and I can’t even find it in myself to be aggravated by it this time.
The confidence oozing off him is overwhelming, and while my heart is melting with affection, my body is fucking burning with ecstasy.
It doesn’t take long. I was already pent up to begin with, so having the double attack of his mouth on my dick and him fucking my hole with the plug has my body trembling towards its release at an alarming tempo.
“Marcus I–” I barely get out before the ecstasy overwhelms me, and I dissolve into a fit of heavy breaths. His hand comes up and threads through my fingers, and that’s the final straw, the tether to hold me to him while I fall to pieces with a breathy cry of his name.
“I love the way you call my name when you come,” he praises while my orgasm subsides and the raging current slowly eases back down to a steady stream.
“I was under the impression you loved it when I called your name in general,” I point out, having finally found my voice again.
“I do, but I’m allowed to have favorites,” he teases, while looking down at me.
“God damn, look at how pretty your hole is, all stretched and open,” he says, and before I have a chance to say anything at all to that, his tongue flits out and traces the circumference of it.
He’s perfectly timing his speechless-rending movements right around the time I’d say something snarky, and the thought runs through my head as to whether he’s doing it on purpose or if it’s just his mission to keep me an incoherent mess.
A million nerves rapidly fire from my hole throughout the rest of my body, and a long, broken groan rattles its way out of me at the feel of it.
Just after coming, I'm oversensitive, and each swipe of his tongue is igniting every synapse in my body and completely rewriting the chemistry of my brain.
“Are you purposely trying to keep me quiet?” I barely get the words out in between heavy breaths and sighs of oversensitive pleasure.
Marcus chuckles at the question. “You haven’t been quiet since we started. Your moans have rattled off the walls,” he points out; the pride at having been the cause of my melodious cries is evident in his tone.
I let out half a chuckle when his tongue plunges into my hole, and I just can’t anymore.
“Marcus, please,” I wail out somewhere between half-pleading and half-moaning—a sound rendered from needing more and never wanting to stop.
“Please, what?” he rumbles while nipping the skin around my hole lightly.
“I need your cock, Marcus, now,” I’m practically begging at this point.
There’s a heady difference between knowing you need to get laid in general and having the entirety of your existence hanging in the balance of utter destruction if that one person doesn’t bury themselves inside of you.
That’s where I’m at. I don’t just need to get laid; I need Marcus, solely him, and his cock inside of me now, or I might just die.
Marcus sits up and grabs the lube. Even though I’m ten shades too fucking gone already, my eyes still can’t help but linger on how the veins of his arms bulge while he lubes up his cock. A necessary perfunctory act is somehow the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.