Chapter 19 Cabin Fever #3
His mouth found mine again, and I lost myself in the kiss, hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach.
He kissed down my neck, my collarbone, my chest, and I arched into it, craving more.
His tongue traced the line of my collarbone, then moved lower, circling one nipple before sucking it into his mouth.
“Grant—” The sensation shot straight to my cock, and I bucked up against him.
“I know.” His hand wrapped around my cock, and I gasped at the contact, hips jerking up. “Easy. Let me take care of you.”
And he did. His hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes, thumb sweeping over the head of my cock and spreading the precome leaking there. The slick slide of it made my toes curl, made my breath come in harsh pants.
His mouth moved lower, kissing down my stomach, tongue dipping into my navel before continuing its path. When he reached the base of my cock, he looked up at me, eyes dark and hungry.
“Can I?”
“Fuck yes.”
He wrapped his hand around the base of my cock, holding me steady, and then his mouth was on me.
Hot and wet and perfect. He took me in slowly, inch by inch, until I hit the back of his throat.
I felt him swallow around me, felt the constriction of it, and had to grip the sheets with my good hand to keep from thrusting up.
“Holy fuck—” My voice came out wrecked, barely coherent.
He pulled off slowly, tongue dragging along the underside of my cock, and looked up at me with his lips shiny and swollen. “Good?”
“So fucking good. Don't stop.”
He didn't. He took me back in, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm that had me seeing stars. His hand worked what his mouth couldn't reach, twisting on the upstroke in a way that made my whole body tense. His other hand moved lower, cupping my balls, rolling them gently.
I was panting now, head thrown back against the pillows, good hand fisted in his hair. Every pull of his mouth sent pleasure sparking up my spine. Every swallow around the head of my cock made my hips jerk.
“Grant, I'm gonna—if you keep doing that—”
He pulled off with an obscene pop, and I whimpered at the loss. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come.”
“Then hurry the fuck up—”
“No.” His voice dropped lower, authoritative in a way that made my cock twitch. “I'm not done with you yet.”
Before I could protest, his mouth was back on me, taking me deep in one smooth motion that made my back arch off the bed. But this time he didn't move. Just held me there, my cock buried in the wet heat of his throat, and I felt him swallow around me.
“Fuck—Grant—”
He pulled off slowly, tongue working the underside of my shaft, then took me back in. Over and over, setting a rhythm that was torturously slow and absolutely relentless. His hand gripped the base of my cock, squeezing just hard enough to keep me from getting too close to the edge.
“Please—” I was begging now, good hand fisted in his hair, trying to get him to move faster.
He pulled off completely, and I groaned in frustration. “What did I say about patience?”
“I don't have any. Not with you.”
“Then I'll teach you some.” His eyes were dark, commanding, and it sent a thrill through me. “You're going to lie there and take what I give you. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Something flickered in his eyes—heat and possession and pure hunger. “Good boy.”
He sucked me hard and fast, hollowing his cheeks, working me with his tongue until I was gasping and writhing beneath him. Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he pulled off and moved lower.
His tongue traced the seam of my balls, licking and sucking each one into his mouth. The sensation was overwhelming—wet and hot and so fucking good I couldn't think straight. Then he went lower still, his hands gripping my thighs and spreading them wider.
“Oh fuck—”
His tongue pressed against my taint, licking a long stripe from my balls to my hole, and I nearly came right then. He did it again, slower this time, really taking his time, and I heard him groan against my skin.
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, voice muffled. “Been thinking about this all week.”
He buried his face between my legs, nose pressed against my taint, and I felt him inhale deeply. The sound he made was obscene—a deep, satisfied groan that vibrated through me.
“Smell so good. Taste so good. Fucking perfect.”
His tongue worked over every inch of me, licking and sucking and driving me out of my mind. When he finally moved back up, he didn't go for my cock. Instead, he shifted higher, kissing up my stomach, my chest, until his face was level with my armpit.
I felt his nose press against the hollow there, felt him inhale again, and realized what he was doing.
“Grant—”
“Shh. Let me.” His voice was rough, strained with need. “You have no idea how fucking good you smell here. How many times I've thought about this.”
He licked a stripe up the center of my armpit, and I gasped at the sensation—intimate and filthy and so fucking hot I couldn't process it. His tongue worked over the sensitive skin, tracing patterns, and I felt his cock throb against my hip where it was pressed between us.
“Daddy—” The word came out broken, desperate.
“That's it. Say it again.”
“Daddy, please—”
He groaned against my skin, licking and sucking at my armpit like he was starving for it. His other hand came up to grip my good arm, holding it in place above my head while he worked me over. The position made me feel exposed, vulnerable, completely at his mercy.
And I fucking loved it.
He switched to the other side, giving it the same thorough attention, and I was shaking beneath him. My cock was leaking steadily, precome pooling on my stomach, and I was so hard it hurt.
His mouth moved back down, kissing and licking its way over my chest, pausing to suck hard on my nipples until they were swollen and sensitive. Every touch felt amplified, every sensation overwhelming.
“You're so beautiful like this,” he said, looking up at me with dark eyes. “Spread out for me. Taking everything I give you. Such a good boy.”
“Please, Daddy. I need you inside me.”
“I know you do.” He kissed down my stomach, tongue dipping into my navel. “But I'm not done worshipping this perfect fucking body yet.”
His hands roamed over my thighs, my hips, tracing every line and curve like he was memorizing me. He pressed kisses to the inside of my thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
“Every inch of you is perfect,” he said, voice rough with sincerity. “Your legs. Your ass. Your cock. Your chest. Even your fucking armpits drive me crazy.”
“Grant—”
“The way you smell. The way you taste. The sounds you make when I touch you.” His mouth was moving back toward my cock now, and I was trembling with anticipation. “I could spend hours just exploring you. Learning what makes you fall apart.”
He took me deep, nose pressed against my pelvis, and held me there while I fought not to thrust up into his throat.
Then he pulled off and looked up at me with swollen lips and dark eyes. “Open your mouth.”
I obeyed without thinking, and he leaned over me, gathering saliva in his mouth. Then he let it drip slowly onto my tongue, a thick strand of spit that landed hot and obscene. I moaned at the filthiness of it, at the way he was marking me.
“Swallow.”
I did, and he groaned watching my throat work.
“Good boy. Now kiss me.”
He crashed his mouth against mine, and it was messy and wet and perfect. Our tongues slid together, sharing spit and breath and need. When he pulled back, I chased his mouth, and he smiled against my lips.
“Want more?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He gathered more spit and let it fall into my open mouth again, and this time I didn't swallow right away. I let it pool on my tongue, showed him, and watched his eyes go black with lust.
“Fucking filthy,” he growled. “Give it back to me.”
I pulled him down and kissed him, letting the spit transfer between our mouths, messy and obscene. He moaned into the kiss, hand coming up to grip my jaw and hold me in place while he devoured my mouth.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard, lips shiny and swollen.
“Turn around,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“Turn around. I want your head hanging off the edge of the bed.”
Understanding hit me, and my cock twitched hard against my stomach. “Fuck yes.”
He helped me maneuver carefully, mindful of my shoulder and leg, until I was positioned with my head hanging off the side of the bed, looking up at him upside down. The blood rushed to my head, making everything feel heightened and dizzy.
Grant stood at the edge of the bed, his cock level with my face, and the sight of it from this angle made my mouth water. He was so fucking thick, the head flushed dark and leaking.
“Open wide for Daddy.”
I let my mouth fall open, tongue out, and he groaned at the sight.
“Such a good boy. So eager for my cock.” He gripped the base of his shaft and tapped the head against my lips, smearing precome across them. “Gonna feed you this cock. Gonna fuck this pretty throat.”
He pushed in slowly, and from this angle I felt every inch as he slid over my tongue and toward the back of my throat. The position opened me up differently, let him go deeper, and when he hit the back of my throat I gagged reflexively.
“Relax,” he murmured, one hand coming to rest on my throat. “Breathe through your nose. Let me in.”
I forced myself to relax, to open up for him, and he pushed deeper. I felt the thick head of his cock push past my gag reflex and into my throat, felt the stretch of it, and his hand on my throat felt the bulge.
“Fuck, I can feel myself in your throat. Can you feel that? Can you feel how deep I am?”
I couldn't answer, could only make a muffled sound around his cock, and he groaned.
“That's it. Take it. Take all of Daddy's cock.”