What Remains #4
“You smell so fucking good,” Ethan muttered, voice wrecked.
Cal’s head tipped back. “Please—please—”
Ethan hooked his fingers into Cal’s waistband and yanked. Cal’s trousers slid down his hips, then his thighs, then pooled around his ankles. Ethan shoved them away, leaving Cal standing there in nothing but tight underwear, cock straining visibly, flushed and leaking already.
I groaned softly, my hand wrapping around myself at last. I didn’t rush it. I stroked slowly, deliberately, enjoying the power of watching them unravel for me.
Ethan rose back up, towering over Cal, hands framing his face. “You’re shaking,” he said, almost reverent.
“Because you’re—” Cal laughed breathlessly, hysterical at the edges. “You’re a lot.”
Ethan smiled then. “Good.”
He kissed Cal again, slower this time, deeper, tongue sliding in to claim every sound Cal made. One hand slid down between them, palming Cal through his underwear, squeezing just enough to make Cal cry out.
“Oh—fuck—Ethan—”
Ethan groaned at the sound, forehead dropping to Cal’s shoulder as he rocked into the touch, his own cock fully hard now. He ground forward deliberately, letting Cal feel it, letting the friction drag a desperate moan from both of them.
I leaned forward in my chair, stroking myself harder now, watching Cal melt under Ethan’s control, watching Ethan come alive in a way only permission could unlock.
Ethan grabbed Cal by the hips and spun him, shoving him forward so Cal bent over the bed, palms braced against the mattress. Cal gasped at the sudden movement, ass lifting instinctively, offering himself without even thinking about it.
“Oh my God,” Cal breathed. “Ethan—”
Ethan’s hands spread over Cal’s ass, squeezing hard, kneading muscle like he couldn’t believe it was real. He pressed his face between Cal’s shoulder blades, breathing him in, then dragged his mouth down Cal’s spine, teeth scraping, tongue following.
Cal was shaking now, moans spilling freely. “Please—please—do something—”
Ethan laughed, low and broken. “You don’t get to rush me.”
He snapped the waistband of Cal’s underwear lightly, just enough to sting. Cal yelped, hips jerking.
“Fuck—!”
I groaned, my grip tightening. “That’s it,” I said. “Make him beg.”
Ethan leaned down, mouth at Cal’s ear. “You hear that?” he whispered. “He wants to hear you beg.”
Cal’s voice broke immediately. “Please—please—touch me—please—I need—”
Ethan slid one hand around Cal’s front, cupping him through the fabric, squeezing slow and firm. Cal sobbed at the contact, knees threatening to buckle.
“There you go,” Ethan murmured. “Just like that.”
I watched them, utterly absorbed. My own pleasure built steadily as I stroked myself, enjoying every moan, every plea, every shudder that Ethan pulled from Cal.
But I wanted more. I wanted to feel them—taste them—claim them both, not just as the man in command, but as flesh and heat and hunger made real.
I stood, stripped off my own clothes in a smooth, practiced motion, the silk of my pants sliding from my thighs as I stepped free and stood over them, naked and already so hard it almost hurt.
Cal and Ethan both looked up at me. I let the moment stretch, letting them take in every inch of me: the scars, the hair, the marks they’d both left on me in other nights and other battles. I took a step closer and reached for Ethan first.
I grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him up to meet me, and crashed my mouth to his in a bruising, hungry kiss.
Ethan groaned into it, hands fisting at my waist, his body surging up to press into mine, cocks bumping together, slick with sweat and precome.
I bit his bottom lip, sucked it between my teeth, let my tongue claim every corner of his mouth.
He melted into me, a low, broken moan escaping as I took and took.
I broke the kiss, breathless, and turned to Cal. I cupped his jaw, tilted his face up, and kissed him just as hard. He whimpered, hands flying to my hips, but I caught his wrists, pinning them behind his back.
“No touching yet,” I murmured against his lips, voice low and rough. “You haven’t earned that.”
“Please—Dom—” he breathed, eyes wide, wild, starving.
“Shh.” I pressed the head of my cock to his lips, smearing a drop of precome across his mouth. “Worship me. Take me in. Show me how much you missed this.”
He opened for me instantly, lips parting, tongue flicking out to taste me. I pushed in slow, savouring the heat and wetness, the way his mouth closed around me, the way he groaned deep in his chest as he took me further, inch by inch, desperate to please, desperate to be filled.
“That’s it,” I growled, hand fisting in his hair. “Good boy. Take all of me—don’t hold back.”
Cal choked, then relaxed, letting his throat open, taking me as deep as he could, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. I held him there, letting him struggle for a moment, then eased back, letting him breathe, then pushed in again, building a rhythm.
Ethan was behind me now, watching, panting, his hands sliding over my back, gripping my waist, his chest pressed to my spine. I reached back, threading my fingers through his hair, dragging his mouth to my ass, spreading my cheeks so he could see everything.
“Eat me,” I ordered, voice raw. “Show me how hungry you are.”
Ethan didn’t hesitate. He buried his face between my cheeks, tongue diving into my crack, licking, sucking, biting at the hair and sweat and taste of me. His hands kneaded my ass, fingers digging in hard, holding me open as he devoured me like a starving man.
The sensation was overwhelming. I rocked between them, hips rolling, cock thrusting into Cal’s throat, ass pressing back into Ethan’s face, caught between pleasure and hunger, between power and surrender.
“God, you’re both perfect,” I gasped, voice shaking. “Fucking—Cal, suck me—Ethan, don’t stop—”
Cal moaned around my cock, saliva dripping down his chin, his hands clenching in the sheets, desperate for more. He swallowed me deep, letting me fuck his mouth as hard as I wanted, his eyes locked on mine, begging for approval, for praise, for more.
I gave it to him, my hand gentle in his hair now, stroking as I slowed the thrusts, letting him catch his breath, letting the tension build. “Good boy,” I whispered, voice tender and rough all at once. “You love this, don’t you? Love being used. Love making me feel good.”
He nodded, mouth still full, tongue working the sensitive underside of my cock, drawing a ragged groan from my throat.
Ethan’s tongue pressed harder, deeper, probing my hole, tasting the sweat and the earthy musk of my body.
He groaned against me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine.
He licked up to my tailbone, then back down, nosing between my cheeks, tongue flicking over the tight ring of muscle, teasing, demanding entry.
I let my head fall back, eyes closing, surrendering for a moment to the pure sensation. “Yes—fuck—just like that—”
Ethan’s hands slid up my thighs, one hand wrapping around my cock just above where Cal’s mouth worked, squeezing, stroking in counterpoint to the rhythm of Cal’s lips and tongue. The other hand cupped my balls, rolling them gently, tugging, squeezing.
I shuddered, hips bucking, lost to the heat and the pressure, the perfect rhythm they built together—mouth and tongue and hands all working to worship, to claim, to break me open and put me back together.
Cal pulled back, gasping, drool smeared across his lips, eyes shining with lust and pride. “Can I touch you now?” he begged, voice wrecked.
“Not yet,” I said, grinning, loving the power, the control, the absolute trust in his eyes. “You keep worshipping me. Use your mouth, your tongue, whatever you want. Make me forget my own name.”
He moaned, dove back in, licking up my shaft, sucking my balls, tonguing the place where Ethan’s spit had slicked my hole, sharing the taste with both of us, moaning as he lost himself in the pleasure of giving.
Ethan rose up behind me, his cock pressed hard and leaking against my ass, his hands sliding around to squeeze my chest, his mouth at my neck, biting, licking, kissing.
“God, you taste good,” Ethan murmured, voice reverent and raw.
I huffed a breathless laugh, the sound rough with pleasure. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day my brother-in-law was licking my ass,” I said, voice shaky and teasing even as my hips rocked back into Ethan’s mouth. “Life really does take unexpected turns.”
Ethan growled low against my skin, unapologetic, tongue pressing harder as if answering the joke with action. “Didn’t think I’d ever want to,” he shot back, voice muffled and feral. “But here we are.”
The sound Cal made—half laugh, half desperate whine—went straight through me.
“Enough,” I said. I caught Cal by the arm and hauled him forward, manhandling him until he was on all fours at the edge of the bed. He went willingly, eagerly, palms pressing into the sheets, back arching as if his body already knew what was coming.
“Stay,” I told him, a hand firm between his shoulder blades. He shuddered but didn’t move.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his underwear and dragged them down, slow enough to make him gasp, fast enough to make it sinful. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking, hanging between his thighs. I tossed the fabric aside like it was nothing.
“Fuck—Dom—” Cal moaned, voice already wrecked.
“Get in there,” I told Ethan. “Feed him.”
Ethan didn’t need a second invitation. He stripped off his pants and grabbed Cal by the jaw, not rough but unmistakably in control, and pressed the head of his cock to Cal’s lips. “Open,” he said.
Cal did—instantly. Mouth parting, tongue flicking out, eyes dark and blown as he took Ethan in. Ethan hissed, one hand fisting in Cal’s hair as he guided the pace, shallow thrusts at first, just enough to make Cal whimper.
“Oh—fuck—” Cal’s voice broke around Ethan’s cock, saliva already slicking the length as he sucked greedily.