Chapter 13 #2
I was humping the air as he leaned forward and kissed me where he’d just hit me, sucking and licking that sensitive ridge of flesh that no one else had ever touched. I wanted to reach back and hold his head there, but I was bound, trapped.
“Do you want more, or are you ready to stop?”
“More paddle?” I whispered, wiggling my ass a little.
He picked it up and went back to strikes, steady and clean, shaping his hits to the curve of my ass as he explored which spots made me cry out and which made my cock leak a fresh pool of pre-cum onto the ground.
“Such a good boy,” Sky murmured. “Such a good, gorgeous, obedient boy. Look at you, all tied up and shaking for me.”
“Sky, I need—”
“I know what you need. But I want you on your back.”
He unknotted the cord from the tree, leaving my wrists still bound, and guided me toward the bedroll. I stumbled, and Sky pushed me down onto it, and I landed on my back with a thud. The bedroll was rough beneath my stinging skin, and I hissed at the contact.
Sky looped the cord around a tree stump near the head of the bedroll and tied it off, pinning my bound wrists above my head.
I lay there squirming on the bedroll, my cock rutting up into nothing as he stripped off his clothes, stroking his own cock.
Playing with me had made him as hard as I was, and that did not help my current state of arousal.
He pulled a small glass bottle from his bag. Skin oil, I assumed, or possibly something he had purchased in Frostholm that I had not noticed. He unstoppered it and poured a measure into his palm.
“I want that massive cock inside me so bad,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about stuffing you in me and riding you until you scream for days.”
He reached behind himself and began working the oil into himself, his fingers sliding between his own cheeks, his eyes locked on mine.
His lips parted, his breath caught, his hips shifted as he pressed inside himself, and I couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but the image was enough to make my need surge even higher.
The sight of him preparing himself to take my cock was the most obscene and beautiful thing I had ever witnessed.
“You wrote about this,” Sky said as he worked himself. “In The Black Night Guard. When the elf warrior ties his troll captive down and rides him.”
“You read that.”
“I’ve read it four times.” He withdrew his fingers and reached for the oil again, pouring more onto his palm and wrapping his slick hand around my cock.
The sensation was staggering — warm oil, tight grip, the slide of his fist. “You wrote it like a man who had imagined it a thousand times. A man who wants to fuck like that. Do you? Do you want your cock to be my big toy that I ride whenever I need something inside me?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Well.” He positioned himself above me, one hand on my cock, guiding the head of it to his hole. “Let’s find out if you got it right.”
He sank down.
The tight, slick heat of him swallowed the head of my cock and I clenched my hands into fists, fighting against the restraints, desperate to grip something.
I was going to lose my mind. He was impossibly, unbearably tight and hot, his body gripping me like a fist as he worked himself lower, taking me inch by inch, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, his thighs shaking with the effort.
“Fuck.” His eyes were wide, pupils blown. “Fuck, you’re big. Oh fuck, I’ve never taken anything this big.”
“We can stop—”
“Don’t you dare.” He sank lower, and lower, and I watched my cock disappear into his body.
The sight of it combined with the sensation of it made my vision blur.
He bottomed out with a gasp that punched the air out of both of us, and he sat there, fully seated, his palms flat on my chest, breathing hard.
“Oh,” he said. “Oh, that’s — that’s a lot.”
“Are you—”
“I’m incredible. Give me a second.” He shifted his hips in a small circle, adjusting, and I bit the inside of my cheek and tasted copper because the sensation of him moving around me was exquisite and I was not going to come in the first thirty seconds like a schoolboy.
Then he reached forward and gripped both of my horns.
His thumbs found the trolgar points with a precision that told me he had memorized the exact location, and he pressed in, and the world inverted.
I had written about this: fourteen novels, dozens of love scenes, pages of trolgar ecstasy rendered with what I had believed was sensitivity and insight.
I had described the ache of the gland stimulated during penetration, the emotional flood, the merging of physical and psychic pleasure into something transcendent.
I had written it beautifully. I had written it with feeling and care.
I had not understood the raw sensuality of the act.
The trolgar opened like a door blown off its hinges.
Sky’s body gripped my cock, and the wet heat and pressure of him braided together with the trolgar’s emotional frequency, and the combination was a third thing altogether, a thing I had no vocabulary for because I had only ever imagined it.
The pleasure was not in my cock or in my horns but in the wiring between them, a circuit that blazed through every nerve in my body until I could not tell which sensation was which, only that all of them were Sky.
I felt the stretch of me inside him at the same time that I felt his tightness around my cock. I felt every fucking thing, and I couldn’t imagine why anyone would fear an ecstasy so pure.
I shouted. The sound scattered birds from the canopy.
“There it is,” Sky said, and his grin was wild and delighted and he began to move. “Fuck, you look mind blown, I wish I could feel what you’re feeling.”
I wanted him to, was desperate to share this with him, but I was too far gone to do anything but rut up into him, chasing the sensation of our joining. He folded down over me and I strained up to meet him. His mouth slammed into mine, and he sucked on my tongue, drinking down my shouts of pleasure.
I fought for control, and the only thing holding me back was… oh fuck.
“The trolgar,” I choked, thrashing up into him.
“The trolgar what?” He moved, bouncing against my wild rutting, whimpering as I hit just the right spot.
“It won’t let me come until you do. Not while your hands are on it, not while the connection is open,” I whined. “I need to come, Sky. Oh fuck, please.”
A wicked grin slipped across his lips. “Oh, that’s fucking perfect.”
He rode me with his hands on my horns, thumbs grinding into the trolgar points.
Every time he lifted his hips and dropped back down, the clench of his body around my cock and the pulse of the trolgar crashed through me, feeding each other, amplifying, building into something I could not control or contain.
I was making sounds I did not recognize as mine.
My hips were driving upward to meet him, my bound hands straining against the cord, every muscle in my body taut and shaking.
He straightened, releasing my horns to ride me upright, moaning now, every bounce making his eyes roll back. The moment his hands left my horns the connection dimmed, and the peak receded just far enough that I did not spill on the very next stroke.