Chapter 31 Kit #2
Kit flicked Quin on the nose. “That’s not the compliment you mean it to be.”
“I meant that his instincts are bang on.” Quin paused. “I mean, our instincts. I’m my beast. Can’t keep pretending we aren’t the same. Not when he was so right about you.”
Kit kissed him to stop him from rambling any longer. “I’m glad you and your beast are on better terms.”
“He’s not so bad. Being possessed showed me how terrible it could be. I’m the one in control, not anyone else, even when I’m all wolfed out.”
The captain poked her head out from the covered helm. “Ready to go back to shore?”
Quin raised an eyebrow at Kit.
Kit nodded, decisive. “Let’s go home.”
Mabel yipped in what could have only been agreement.
“Baby boy, what are you wearing?”
“I got them online, Daddy.”
“That’s not the answer to the question I asked,” Quin said, raking his eyes over Kit where he lay stretched out on their bed.
Kit blinked innocently up at him. “Oh, these?” he asked, trailing his hands down the rest of his stocking-clad legs.
“Yes, those.”
Kit pouted. “I thought you might like them.” He’d recently mustered up the courage to order a multitude of more feminine underwear sets, but this was the first time he was wearing anything like this in front of Quin.
The blush pink thigh-highs matched his tiny bikini-type briefs, so tight that they cupped his bulge in an obscene manner.
He wore nothing else other than the resized ring on his finger, and an extra hidden surprise for Quin.
“You look good enough to eat,” Quin said.
“The big bad wolf coming to ravish poor Little Red Riding Hood?”
“You’re wearing the wrong colour,” Quin pointed out. “Besides, I’m not sure that’s how the story ended.”
Kit bit down on his lower lip. “How about we make up our own ending?”
Quin strode forwards and took hold of one of Kit’s ankles, yanking him towards the end of the bed. Kit yelped, startled by the move, before laughing at himself.
“Do you remember the rule about buying sex things without my say-so?” Quin asked.
Kit made a show of thinking hard. “Nope. Besides, since when are stockings considered ‘sex things’? Have you reconsidered your lack of a foot fetish?”
“For the last bloody time, I do not have a foot fetish.”
“Then you should probably stop caressing my foot like that.”
Quin looked down at his own hand, which, sure enough, was paying a lot of absent attention to Kit’s foot. “Dammit.”
“It’s fine, Daddy,” Kit said, placing his hands over his heart. “I’ll accept you no matter what kinks you have.”
Quin chuckled. “You’re being naughty right now.”
Kit gave a melodramatic gasp. “Whatever will you do with me?”
“I suppose I might have to punish you for your awful behaviour.”
Quin leaned over, putting himself in between Kit’s legs, face close to Kit’s groin. Instead of going for Kit’s underwear, however, Quin nipped at his inner thigh.
Kit threw his head back on the pillow as Quin continued with his ministrations. “Please,” he whined.
“I don’t think you’re pleading hard enough,” Quin said, using his hands to widen Kit’s legs.
“Daddy, please.”
“You’ve been naughty. I can’t reward you with what you want.”
Kit’s hands balled into fists on the bed as Quin drew his tongue up the length of his thigh, right above the stocking. Kit squeaked. “That tickles!”
Instead of stopping, Quin did the same to his other thigh. Kit pushed ineffectually at Quin’s head. With his strength, he could move Quin away with ease, but he enjoyed the pretence.
Finally, after licking and biting just about every inch of Kit’s thighs, Quin pulled Kit’s underwear down. When they came off, Kit’s mouth fell open as he watched Quin press the pink briefs to his own face and take a deep sniff.
“Oh my god, Daddy, that was dirty.”
“Mmm. I could bathe in your scent,” Quin said, chucking the underwear behind him. His smile was the most wolfish Kit had ever seen.
Wearing just the stockings made Kit feel more naked than had he been nude. His cock was straining upwards, and he tamped down the urge to hide it with his hands. “You’re too much sometimes,” he said.
“I think my boy enjoys being overwhelmed.”
Kit didn’t disagree, but his sensibilities demanded he protest about it a little bit more. “I do not.”
“I’m taking that as a challenge.”
Kit flopped over onto his front, hiding his face in the pillow.
“And that’s an invitation,” Quin said. The bed dipped under Quin’s weight, and then, “Oh, baby boy, you’ve really been naughty, haven’t you?”
Kit buried his face further into the pillow, biting it as Quin’s hands spread his arse cheeks, exposing the silver butt plug he’d put in there after his shower.
He’d never worn such a thing of his own accord, and he’d been hyper aware of his every movement since lubing it up and slipping it in.
It wasn’t large, at least, not compared to Quin’s cock, but it was big enough that he couldn’t ignore it.
When nothing happened for a few seconds, Kit lifted his head, turning to look at Quin. “What are you doing?”
“Just drinking in the view.”
Kit squirmed at the admission, but Quin held him in place, thumbs pressing into his cheeks to keep them apart.
Then, with exquisite slowness, Quin began to ease the plug out of Kit’s arse.
It stretched his rim when Quin held it at its thickest part.
Instead of pulling the plug all the way out, Quin let go, Kit’s hole swallowing it right back up.
“Beautiful,” Quin said.
“That’s a weird compliment to pay to my arsehole.”
“What can I say? It’s a pretty arsehole.”
“Stop just looking at it. I want you inside, Daddy.”
Quin pulled the plug free this time, setting it on the nightstand. Kit heard his breathing speed up. “Can I spank you before we fuck? Only a little.”
Kit moaned into the pillow in response.
“Was that a yes? Baby boy, I need you to tell me.” Quin kneaded Kit’s arse cheeks. “I’d like to see them pink up a bit.”
Kit turned his face to the side. “Daddy…”
“Yes, baby?”
“Please spank me.”
“You’re so good to me.” Quin continued to play with Kit’s arse cheeks, squeezing and groping until—slap!
Kit threw his head back as he gasped. The spank was somehow both softer and harder than he’d expected. It smarted, but any pain faded fast.
Quin’s large hand spanned his butt cheek, pressing into the tender flesh. “I’m so glad you just fed,” he murmured. “It’s already colouring up.” Without warning, he slapped Kit’s other cheek, tingles spreading through his body as Quin made contact.
Kit let out a soft, “Oh,” as he pillowed his face in his hands. One, two, three, four; the spanks kept coming, each subsequent one lighter than the one before. Still, soon his arse was sensitive to even the little taps that Quin rained down upon him.
“You had enough, baby boy?” Quin asked, stopping.
“Yes, Daddy,” Kit said into the pillow, his entire body lighting up with pleasure from the spanking.
“I’m going to turn you around.” Quin paused, leaving space for Kit to object.
When Kit stayed silent, Quin flipped him over so that he lay on his back. The sensation of his tender arse hitting the sheets had him hissing.
“Too sore?” Quin asked.
Kit shook his head, squirming on the bed. Quin rubbed his hands up and down Kit’s stockings, his thumbs pressing circles into his calves, before giving him a wicked smile. “Brace yourself.”
Kit squealed with indignation when Quin picked him up, twirling him in the air so that Kit was hanging upside down, his face level with Quin’s cock. Kit didn’t need further invitation: he swallowed it down.
“Fuck,” Quin said. His arms banded around Kit’s body, holding him in place. It should have been a precarious position, but Kit trusted Quin not to drop him. A tentative thrust of Quin’s hips had him letting out a muffled gag as Quin’s cock pushed deeper into his throat.
“Hold onto my waist,” Quin said, and Kit held on tight. Quin switched his grip so that he was keeping Kit aloft by one arm.
Quin used his free hand to part Kit’s flaming arse cheeks.
The next thing Kit knew, warm wetness dripped onto his exposed hole.
Kit clenched as Quin rubbed one finger over his hole, using the saliva to ease his way inside.
Kit suckled mindlessly on the tip of Quin’s cock as Quin pushed his finger in further.
He let out a moan as Quin’s thick finger found his prostate, rubbing over it.
“That’s it, baby boy. Ride my finger and suck my cock,” Quin said.
Kit hooked a leg around the back of Quin’s neck and used the leverage to do what Quin asked of him.
Soon, Quin pressed another finger to his hole, the stretch making Kit gasp.
Quin rocked his hips forward, fucking Kit’s mouth as he finger-fucked his arse.
It felt right to be filled at both ends by Quin. Kit couldn’t think beyond chasing his pleasure. He wanted to do a good job for Quin, but his blowjob was growing sloppy, and his own cock was aching with need.
He used one hand to push himself off Quin’s cock. “Daddy, I have to—I need—” His incoherent pleas were enough for Quin, who pulled out his fingers and flipped Kit back around. After taking his lips in a filthy kiss, Quin laid him back down on the bed.
“Hold behind your knees, now, that’s a good boy,” Quin said, pushing Kit’s legs up.
He did as Quin said, holding his legs so that they were parted, spreading himself wide. Quin reached over to the end table and grabbed the lube.
“Uh,” Quin said, looking at the bright pink bottle. “It’s bubblegum.” He flicked open the cap and sniffed. “Wow, that’s sweet.”
“I like it,” Kit said stubbornly. In truth, he still thought it was a ridiculous flavour of lube, but he’d been in a mood for pink.
“If you like it, then we’ll use it.”
Kit smiled up at him. “You would do anything I proposed, wouldn’t you?”
“Just about.” Quin slicked himself up before pressing his cock to Kit’s hole. “Ready for me, baby boy?”
“Ready, Daddy.”
Quin pushed in. At first, the pressure was all too much, even with all the prep. Quin’s hands stroked Kit’s hips. “Relax, baby. Let me in.”
“You’re not knocking on my door, Daddy, you’re putting your dick in my arse.”
“I’ll huff and I’ll—”
Kit let go of his legs, letting Quin take their weight. “If you finish that sentence, I’ll walk out of this room right now.”
Quin’s laugh jostled his cock inside Kit’s hole. It was…an odd sensation, to say the least, as Kit’s unintentional relaxation led to Quin’s cock sliding further into his arse. Kit threw his head back as Quin bottomed out, his balls resting against Kit’s tender cheeks.
As Quin thrust tentatively, Kit’s cock bobbed, the crown tapping against his stomach and leaving a spot of glistening precum there. He didn’t touch his cock, however. He wanted Quin to do it. And he also knew that Quin would rather do everything for them both than to have Kit lift a finger.
After a few shallow thrusts, Quin sped up his movements. This wasn’t the fast fuck Kit might have expected; it was slow, and deep, and deliberate. Quin devoted his time to Kit, drawing the process out as he took him apart with his cock, singing his praises all the while.
“You feel so amazing around me, baby,” and, “I could come just seeing your face looking all blissed out like that,” and, “Fuck, I can’t wait until I can call you my husband.”
Kit couldn’t articulate more than a few mewls of pleasure as Quin’s cock slid over his prostate. He was stuffed full, and he could focus on nothing other than Quin.
The faint aroma of Quin’s bergamot cologne.
The soft skin of Quin’s hands pressing into his flesh.
The subtle taste of Quin that Kit got when he pressed his thumb into his mouth.
Quin’s movement stuttered, as it always did when he was close to coming. He hadn’t so much as touched Kit’s cock and it was throbbing with need, his balls drawn up tight. Glistening precum was smeared all over his stomach, the most he’d ever produced before.
With great concentration, Kit gathered his wits enough to speak. “Daddy,” he mumbled around Quin’s thumb. “Touch me.”
“Just a second, baby boy. I’ve got a plan.”
Kit nipped on Quin’s thumb in answer.
Unexpectedly, Quin pulled out of Kit, leaving him empty and needy.
Quin’s free hand flew over his cock, jacking himself to completion right over Kit’s erection.
The sight of it had Kit groaning, his cock twitching as Quin’s cum coated him.
Then, and only then, did Quin take Kit’s cock in hand, jerking him off with his cum.
Quin stroked him through his orgasm and beyond, Kit adding to the mess over his stomach.
“Enough,” he said, pushing at Quin’s hand.
Quin stopped. He gazed down at Kit, shoulders heaving with his deep breaths, sweat making his skin shiny. “How was that, baby?”
Kit gave him a satisfied smile. “It was perfect, Daddy.”