Chapter 12 #3
I throw my whole weight into each thrust, gripping the towels for leverage. My feet are still on the floor. His face is far enough away I can’t quite kiss him, his mouth focused on catching his breath.
“Fuck… Fuck—” he grunts.
I grab the underside of his thighs, digging my nails in. “Tell me if this is too much.” I push his legs back so his knees are nearly touching the mattress. “You’re pretty flexible, even with all those muscles.” I swing my foot onto the bed. “Hold your thighs here.”
His hands replace mine. I thrust deeper, faster than before.
Finally, I can reach his face to kiss him.
Shove my tongue in his mouth like how I shove my cock in his ass.
I am delirious, overtaken by his warmth, by the little noises he makes, by pure concentrated lust. So much so that I almost lose myself, close to finishing without making sure he’s satisfied. Again.
Once he’s impaled on my cock, as deep as I can possibly go, I settle. My hips are frozen in place while both hands wrap around his thick cock. He rolls his head back against the mattress, a braying moan erupting from him.
One hand focuses on his shaft while the other palms the head. There’s so much precum. I switch hands, using his own cum to slick my hand and stroke him faster.
“You really are going to make a huge mess, aren’t you?” I give his cockhead a light squeeze. “Answer me.”
“Y-yes,” he breathes. “Yes, Roderick—I’m going to come so much because you feel so good.”
I lean in to kiss the flat of his nose. “I’ll clean you up.” Both my hands are soiled with his pre-cum, and so I jerk him with both. “My own personal fuck toy.” Another kiss as soft as his fur brushing against my thighs. “My Christos.”
“Roder—” He chokes on the last bit of my name as he begins to spill.
I slow my strokes, appreciating the way his cock throbs as he spurts cum all over his stomach.
His nostrils flair and all the muscles in his body tense.
A few seconds later and he’s still coming, his mess starting to slide off his body and onto the towels beneath him.
I’m still hard and inside him. I reach for his face, making sure I have his attention.
“I’m going to keep fucking you.”
I rear my hips back, watching myself in his deep dark eyes. With each thrust he lets out a pathetic little whimper. I’m overwhelmed by him entirely. The sound, the scent, the stickiness of him. So much so my orgasm sneaks up to me.
“Shit—” My voice wavers as I come with a final thrust.
His cock has calmed down now, flaccid and laying in a pool of his own cum. I grab the edge of a towel, wiping him down his stomach.
He breathes a laugh, his voice soft. “Don’t worry about it…”
“Please, it’s the least I could do.”
Though the more I try to clean up, the bigger mess I fear I’m making. There’s no way to clean up his fur and there’s so much cum I feel like I’m just pushing it around, like I’m trying to pick up crude oil with my hands.
He touches my cheek to get my attention.
“We can shower later…” His thumb drags across my bottom lip. “Come hold me.”
My face burns up. “Right.” I’m so bad at this.
Have I always been bad at this? As I cuddle up next to him, I try to think of the last time I’ve done aftercare.
I always ask the guy if he needs anything.
Definitely had to rummage around guy’s kitchens looking for cups for water and stumbled around hallways looking for bathrooms to grab another towel.
He huffs, the disgruntled sound made confusing by his large grin. “You seem nervous.”
“Okay, so…” I let it all out. “I didn’t think you’d come this much.”
A billowing laugh escapes his mouth. “I warned you,” the humor is clear in his tone, “multiple times.”
We slip into comfortable silence. I stroke his hair, then the curve his horns, finally looping back down the trail of his snout. His long eyelashes flutter, till He yawns in my face. I gently push his face away.
“We should shower before you pass out in a pool of your own jizz.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time…”
“Hey,” I say with as much adoration in my voice as I can muster. “That’s gross. Shower. Now.”
We bundle up the towels and carry them to the bathroom.
The washer and dryer conveniently placed there.
I toss them into the washer while Christos hops in the shower.
As I fill the washer with detergent, it occurs to me that our date is almost over.
I’ll have to get back to campus, climb into bed, and pretend like none of this happened.
At least I did get some studying done. So, I didn’t completely lie to Terrence. And I learned a lot about Minotaur anatomy. That has to count for something.
“All yours,” Christos says as he steps out of the shower. The wet hair on his body sticks out like he’s been electrocuted. He opens up a closet and grabs fresh towels. I bite my lip, tempted to stand here and watch him rub himself down—but the water is running hot, and I should get going.
I focus on cleaning what matters, careful not to get my hair wet. I’d have to get real creative to explain wet hair to Terrence. Assuming he’s still awake when I get back.
I call over the water, “What time is it?”
“It’s half past nine. You have to head out soon?”
“Yeah,” I say but my heart isn’t in it. I get out of the shower and grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist. “The library closes at ten so if I’m not back soon it’ll look suspicious.”
Christos, also wearing nothing but a towel, lifts a brow. “You told Terrence you’re at the library? What if he went there looking for you?”
I roll my head back with a groan. “I know, not my best move. Cut me some slack, I’m still getting used to this whole lying thing.”
I walk past him to grab my clothes off the floor.
He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed. “Do you want some advice? When it comes to lying, I mean.”
I pause right as I’m about to button my pants. We lock eyes and he shrugs. “I wasn’t always out, especially not in my rookie days.”
My mouth goes dry. I don’t consider being in the closet to be lying. I also know that’s not quite what he is talking about. I button my jeans.
“So you’ve done this before?”
“Not this exactly. All I’m saying is I’ve been discreet. The less details you tell people the less likely you’ll get caught in a lie.”
“I’ll remember that…” I mutter as I fasten my belt, fully dressed and glad this conversation is over.
I trudge downstairs to grab my backpack, still sitting under the kitchen table.
The mini candy Christos offered me is abandoned on the table.
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and check my phone, paranoid that Terrence went to the library or somehow followed me out here.
Except there are no texts from him. I’ve got about fifteen minutes till the library closes.
Does Terrence even know when the library closes?
On my way, out I snatch the mini candy off the table.
I roll it between my fingers, the crinkle of the wrapper satisfying.
The bike back to campus is uneventful. As is my return to the dorm room.
Terrence hasn’t moved from his bed, still watching videos on his laptop with headphones in.
He doesn’t acknowledge me when he shuts his laptop and goes to the bathroom.
I should follow his lead and get ready for bed, but instead, I toy with the mini candy some more till I eventually give in, tearing it open and popping it into my mouth.
I can justify this. I got extra cardio biking to and from Christos’ place. Sex itself is a workout. When I chew on the chocolate and nougat, all I can think about is how it tastes like him.