Liam #2
In hindsight the “remember” had been a touch too much. Of course Freddie hasn’t forgotten. The hurt still lingers in his eyes, and the word makes it spark then come alive with the fury that’s holding him hostage.
Freddie launches forward again, slapping both hands to my chest, but I’m ready for it this time and bend my legs to receive the shove. I don’t move an inch. Ryker curses and grabs Freddie from behind, pinning his arms at his sides.
Freddie pushes back into him, and they both fall, landing on the sofa with an oomph. Ryker tightens his arms around Freddie, telling him to calm down as he wriggles and hisses like a snared cat. I step up to them, press my hands down on Freddie’s thighs, and lean into his face.
Freddie stops struggling and presses himself back onto Ryker, still caught with his arms trapped at his sides but wary of me, of what I might do.
“Why?” he asks breathlessly, and I know it’s not “Why have you trapped me” or “Why am I here,” it’s “Why wouldn’t you do me the honour of being my best men?”
Ryker doesn’t have to lie, and I don’t have to use a cruel truth. Freddie can now know the real reason we couldn’t.
“This is why,” I say as I lower myself to my knees.
I stroke my hands up Freddie’s thighs, relishing his shiver and the odd sound he makes, like an interrupted hiccup.
“What . . . what are you doing?” Freddie asks.
Ryker keeps one arm snug around Freddie, keeping him pinned, but he frees his other and walks his fingertips up Freddie’s T-shirt to his face where he covers his mouth.
I feel for my brother.
He’s afraid Freddie will say “Alice” again.
I knew he was more affected by what happened then he let on, but I can’t allow Freddie’s mouth to be covered, as hot as it would be to hear him moan against Ryker’s palm when it all gets too much.
I need to listen for key words like “no” and “stop.” I shake my head, and although Ryker huffs and removes his hand, his shoulders are up and his jaw is tight, showing his displeasure.
I’m opening him up to be hurt again, and he’s anticipating the blow from Freddie’s lips, but Freddie is watching me intently as I rub slow circles into his thighs.
He doesn’t protest and I move my attention to the top of his jeans.
I can’t be certain, but I think they’re the same pair as the day before, which makes sense considering he’s only got his small rucksack of possessions.
He doesn’t protest me undoing the button, and Ryker rewards him with a chaste kiss to the cheek.
Freddie whispers, “Liam . . . what are you—”
I snort. “You can see what I’m doing, but it’s what I’m about to do that really interests you . . .”
Freddie’s lashes flutter. “This shouldn’t be happening.”
It’s not a “stop,” or a “no,” and I’m not quite sure how to react, but Ryker’s there to clarify things.
“You want it, though, don’t you? Liam’s warm wet mouth on your straining dick.”
Freddie melts into Ryker’s lap.
“His tongue lapping at your balls . . .” Ryker murmurs. “Making you feel so fucking good.”
Freddie whimpers and his hips shift forward. “I hate you both,” he says.
“We know, babe,” Ryker says and he sounds in control.
I take down Freddie’s jeans, leaving his boxers at first so I can marvel at his shape through the fabric.
There’s a damp patch on his cotton, and they’re tight enough to hug his tip.
It looks glorious. I didn’t ask Ryker for specifics, knew it hadn’t been appropriate considering what happened, but I’m so glad Freddie hasn’t been spoiled for me.
I tug at his boxers, dragging the cotton down his thighs, and his cock brings forth a flood of drool to my mouth.
He’s cut, with the smoothest looking head.
Around the slit his skin is pink, and it fades to a deep purple at the edges of the crown.
I take him in my hand, not to stimulate but to move him, seeing his delicious cock from every angle.
There’s more delicate pink beneath the head, lining the shape of his glans, and my tongue twitches behind my teeth wanting to trace the colour.
It’s now my favourite colour in the whole universe.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ryker says, and I know it’s a rhetorical question and I don’t need to answer.
I pump Freddie once, and his slit opens to dribble out precum. There’s a lot of it, and it runs down his head like sauce on an ice cream, an invitation to taste. I open my mouth wide and sink Freddie deep before bringing my tight lips around him and sucking as I pull back.
Freddie shifts like I’ve delivered him a shock, but his moan is deep and agonised. I stroke him again with my fist and more precum flows from his tip.
“Jesus,” Ryker says. He’s entranced by my hand on Freddie. “I thought that might have been a one-off.”
Freddie’s leaning back against Ryker’s shoulder with his eyes closed and his mouth open. His brow ripples as Ryker’s words sink in, and he looks down at me before averting his gaze, like he’s not sure how to handle my mouth being so close to his cock.
“Wha . . . what?” he asks.
I stroke him again. “Do you always get this wet?”
His cheeks redden, and he flinches slightly before he swallows. “Sorry, I can’t help—”
“Don’t you ever apologise for that,” Ryker says. “We fucking love it.”
“We sure do,” I add before sucking him some more.
Freddie tips his head back, cursing softly.
I ease off, then stroke my tongue over a bead of precum forming at his slit.
I press a gentle kiss to his tiny opening, smothering it with my lips.
Freddie’s tang tingles my tongue, and I keep having to swallow to draw his flavour to the back of my mouth.
He’s sweet, and salty, and the best kind of sour that leaves my jaw aching.
Freddie rocks his hips and Ryker keens as his cock gets rubbed by Freddie’s arse.
I brush my thumb though Freddie’s precum, then use it to slick his shaft. I wrap my fist around the top of him, open it a fraction, then dribble onto his cock, filling my hand-made compartment. I bring it down on him, and he gasps, turning his face into Ryker’s neck as the wet sound fills the room.
Ryker leans his head back too, and curses to the ceiling. I know my brother, I know sounds turn him on as much if not more than visuals.
I keep my hand slow the whole time, and well lubed, which isn’t hard with me wanting to get my saliva all over Freddie, and Freddie free-flowing precum.
I lick, I suck, I feed him deep into my mouth until my cheeks sting and Freddie’s cock is about to blow, then I lift my head and pump him slowly as he shudders.
It takes Freddie a while, but he cracks an eye open and asks me while panting.
“Are you . . . are you edging me?”
“Yes.” I smile. “When it gets too much, you’re going to push my head down and thrust into my mouth.”
Freddie opens both eyes. They’re dark and hazy from arousal.
He shakes his head, but then he moans as I plunge him back into my throat.
His feet lift before settling back on the floor.
Ryker relaxes his grip on Freddie’s body and takes hold of his hand.
He lifts it, places it on my head, then whispers in Freddie’s ear what I just told him.
“When it gets too much, you’re going to push Liam’s head down and thrust into his mouth. ”
I hum around Freddie, loving the sound of my brother telling him what to do.
“I won’t,” Freddie says, and I wonder if he’s fighting with us again, making another last stand.
I pull away, pumping Freddie to keep him close to the edge.
“You will,” I say.
Freddie replies, “I won’t.”
“Then we’re going to be here a long time.” I lap at the head of his cock. “You’re going to have your cock sucked . . . for a long time.”
Freddie shivers, spreading his thighs as much as he can. He thinks he can win by not pushing my head down, that I’ll grow weary and bring his orgasm to completion with the conditions unmet, but he’s underestimated how much I’ll enjoy edging him.
I’ve underestimated it too.
I love it.