Chapter Twenty-One #2
Ainder turned his mouth’s endeavors to Ethyr’s neck and ear, sucking and nibbling as he worked his fingers in rhythm.
Ethyr quickly got past his shock to find pleasure in the sensation.
With his chest pressed to Ainder’s for leverage, he rocked back into the thrusts, desperate for filling friction. It wasn’t nearly enough.
He dug his face against Ainder’s shoulder, fumbling one hand down the god’s torso and into his lap until he made contact with the appendage there. Ainder’s breath on his neck was moist and hot, but the thrusting fingers in his ass were becoming drier and less satisfying.
“Please fuck me,” Ethyr mumbled into his shoulder, breathless and desperate. “Please.”
“Gladly.” Ainder’s next nibble was more a bite, and Ethyr jumped with the sharp vise of teeth.
“You don’t have to beg.” He paused and Ethyr could feel the curve of his lips against his skin.
“Though I’m certainly not against it.” He took his fingers back and tugged at the strings on the sides of Ethyr’s pants, pulling them loose.
The fabric crumpled down his thighs but he wasn’t given time to take them off, Ainder flopping to his back and dragging Ethyr’s hips forward to be flush against his.
“I’ll be nice and let you control the entry.” He flashed a grin. “But you’d better put on a good show.”
The music had stopped. Ethyr didn’t have a clue when that had happened. He looked around to see the gods watching him instead. A vicious heat stung his face, matched exactly by a hot satisfaction that settled into the bottom of his stomach. He tried to catch his breath.
“What do I do?”
The question seemed to delight Ainder. His fingers slipped under his thighs. “I’ll hold your weight and you take your time.”
He swallowed and nodded, lifting off Ainder.
The front and back of his tunic covered up everything, which he supposed wasn’t much of a ‘good show,’ but he couldn’t be bothered with it right then.
He found the god’s erection under the fabric and lined it up as best he could with shaking hands and a pounding heart.
He sucked in a deep breath and let himself settle into Ainder’s grip.
He held him up without a hint of difficulty.
“Now relax and open,” he instructed, fingers digging into his ass.
Ethyr braced a hand on Ainder’s stomach and, the other holding his cock in place, lowered onto it.
Ainder’s support stopped him from going too far, so the slow rhythm he started with picked up speed as his confidence of avoiding pain rose.
Every slide grew easier as Ainder’s arousal provided lubrication.
As Ethyr lowered, the feeling of it had him moaning shamelessly.
Ainder dropped his head back with a moan of his own.
“Fuck,” he huffed. “That’s wet enough, isn’t it? Don’t you want all of me?”
“I do,” Ethyr panted.
“Then sit back.”
“I’ve never seen Ainder with this much restraint,” Langath commented mildly.
“Fuck you,” Ainder said through grit teeth, not opening his eyes. His fingers dug commandingly into Ethyr’s ass and he obeyed, sitting back. Ainder let him go and he sank the last notch with a cry, weight rested on Ainder’s hips and buried to the hilt.
He gasped for breath, basking in the feeling of being stuffed full.
But eventually, he needed more, needed friction.
He went slow at first, eyes squeezed shut as he focused only on the delicious sensations.
Then, the last of his uncharacteristic restraint apparently gone, Ainder gripped Ethyr’s thighs and set his own pace.
He pulled Ethyr down into his thrusts, wrenching senseless cries from him.
When Ethyr matched his speed, Ainder went faster.
His mindless scrabbling for support became clawing as he felt a heady wave of pleasure overcome him. His nails dug into Ainder’s sides and he got out only one word—“I’m”—before the burst of rapture took the rest of his words and breath away.
He slumped over, catching his breath as the high subsided and left only an uncomfortable sheen of sweat. It left too much room for the black mass in Ethyr’s chest to consume him.
He refused. He’d consume it first.
Fingers gripped his chin and he lifted his gaze to Ainder’s pleased smirk. “Now that was a good show.”
“Fill me up again,” he breathed.
Ainder’s eyebrows twitched together. “What?”
“Kiss me,” Ethyr said urgently. “Give me more.”
“Are you sure?” Ainder asked, voice measured in cautious disbelief.
“Yes,” he replied breathlessly.
“Don’t.” Kiaro’s voice was like a knife through the passioned tension in the room.
Ethyr glanced up. Ainder twisted around to scowl at him but Kiaro’s eyes didn’t move from Ethyr’s.
“You’re not going to get what you want out of this,” Kiaro warned him.
Ethyr scrunched his face. “You don’t know what I want.” Kiaro straightened, looking genuinely hurt by the retort.
“Yeah,” Ainder said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “Join the fun or fuck off, frosty.”
Kiaro’s jaw clenched. His eyes darted back to Ethyr, imploring. Ethyr set his own jaw and flattened himself to Ainder’s torso, kissing him hard.
Ainder gripped his face, crushing their lips together, and the fire in Ethyr’s belly rekindled and sparked straight to his groin. When he sat up, Kiaro was gone.
He pulled off Ainder, which the god gave an unhappy murmur about, but let him go.
He stepped out of his pants. The gods watched him with varying degrees of amused admiration or hesitant confusion.
Catocus was in the first category, watching Ethyr with a smile and raised eyebrows.
When Ethyr pressed close to him, his face dropped to surprise.
“Really?” he asked, hands resting on Ethyr’s waist.
Ethyr nodded, scooting closer to straddle one leg with his knees. “You want me, don’t you?” he asked softly.
Catocus closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Ethyr’s neck.
“You have no idea how long,” he murmured.
The words satiated something deep inside him.
Ethyr pulled his face up and kissed him.
Catocus was forceful, like Ainder, but unlike Ainder it was not unfettered lust driving it, only a kind of desperate desire.
Any temperance the gods were exercising to respect Ethyr’s inexperience vanished at his advances to Catocus.
Gallus pressed against his back, sandwiching him between his and Catocus’s torsos, and tongued Ethyr’s neck.
Varuut leaned in too, using her mouth on the side Gallus wasn’t taking up and hand snaking under his tunic to caress him with a light, teasing touch.
Catocus’s warm fingers drove into the openings on the tunic sides to grip indents into his skin.
The deluge of touch was suffocating and thrilling and gratifying. The constriction of three bodies, the moist pressure of three mouths, the hot touch of six hands. He melted into them. He didn’t know who tugged at his top but he helped peel it off and returned hungrily to Catocus’s lips.
Someone pushed him back and he obediently reclined, nestling into Gallus’s lap as Catocus spread his legs.
He sank deep into him in one long, easy lunge.
Ethyr wrapped his arms and legs around him, barely aware of Varuut’s hand playing in his hair or Gallus’s fingers at his nipples, focused only on Catocus’s flexing muscles beneath his grip.
Where Ainder had been fast and rough, Catocus went deep and hard.
The friction of Catocus splitting him open drove him mad.
He thought he would tear apart. He begged for it.
“Don’t finish him,” Ainder’s voice said above them.
“Why not?” Catocus groaned. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
“We all have, but his mortal body won’t have the stamina.”
Catocus stopped ramming viciously into him. “You finished him,” he accused.
“Catocus.”
He pulled out with a sigh, and the sudden absence, of cock or pleasure, was almost violent in its effect on Ethyr. He could breathe again, he could feel the tile against his back, but his body burned with aching, craving lust.
“Don’t stop—please—”
“Don’t worry, you won’t be empty for long,” Ainder told him, voice heavy with amusement.
Ethyr turned with Ainder to look at Varuut, though it took him a second to recognize her male form.
Aside from his first day with the gods, she always appeared unmistakably feminine, but her soft features and shapely curves were gone, replaced with broad shoulders and lean muscle.
Her long pink hair and tan skin remained the same, which was how Ethyr realized it was her.
Her flowing garments vanished, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Is this acceptable?” She gestured to her male body. Ethyr swallowed hard and nodded.
Varuut took Catocus’s place in front of Ethyr. He stared up at her. Him?
“You alright, love?” she asked sweetly, brushing hair from the sweat on his forehead.
“You…” She didn’t have the same strong jaw and defined muscles of Catocus, but there was no denying her perfect proportions. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered.
Varuut’s eyebrows rose, then she laughed and squeezed Ethyr’s face between her palms, kissing his lips.
“So are you.” Her kisses trailed down his neck.
He lifted his chin, softening into Varuut’s arms as they wrapped around him.
Gallus joined again, layering kisses along Ethyr’s shoulders, arms snaking under Varuut’s and between their torsos to find Ethyr’s chest. He only had to graze his sensitive and puckering nipples for Ethyr to feel it straight to his groin.
He leaned his head back against Gallus and closed his eyes, breath shaking with desire.
“P-please,” he mumbled.
“He’s begging again,” Ainder tsked.
“Seems like it,” Gallus murmured against his skin. Varuut stopped sucking kisses on his neck and returned to his mouth for one last, lingering kiss before she sat back and turned Ethyr over.