Chapter Thirty-Three #2
I grip his thighs on instinct, voice rough and shocked in the dark. “What are you doing, Christopher?”
His silhouette shrugs above me, then he rolls his hips down, grinding against me slowly. A low groan tears out of my throat, my cock hardening beneath him.
I reach over blindly and smack the lamp on the nightstand. The warm, dim light fills the room just enough to see him, perfect.
Kit looks sinful, flushed cheeks, and messy curls. I grin, dark and hungry, my hands sliding up to grip his waist. I want to kiss him so fucking badly, deep and filthy.
I squeeze his hips instead, voice rough. “You sure about this, baby?”
He doesn’t answer with words. He just rolls his hips again, with a soft, needy sound that shoots straight through me.
Fuck it. I sit up slightly, one arm wrapping around his back to keep him steady, and reach over to the nightstand.
I grab the bottle of lube, flicking the cap open with my thumb.
Kit watches every movement, breathing already shaky.
I coat my fingers generously, then slide my hand between us, reaching into his boxers. I press one slick finger against his hole, rubbing slow circles first, teasing.
“Easy, baby,” I murmur. “Gonna open you up nice and slow.”
Kit whimpers when I push the first finger inside. I work him open carefully, curling my finger, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. When he starts rocking back against my hand, I add a second finger, scissoring gently.
“That’s it,” I growl softly, mesmerised by the way he takes me.
I keep stretching him, slow and filthy, until he’s panting and grinding down on my fingers. Only then do I pull them out.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of Kit’s boxers and slowly drag them down his thighs, just far enough to free his cock and expose his ass.
I don’t take them off completely, I like the way they look bunched around his legs, a messy reminder that he’s still half-dressed and desperate for me.
I slick my cock, coating every inch, then line myself up.
The blunt head presses against his tight hole, and I push forward with painstaking slowness.
Kit’s breath catches sharply as the head pops inside. I groan deep in my chest at the scorching, vice-like heat that immediately grips me. I pause there, letting him adjust, my hands holding his hips in a firm but careful grip.
I feed him another inch, watching his face the entire time. Kit moans softly, head falling back, his hands clutching desperately at my shoulders. His thighs tremble around me.
I fight every single instinct I have not to slam the rest of the way in. Instead, I rock forward gradually, sinking deeper and deeper, savouring the way his body opens up for me, inch by tight, burning inch.
When I’m finally buried to the hilt, I hold completely still, chest heaving as I press my forehead against his.
“Fuck… so tight,” I breathe against his skin. “You feel perfect.”
I start moving, slow, deep rolls of my hips, grinding up into him. Kit’s moans are soft and breathy at first, but the longer I fuck him like this, the louder he gets. I can feel him starting to chase it, trying to ride me.
My control slips. I grip his hips tighter and start thrusting up harder, faster, the wet slap of skin filling the room. Kit cries out, nails digging into my shoulders.
“That’s it, baby,” I growl, voice turning filthy. “Take my cock. Take every fucking inch like the greedy little hole you are.”
Kit sobs a moan, head thrown back, scar stark and beautiful in the lamplight. I can’t stop staring at him, ruined and desperate, mine.
Then, without warning, Kit’s hands grip my wrists, pushing my hands off his hips. I still instantly, confused.
“Stay still,” he whispers, voice shaky but firm.
He looks down at me with something new flickering in his eyes, confidence, hunger, a spark of power I’ve never seen from him before. I’m stunned silent. This is new; I’ve never given up control, not like this.
Kit bites his lip, then starts moving, slow rolls of his hips, fucking himself on my cock. A guttural groan rips out of my throat as he takes me deeper, grinding down in tight circles. My back arches slightly off the bed without my permission, a sharp hiss escaping through my teeth.
“Fuck… Kit…”
He doesn’t stop. He rides me with growing confidence, hands braced on my chest, using my body for his own pleasure. Every downward slide is tight and perfect. I grip the sheets instead of his hips, fighting the overwhelming urge to flip him over and pound into him.
My breathing is ragged. My abs are tight, thighs trembling beneath him. This feeling, surrendering control, letting him use me, is foreign and addictively intense. It’s making my head spin.
Kit watches me fall apart underneath him. The sight of him taking what he wants, gaining confidence with every roll of his hips, does something dangerous to me. I’ve never felt anything like it.
Then he reaches down between us, wraps his fingers around himself, swiping over the tip, collecting the slick pre-come. Without hesitation, he leans forward and pushes those wet fingers past my lips and onto my tongue.
I groan, shocked, loud, and filthy, the taste of him exploding in my mouth.
I moan around his fingers, voice wrecked. “I’m gonna come already…”
The words are barely out before I have to clench every muscle in my body to hold back. I need him to finish first; I refuse to come before he does. The restraint is brutal, my hips twitching with the effort not to thrust up and ruin his rhythm.
Kit looks down at me, eyes dark and proud, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. That look alone nearly undoes me.
Desperate for something to anchor myself, I reach up, grab the back of his neck, and pull his mouth down to my chest. I press his lips against my nipple.
The moment his tongue flicks over it, he moans loudly, the vibration shooting straight through me.
He sucks harder, tongue swirling, teeth grazing just enough.
The sensation is shockingly intense, something I’ve never let anyone do before.
It finishes him off without warning. Kit cries out against my chest, his whole body seizing as he comes hard between us, painting my stomach and chest in hot, thick stripes. His hole clenches rhythmically around my cock, milking me with every pulse.
The second I feel him fall apart; I let go.
I growl deep in my throat, grip his hips with both hands, and thrust up hard, chasing my own release.
The orgasm hits me intensely, blinding, and longer than I’ve ever experienced.
I come so hard my vision whites out for a second, flooding deep inside him in heavy, endless spurts.
Kit buries his face in my neck, still twitching around me. I wrap my arms around him, one hand stroking slowly up and down his back, the other cradling the back of his head.
“Kit,” I rasp, voice hoarse. “That was…”
I don’t even have the words.