“Tell me what you want.”
It took a second for Ever to process the request. The demand, rather. I gave him that time. I’d give him anything that kept him in this state where he was turned on out of his mind, but also so fucking confident in the way he stood before me.
“Fuck my thighs,” he said. Taking one tentative step closer, he grabbed my hand and moved it to the edge of his corset. “Fuck my thighs against that cross, and then feed me your cock before you come.”
“Okay.”
“You can do whatever with my balls,” he said while walking toward the cross. As if my cock wasn’t straining against my jeans already. As if I wasn’t trying to visualize anything that would keep me from shooting my load right here and now. “Or with anything else, really. I just want you to…tell me, to show me, that my whole body is yours. That I only get your cum in my ass when you deem it so.”
Fucking hell.
Pushing my hand against my cock, I cut the distance between us. Part of me thought I was supposed to tell him that he deserved everything, that he would always deserve everything, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do or give him. The other part reeled the impulse in, because if he deserved everything, he also deserved this, whatever he got out of the humiliation or the teasing or any other name he’d use to describe it.
“Where’s lube?”
I might be gone for him, and I might not have done this before with anyone—intercrural, was it?—but I could tell I’d need something to slick the way if I didn’t want to end with the worst burn against my skin.
He was the only masochist out of the two of us.
“The white wardrobe,” he said. “The black one has water and granola bars and blankets and other stuff.”
“Got it.”
Note to self: get him some of that water after I was done with him. Later, though.
“I love how easy you are.” I hummed. The bottle of lube was easy to find and unopened. I didn’t know if that was by design or pure luck, but I unwrapped the plastic sealing it, and dropped a large dollop on my hand before placing it back on the wardrobe. Ever’s choice of outfit meant I didn’t have to worry about his clothes too much other than lowering his fishnets. Then, I just slathered his inner thighs with the lube and grinned when he squirmed while grabbing hold of the cross. “There’s no thoughts on that head of yours, are there? Beyond how to get fucked and used as often as physically possible.”
Another whimper slipped out at the same time as he arched his back. It created the most beautiful curve on his spine, the corset only emphasizing his natural grace, the sensuality he’d stumbled upon and grown into in the years we’d been apart.
There was no fucking way that was happening again anytime soon. I was going to be here for every growth, every realization, every bit of confidence he gained back.
“Answer me, Ever.”
More whimpers. I unzipped my jeans, dragged them down to my ankles, and managed to step out of them while stroking my cock. While my gaze zeroed in on the lube sliding down his thighs before I slid my cock in there.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Squeeze.”
Fuck, dominance was still not my thing, regardless of the honorifics and the titles he used on me, but the way he obeyed so beautifully? It was hard to think the whole world wouldn’t make an exception to their preferences for him. No one would look at the way he was panting already, gone with the need to please, to do as he was told, and pass up on the chance of tasting what he was offering. What he was giving me.
“Good girl,” I grunted. My hips seemed to thrust of their own volition, too heated up to care if the thing we were fucking was an actual hole or the gap between his thighs, so long as there was skin and body heat to rut against. “You’re so fucking good. So perfect.”
With a groan, I bent forward enough that I could cover his hands with mine. We so weren’t using the cross the way it was meant to, but I couldn’t care less about it. There was only Ever and the sounds he made and the attempts he made to meet my thrusts, to squeeze tighter, to bend so that he might get some stimulation to his neglected balls.
The plan started to form as I felt my own balls pulling up, tightening.
“On your knees.”
There wasn’t a need for explanation. As if I was pulling his strings, Ever turned around and fell onto the floor, the thudof his knees against the wood resounding across the room. I wanted to check that he was all right, but he engulfed me before I could. It had to taste foul, the lube getting in the way, making him choke. He didn’t pull away, though. He just took me to the root, let me thrust the couple of times I needed to shoot my cum down his throat.
“Get on the swing.”
I pushed the words out before I could succumb to the urge to fall beside him and simply relish in his warmth. I wanted that, but he was nowhere near there, nowhere near as flushed and undone as I knew I could make him. It wouldn’t do if I didn’t push him to the limit. If I didn’t reward him for how fucking good he’d done on that makeshift stage.
Ever scrambled, his knees buckling for a second before he was rushing to the contraption of leather and steel chains. The whole thing rattled under his weight while he climbed up on the seat, grabbing onto the chains that connected that seat to the cuffs for support. Or maybe he was offering himself up to me, making it easier for me to yank him up and buckle the cuffs around his wrists.
“Color?”
