“Source save me,” Cirian muttered, his muscles tensing as he desperately clutched the cushion behind him.
Raising off till only his head remained in my mouth, I descended, pumping his cock with my mouth. The noises coming from him ceased any resemblance to words, and with each pass of my tongue, they grew louder.
“Hold on,” he pleaded after a moment. “Hold on, hold on.”
I lifted off of him, looking up along the slope of his body to his adorable face.
“Are you close already?” I asked him, leaving an edge in my voice. “I’m nowhere near done with you, Cirian.”
His chest heaved as he looked at me, his breathing coming in rasps. He was nearly out of his mind, his skin burning hot against mine. He needed release. I wanted him to come undone. To break apart at my touch. It was what he was made for.
“Robe,” he finally managed, lifting his head from the sofa cushion. “Check the pocket.”
I pulled myself away long enough to find the discarded garment, then probed the pocket. A small glass phial fell into my hand, a viscous oil sloshing within. When I looked back at Cirian, he’d already turned away from me on the sofa, arching his back to present his ass.
“Is this what you want?” I asked, rising to my feet with the phial in hand.
He nodded, his face buried into the cushion, and wiggled his hips in a desperate display.
“Hmm. I don’t know if you’ve earned the reward you’re asking for.”
Cirian removed himself from the cushion to glance over his shoulder. “Please, Bast. I can’t take it anymore.”
I stepped forward, bringing my hand down on the mound of his ass with a smack. He let out another whimper.
“You’ll have to ask better than that.”
“Please, Bastien,” Cirian spoke, eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “I want you. Ineedyou.”
“That’s better,” I told him, removing the stopper from the phial and pouring a drizzle of the clear liquid directly between the mounds of his ass. He jerked as the cold oil trailed down the crevasse, burying his head into the cushion once again. I trailed a finger down the river of slick, guiding it toward the destination of his waiting hole. With gentle pressure, I pressed into him, the stretch of his muscle tight against my finger as it worked inside.
A muffled groan told me that this would be slow work. Cirian may have been eager, but he was obviously suffering from the same neglect I had felt over the past months. He would need to be prepped for the task at hand, and luckily for him, I took no greater pleasure than the work of preparation.
More oil from the phial and I inserted my finger once again, the squeeze of his hole slightly less intense as I pushed deeper into the warmth of him. Reaching forward with my unoccupied hand, I seized a fistful of his auburn hair, tugging until his head dislodged from the cushions.
“Don’t deny me the fruits of my labor. I want to hear you, Cirian.”
He glanced over a shoulder flushed with color. “Such a change of heart. You’ve told me repeatedly to keep quiet today.”
“There is a time and place for everything,” I replied, working my finger in a circular motion till he let out a pent breath. “Let this be the place. Let this be the time. I will make you break, and then I will make you mine.”
Cirian groaned as I tightened my fist, pulling him backward.
“Gods, do whatever you want, Bast. Just don’t stop.”
That was all the permission I needed, and I added a second finger into the warm embrace of his hole. Cirian did not hide himself from me again as I stretched him, and after a third finger, his hips began to move with an urgency that I couldhardly match. His back was a masterpiece, sprawled open for me to marvel at the way the low light glistened off the smooth, alabaster muscles. The curve of his hips as he arched, giving himself over completely to the pleasure of our task. And with each passing moment, the urge to bury myself inside of him threatened to overwhelm me.
Abruptly, Cirian collapsed forward onto the sofa, turning over on his side to glance up at me with dark eyes clouded with lust.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, worried that I may have pushed a limit in my eagerness.
He turned over completely, wrapping both legs around my waist and pulling me closer so that our cocks collided, sending waves of pleasure up my spine.
“No,” Cirian answered, the strength of his legs holding me in place. “I’m just tired of waiting.”
“Are you certain?” I asked despite the debilitating want burning in my gut.
He lifted himself onto his elbows, tossing strands of hair from his eyes as he stared me down. “Stick your cock in me this instant, Bastien, or I’m going to pin you down and do it myself.”
