“Sean?” I murmur, pulling back just enough to look at him, his fingers still resting lightly on my face.
“Yeah?”
“Can I… touch you?”
He freezes mid-breath, eyes wide and brows knitting together in confusion—our hands are already tangled,bodies pressed close, and now I’m asking for more. His pulse seems to thrum against my chest. The room feels impossibly small, every second stretching, until I tilt my head slowly toward his tented pants, nodding just enough to leave him no choice but to decide.
“Yeah. Please.” His reply comes out quick, voice pleading.
I stand, guiding him up with me, and my hands find his hips. He starts to sit, but I stop him with a tug at his belt buckle, the soft click of metal loud in the quiet room. His breath stutters as I undo it, sliding his pants down to pool around his ankles.
“Gods,” I whisper.
He’s beautiful—flushed, breathy, every line of him alive. His thighs have the faintest fuzz, so light you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention. The patch of blond hair above his dick matches the color on his head, and his cock points right at me. If my observations from porn are correct, it’s perfectly sized for him.
My mouth goes dry at the thought of what we could do together, what he could do to me. Every inch of him feels impossibly, maddeningly flawless.
I smile around my tusks before I can help it. “You know, in all my IT work, I’ve never seen a device so well optimized.”
Sean huffs a laugh, cheeks pink, eyes shining. “Is that your way of saying you like it?”
I meet his gaze, hand closing around him gently. “Oh, I more than like it. I just hope I don’t void the warranty. Now, be a good boy and sit,” I tease and gently press hisshoulders until his bare ass hits the chair. I lean over and kiss him, returning my hand to his erection, slowly stroking him, a bead of precum adding a slickness as he moans under my touch.
“Fuck yes.” He drops his head back. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want. Tell me I’m your good boy. Please.”
I never took Sean as one for praise kink, but I’ll do whatever my mate asks.
“Just be a good boy, and let me help you feel good.” I grab the cushion from the spare chair, toss it on the floor in front of him, and kneel. “Look at these beautiful, thick thighs…” I run my free hand over one, relishing the dusting of light hair, and I lean over and kiss it. “And your gorgeous cock. Will you be a good boy and tell me when you’re going to come?”
“Uh-huh.” He’s squirming under my touch in the best possible way.
I lean closer, spit on his cock, and stroke faster. His shirt is open—maybe he unbuttoned it, maybe I did—I honestly don’t remember or care. Either way, my free hand slides up, fingers tracing the sprinkle of pale blond hair across his chest. If I please him, maybe he’ll want to do it again. Or perhaps even more.
My fingers find his nipple. It’s perky, which means he’s enjoying himself. I squeeze it carefully, just enough so he feels it, but not too much that I hurt him. Even without a piercing, he groans. Then makes another sound—a whimper—as he thrusts his hips and fucks into my grip.
“Good boy, Sean. Good boy.” I drag out the words, making sure he feels the timbre in my voice. “Fuck my hand like a good boy.”
He does exactly what I ask, plunging into me as I stroke faster. His dick leaks even more precum, and his breath comes in quick, shallow bursts. I want to lick him. Suck him. Have him thrust into my mouth. But then I sense the tiniest twitching through his hips. He’s close—so close. A ripple of delight whips through me knowing I’ve done this to him.
I know humans don’t produce the same amount of cum as orcs; their release is a gentle drizzle compared to mine. But something about Sean tells me he might surprise me. Almost everything about him has so far.
“Greg. I’m close… I’m gonna…”
I jerk him faster, hand roaming his chest, letting it fill my palm—and when he comes, it’s somehow adorable. The blond swoop of hair on his forehead trembles, falling over his eyes as he gasps and paints his stomach. Gods, he’s cute.
I stand over him, tilting his chin up to meet my gaze. “Sean… you’re my good boy, aren’t you?”
He nods, and I press my lips to his. I taste his ragged, panting breath, hand still wrapped around his hard cock, moving slowly, deliberately, making sure I’ve milked every last drop from my mate.
I lower my face, following a trail of his release down to just above his cock. My tongue laps at every sweet drop of his cum, savoring the warm, saltiness as I kiss and lick my way across his skin.
“What about you?” Sean murmurs, fingers tugging at my waistband. My cock is straining against the fabric, aching to be freed—but here, now, there’s no way I could clean up the mess I’d make.
“I, uh… see, the thing is… well, you know how Splatters squirt in your mouth?”
“Greg, I know how an orgasm works.”
“Okay, but imagine a million of them squirting. At once. No, wait. A zillion.”
