“I think I would like that,” I admit.
I shift restlessly as the finger runs down my chest. It circles my nipples, and I moan as he pinches one. The sound is thin and thready in the stillness, and he pauses for a long second, his eyes hungry. Then he does the same to the other, pulling and twisting it until it’s swollen and throbbing to its own tiny beat. And all thetime he sits there, his hands on his thighs and his golden eyes bright and avid.
The invisible touch moves down, tracing the lines of my ribs and moving in to circle my belly button. My cock is hard and throbbing, its head glossy, but he ignores it and traces my hip and then inwards, tracking the place where my thigh meets my groin. He lingers there, stroking through my pubic hair.
I shift from foot to foot, aching and suddenly desperate to get his hands on me. “Touch me,” I plead.
“I am.”
“More.” I grip my cock. “Touch me here. I need it so badly.”
I curse as the invisible finger swats my hand away and then goes back to tracing my hips. It moves around, skimming over my buttocks, and his eyes are full of want.
“These sweet curves leading to those long legs. Beautiful.” He pinches my bum, smiling as I curse, and then as quick as a flash, the touch moves and sweeps down the length of my cock.
My shout is loud, and I sincerely hope there aren’t any more magical creatures around. Then I forget my concerns as the one finger becomes three. He rubs across my belly, and before I can speak, he wraps them around my cock. I look down, and it’s odd to see my foreskin being pulled up and down as the invisible hand jerks me off.
“I can’t work out whether this is weird or the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I admit.
His chuckle is low and filthy. “Can it not be both?”
“Good point.” I stand taller and tilt my hips into his touch. “It’s so good,” I breathe. The grip is perfect—hard but not too hard, gathering my precome to grease the slide and lowering occasionally to cup and squeeze my balls.
I’m on the edge before I even notice the heat sparking down my spine and gathering in the base of my cock. I shove into his fist and then cry out as the touch vanishes.
“No. Come back,” I say, panting. I grip my shaft, needing just one more stroke to come.
“No,” he says firmly.
I drop my hand. He’s watching me with an avid, restless gleam in his eyes.
“Come and ride me,” he says hoarsely.
I start towards him instantly, no thought of holding out, needing him inside me more than I need to breathe. “You’re still dressed. That is not a good state of affairs.”
He gives a lazy flick of his hand, and his clothes immediately vanish, leaving him sitting naked on the grass, leaning back against the wall of one of the ruins.
My eyes narrow. “Why didn’t you do that for me?”
He winks. “Where would the fun be in that,elskling?”
I shake my head, and in two strides, I’m standing over him, straddling his thighs. He looks beautiful, almost fey, with the moonlight limning the sharp angles of his bone structure. He stretches his long legs out and fists his huge cock. The gold Prince Albert piercing catches the moonlight and gleams coldly. “Come here.”
I lower myself into his lap and wind my arms around his neck. I tug and he bends easily, taking my mouth with a soft sigh that sounds like happiness. Our lips cling, and our tongues tangle as our hands begin to roam. He cups my shoulders and then traces the length of my spine, and I groan as he fists our cocks together in one big hand. The feeling as they slide together is sublime. He’s leaking precome everywhere, and it makes everything warm and silky smooth—like lying in a bath and touching myself. His cock is rock hard, and I writhe against it, pressing down and watching our lengths moving in and out of his grip.
I kiss him again, tugging at his lip with my teeth and pulling back before licking into his mouth, and all while grinding onhim. His other hand moves restlessly, his nails biting into my buttocks as he cups one, pulling me even tighter against him.
I pull away with a cry, my head falling back. “I want you inside me. I want to ride you.”
He lets go of our cocks, and the cold air is a shock to my overheated skin. I grab his shoulders and lift my hips, but when the flared head presses my opening, I freeze. “Lube?” I say. “You’ll tear me apart with that thing.”
He lowers his head, resting his face against my throat. I can feel the tickle of his eyelashes. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” I say instantly, the sincerity stark.
He meets my gaze and the flames in his eyes dance in the molten depths. “I can take you without lube. You do not need it. I produce all you need.”
That quiet admission turns me on unbearably. “You can?”
