“Assholes. I’m jealous of them, though.” Kert absent-mindedly played with the suckers on my tentacle, giving me his scent and taste. “I slept in the same room as Two-dicked Marin without knowing how accurate the nickname was. Okay. So it really was magical. I don’t blame those girls, then. Were they after DP?”
“Oh, yeah.” My tentacle wiggled up Marin’s leg and he parted them, letting me taste the warm skin of his inner thigh with my suckers.
“Fuck me, Marin. How come we never talked like that back then?”
“I was high on fucking, but never stopped to think why. Only after I saw you that night, it hit me. Being around you made me horny. So I took that pent-up energy and pumped it into anyone who wanted it. I liked girls, so being anything but straight didn’t cross my mind.”
“And after that?”
“I sampled everyone at the BDSM club in New York who wanted to kneel for me.”
“Kneel huh?” Kert smirked. “How about bend over? Spread legs? I’m game for all of it.”
“This time I know you’re serious.”
“Like a heart attack.” Kert lifted a finger. “I have one condition—exclusivity. I don’t want to share you if I only have a few weeks.”
“That’s fair.” My cocks had lost their appetite for anyone else since Kert announced he was coming to visit. So much so, I canceled my ticket to Greece for family Christmas and told him to spend it with me. I’d never missed the celebration before, but this time I needed the time with Kert. It had already paid off. I’d finally confessed my secrets.
He wiggled in my tentacle nest, ending up with his face against my pec and his ass over my right thigh. Nuzzling my chest, he reached back to lift his t-shirt, exposing his bare cheeks.
I wiggled my tentacle between them. “Is that okay?”
He let out a guttural purr. “Oh, yes. Remember that time your British girlfriend of the week brought fruitcake?”
“Weird change of subject, but okay. I remember. It was nasty.”
“Yup. My safeword is fruitcake.”
I burst out laughing. “That will be easy to remember. It will be mine, too.”
“So now that we have that over with, don’t treat me like I’ll break. I know my limits and I’ll let you know when I don’t like something or when we’re in the yellow territory—way before we reach safewordland.”
I kissed his smart mouth. His confidence was hot. And I was more than ready to oblige my devilish brat.
Chapter Nine
Marin
Igrabbed my phone from the floor and opened the lights app to dim the overhead bulb to a soft red glow, then set the music to slow jazz. Though it had always worked for sexy times for me, with the way I was burning for him, even his German punk rock would work as the background music.
I sent my tentacles exploring his body, his back, abdomen, and between his asscheeks. Leaving a dollop of lubricant, I retreated. He made a displeased noise at the back of his throat and flicked his tail in the air.
“Shh, I want to feel you with my hand.” His balls rested heavy on my palm as I caressed his pucker with my fingertips.
“Please. I’ve waited so long.” Kert pushed back, impaling himself to the first knuckle.
My cocks twitched, going from semi-hard to ready. I was dying to show Kert how much I wanted to rail him until neither of us could move. “Fuck, Kert. You have such a needy hole.” I added another digit and pushed all the way in, my slime doing its job.
“Yes. And I need you inside me.” He flicked his forked tongue over my nipple.
I hissed and pushed his face into me with a tentacle at the back of his head. He latched on, sucking hard enough to send tiny pinpricks of pain-pleasure through me. I pulled my fingers out of him and, as I predicted, he let go to glare at me.
“I need your t-shirt off.” Technically, it was mine. I pulled the hem up, splaying a tentacle on his abs.
He wiggled out of my grip and kneeled in front of me. With one swift move, he pulled the t-shirt off and tossed it aside. His crimson-colored cock bounced between his parted thighs that were dusted with dark hair.
He was uncut, but his foreskin was back, revealing his crown wet with pre-cum. The hoop piercing going through his urethral opening gleamed in the dim light of the room.
