I didn’t answer him, taking the time to enjoy his body a bit longer. “Lie down and find out.”
“Sounds promising.” Without missing a beat, his wings vanished, and he crashed to the bed, making a loud thump as he bounced on the mattress.
I slipped up on the side of the bed and crawled over to him until my forearms and legs were straddling his lower half.
He lifted his head to better his view. “God, I love seeing your junk hanging down like that. Fuck!”
I lowered my head and took most of his engorged cock in my mouth in one swallow, as much as I could take of it at any rate. I felt him swell between my lips.
The mattress shifted as his head fell back against it. “Oh, and that. I love that. When you take my cock after it’s been inside of you like that. Damn, man.”
I continued to rise up and down on his cock, using my arms to bench press my body above him. It only took a few seconds for my anger and frustration to manifest. My speed increased, sweat pouring from me, my arms beginning to tingle with the effort. The faster I went, the deeper his cock slammed into my throat. Occasionally, I paused at the base of his shaft and bit just hard enough to elicit a groan and for me to taste precum.
When his cock was throbbing and close to ejaculation, Schwint grabbed me under the arms and pulled me up and over his body, until I was straddling his waist. He held his breath, trying to get control over his orgasm. Finally, he looked up at me. “You’re killing me, you know that?”
Grasping his cock with one quick motion, I impaled myself upon him, slamming his entire length into me once more. Feeling it stretch me further as it swelled to its full girth. Both of us let out a yell—Schwint in surprised pleasure, me in sharp pain.
I remained motionless, eyes slammed shut, my breath stolen by the searing pain at the abrupt intrusion into my already sore entrance. I felt Schwint’s fingers trace over my stomach and up my chest, soothing me, while his other hand made similar effleurage strokes over my penis.
After many moments and several more deep breaths, the pain began to transition to pleasure once more. In an effort to prolong it, I began to ride him, never letting my body completely relax to the point of full pleasure.
Nothing else remained in my mind. No worry. No anger. No fear. Atop him, I was in control, both the pain and pleasure the only sensations my body and mind were able to register.
I continued to ride him, shoving him into me over and over with quick, long plunges. Even after Schwint emptied into me again, I continued to ride him, his erection only softening slightly before filling me completely once more.
After a time, when the pain was bordering on leaving me numb, Schwint began to stroke me again. His hands transitioned from pulling on my balls to gentle sweeps that passed over them, up my shaft, then continued on over my stomach, chest, and shoulders.
At his motions, I slowed my pace, once again becoming receptive to the feel of him inside me, the numbness giving way to pleasure.
Still I rode on, bringing both of us to the edge, then pausing long enough for us to regain control, shoving his hands off my body, then riding once more.
Schwint’s hand returned and continued up my chest, snaking around my neck, then pulling me down to him, our lips nearly touching. Still he pushed into me, the angle making it where he nearly slipped out before sliding in again. “I love you, Finn.”
The sight of him was blurry as I was caught in the slow rhythm of our bodies. “I love you too.”
“We’re gonna get through this. All of us.” His hand cupped my face, his thumb caressing my cheek.
I couldn’t answer him, but lowered a little farther until our lips met once more.
Pulling away, I rose above him, allowing him full access to my penis, and my cadence increased.
I shot all over Schwint’s stomach and chest mere seconds before I felt him emptying into me yet again.
Completely spent, I let myself fall to the bed beside him, my head coming to rest on his slick chest, my body curving into his before we fell asleep.
Nineteen
FINN DE MORISCO
Pausing tocatch my breath, I placed my knuckles on the door, prepared to knock.
“Why do you still do that?”
I looked over at Schwint. “Do what?”
“Knock.” He gestured at the copper door. “He’s never answered. Not once.”
Shrugging, I let my hand fall and spoke between gasps for air. “You’re right. Just habit, I guess.” I glared over his shoulder at his wings. “Would it really hurt for you to actually walk up the stairs?”
