Damon
Taking care of Tyler Blakely was definitely one of my favorite things in this world. He was so responsive to every touch that it was almost distracting, just experimenting with what noises I could pull out of him if I caressed him here, scratched lightly there, bit down on that.
He went into the bathroom to prep and came out naked and aroused, but when I pushed him up against the ladder to kiss him, I ended up second-guessing myself. The idea of spanking him senseless while he grabbed onto the ladder rungs, wailing and moaning, was tempting, to say the least. But—despite his jutting cock and his flushed chest and his glowing eyes—I got the feeling he wasn’t looking for something hardcore right them.
“What do you say we move this party to the bed?” I murmured into his ear, before biting gently at the side of his neck. I made sure there would be no mark left, although the idea of bruising him, leaving an obvious claim on him, made my dick ache.
“Yeah,” he murmured back, a small smile on his pretty lips. My cock pulsed hopefully at the sight.
I turned him around and slapped his butt. “Up you go.”
One of the nicest things about this cabin was the view it gave me of Tyler Blakely’s perfect bubble butt as he climbed the ladder up to the bedroom. I had to be careful on the way up not to catch my hard-on with the rungs.
Before long, I got exactly what I’d wanted—that mouth on me, that tongue tickling under my ridge, those enthusiastic sucking noises that drove me crazy. I let him blow me for a while, because I knew how much he liked it—and, okay, maybe because it did a little something for me, too—but after a while, I pulled him up. “I want your other hole tonight,” I said. “You like that idea?”
He nodded, still drooling a little from my dick. “Yessir,” he slurred.
I kissed him while I pressed him back into the pillows. “Ass up or face up?” Sometimes I’d let him ride me, if I wanted him to work for it. But tonight I wanted to own him, dick him down hard and get him off while I did it, which meant taking him on his back, or on his hands and knees. I wanted to earn that sir that he kept giving out, that title that I loved hearing from that talented mouth. The title that I wanted to keep.
“I want to see your face when you come,” he said.
“Good choice.” I wanted to see his, too. So I pushed myself up and repositioned between his thighs, bending his knees into his chest. His crack glistened in the low lights, showing me he’d already lubed up in anticipation, and when I pulled his cheeks a little wider, I could see his hole was slick and puffy. The thought of him fucking himself open with his fingers—maybe a toy, God knew we had enough of them between us—all that work for me, all that prep just for my cock, made the Dominant in me purr with pleasure.
I put my own fingers against his rim, traced the swell of it, and then pressed into him, two fingers, right off the bat. I watched his eyelids grow heavy and sensual, his mouth opening a little. “You loosen up that ass just for me, Blakely?”
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. “Who else?”
I pressed another finger in. “You got that right. This ass is mine.” I swiveled my hand slowly, drawing out a guttural gasp from him, and pumped a few times. “Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right, sir.”
My fingers curled on instinct at the sound of that sir, and he arched up as I brushed just the right place inside him. “Damn straight,” I muttered, and teased his button again. His knees quivered and he gave a half-laugh, eyes closing all the way.
“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been desperate for your dick all day.”
I tugged my fingers out fast, suited up, and slid into that slick, inviting hole. I paused when my balls pressed up against his ass, flexing inside him, letting him know who was boss. But Tyler was already in his sweetest sub mode, everything about him signaling that he was mine in that moment: the glance up through his lashes, the slow and deep breathing, the way he pulled his legs wider to let me in deep…
I fucked him slow, burying myself into his ass as far as I could with each stroke, unhurried, exact, the kind of deep dicking that made him shiver and shake with need. I loved watching him take it like that, loved keeping up that steady rhythm until the whimpers turned into words, until he begged for me to give it to him, harder, faster, the frustration when I stopped altogether, deep in his gut, watching him writhe around underneath me.
I grabbed his face, making him look at me. “I’ll give it to you, if you want it so bad. But if I do, you have to do something for me.”
He gave a breathless, questioning grunt.
“You have to come for me. Just from getting ass-fucked. You think you can do that, Blakely?”
He’d come close to it before. I’d had him on the edge before—for hours once, his dick so over-sensitized he’d actually cried in relief when I’d taken pity and given him a few helping hand strokes. He’d shot on the second tug, a river of cum flooding the sheets.
For the first time in a while, I see the spark of rationality return to his eyes. “I don’t know, sir.” He licks his lips again, presses them together as he pleads with his eyes.
“That’s the only way you get to shoot if you want me jackhammering you,” I tell him. “Or else I keep fucking you nice and slow, just like this, until I fill you up, and then I can jerk you off. But if you want it hard, you come on my dick, or not at all. Up to you.” I flexed my cock inside him again, and he gave a satisfyingly frustrated moan.
“Drill me,” he muttered at last, trying to look away, but I pulled his face back around. “Please, sir.”
I grunted in appreciation, but talk like that was likely to tip me over the edge, make me nut then and there. I wouldn’t have the pleasure of trying to get Blakely to explode hands-free. So I slid my hand over his mouth and told him, “You asked for it.”
I pulled out until his hot ring was clutching around my cockhead, and then I slammed back in, drilling into him just like he’d asked. I could feel his tongue wide and wet under my fingers, and when he sucked them into his mouth, I let him, putting my damp forehead down on the pillow as I drove into his body.
I was getting close, too close, so I turned my face, made sure my lips lined up with his ear, and said, “I’m not kidding, Blakely. You spill while I’m dicking you or you don’t spill at all. You hear me?”
