Kit didn’t want to have to answer. He buried his face in the pillow and kept his butt high, showing Quin he should continue.
Quin resumed, licking and sucking at Kit’s pucker until Kit was writhing on the bed, wanting—needing—more. Quin dipped his tongue inside of Kit, and it was all he could do not to come right then and there.
Kit’s hands fisted into the sheets by his head. It felt like every nerve ending in his body lit up, and he considered pressing a hand to his chest to see if his heart had suddenly decided to beat again. Every warm lap at his hole from Quin’s tongue made Kit want to whimper and beg for more. Only his last modicum of pride stopped him from doing so.
But Quin kept going, far beyond just ensuring Kit’s physical readiness for a finger or two. God, Kit could even feel Quin’s saliva dripping down towards his taint. It was dirty in the best possible way, and it lit a fire inside of Kit that no wave could extinguish.
“Please,” he whined, thrusting his hips back as much as he was able. Fuck dignity. Kit didn’t need it. At least, not as much as he needed Quin to penetrate him with something other than his tongue.
Quin huffed against Kit’s hole. “I thought you might have lost the ability to speak for a while there. If you want something, you know how to ask for it.”
“Please, Daddy,” Kit said, in the politest tone he could muster. His entire body was tender with need. His request must have been polite enough, because an oiled finger soon appeared at his hole.
Kit gasped as Quin pressed his finger inside. This wasn’t like when Kit did this to himself. Quin’s fingers were large, long, thick, and so obviously not Kit’s own.
He liked it.
But then Kit thought about how Lawrence had sometimes made him like it. Unwanted memories filtered in: Kit coming when Lawrence jacked him off whilst feeding from his inner thigh. Kit begging Lawrence to stop fucking him after going four rounds already. Kit being instructed to finger himself to get ready for Lawrence?—
“Baby boy?” Quin’s voice cut through the barrage of images that were assaulting him. He’d stopped touching Kit, keeping only the barest of contact where his hands hovered around Kit’s waist.
Kit whimpered. He hated how, even now, Lawrence ruined him.
Quin switched up his hold, his hands moving to rub down Kit’s back in soothing motions. Kit relaxed again as he focused on how Quin’s big, calloused hands were so different from Lawrence’s slim, violating fingers.
“You tensed up,” Quin said. “Do you want to stop?”
Kit turned his head on the pillow, and Quin leaned over to catch his eye. Quin looked so concerned that Kit was glad he’d shown his face, even if only for a second. “No, Daddy,” he said. “Please continue.”
Quin’s smile was so fond that Kit couldn’t help but give him one back. Damn werewolf was making him soft.
“Now, Daddy,” Kit instructed, pressing his face down into the pillow once more.
Quin snorted a laugh. “Whatever you want, baby boy.”
It didn’t take long for Quin to make Kit come. It was a foregone conclusion once he found his prostate. Quin focused all of his energy there, two fingers curling inside of Kit and rubbing. If Kit hadn’t been so wrung out from shooting all over the bed, he might have contemplated how such a small thing could cause such an extreme response.
Instead of letting him lie there, Quin pulled Kit back up onto all fours. He drew Kit’s cock back between his legs, stroking it as his other hand stayed under Kit’s hip to keep him from falling back down.
“Oh, god,” Kit said as Quin fondled his balls. They were still sensitive from coming.
“You can take it,” Quin assured him.
So Kit did. His limbs trembled as Quin switched between fingering him and tugging on his cock. Quin dripped more oil onto his hole, the vanilla and jasmine scent now bathing every corner of the room. Quin’s fingers pressed deep once more. At one point, Quin held his hand in place, using his grip on Kit’s hip to push and pull him onto his fingers, making Kit’s own body do the work. It might have been humiliating had it been with someone else, but even when manhandling Kit, Quin showed such care that Kit could only focus on how he was building towards another peak.
Kit shuddered when he came again, his entire body lighting up like he was aflame. It must have taken him some time to recover, as he felt as if the afterglow had lasted for hours by the time he came back to himself.
“Do you think you can come for a third time?” Quin asked, with a not-insignificant amount of satisfaction.
“I can’t,” Kit gasped. Three was far too many. His past threatened to creep in again, but Quin’s quiet, contemplative hum brought him back to the here and now.
“If you don’t want to,” Quin said in a soft voice, “tell me to stop and I won’t. I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want, baby. But if you mean you think you’re physicallyincapable, then let me make it clear—I can do it. More than that, Iwantto make it happen for you.”
Kit smiled down into the pillow, pleased Quin couldn’t see how ridiculously relieved he was. “Okay.”
“So that’s a yes?” Quin prodded.
“Yes. Big yes.”
