It feels like exactly where I'm supposed to be.
His hands spread me open, and then his mouth is —
"FUCK!" I nearly scream into the pillow, whole body jerking with shock. No one's ever — I didn't know it could feel — "Knox, oh god, what are you — "
His tongue is inside me. Hot and wet and doing things I didn't know a tongue could do, and I'm already shaking, already falling apart, already making sounds I'll be embarrassed about later.
"So sensitive." He pulls back to bite at my thigh, sharp enough to sting, and I yelp. "And you taste incredible. Could do this for hours."
"Please don't, I'll die, I'll actually die — "
He laughs, dark and pleased, and goes back to taking me apart.
His tongue circles and presses andfucksinto me, and I'm reduced to wordless sounds, face buried in his pillow, hands fisting in his sheets. When he finally,finallyslides one finger in alongside his tongue, I'm already embarrassingly close.
"Don't come yet," he orders, voice rough.
"I can't — Knox, please — "
"You can. You will. Because I told you to." A second finger, stretching me, finding some spot inside that makes my vision white out. "Good boy. So good for me, taking it so well."
The praise hits me like a punch to the gut. I clench around his fingers, whimpering, suddenly desperate in a way I can't explain.
He notices. Of course he notices.
"You like that?" His voice drops even lower, intimate and filthy. "Like being my good boy?"
"Yes, fuck, yes — "
"Like doing what you're told?"
"Yes — "
Three fingers now, scissoring inside me, stretching me open. His other hand reaches around to stroke my cock, and I have to bite the pillow to keep from screaming.
"Then don't come until I'm inside you." He twists his fingers, hitting that spot again, and I sob. "Can you do that for me?"
"I — I don't know if — "
"You can." He bites the curve of my ass, hard enough to leave a mark, and I yelp. "You will. Because you're mine, and you're perfect, and you're going to take my cock so well, aren't you?"
"Yes, yes, please, I need — "
"I know what you need."
He pulls his fingers out and I whine at the loss, empty and aching. I hear the tear of a foil packet, the slick sound of lube, and then the blunt head of him is pressing against me.
"Breathe," he commands, one hand rubbing my back as he pushes in. Slow. So slow. "That's it. Good boy. Taking me so well."
It's almost too much. The stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness. He's so big, and I've never done this,not like this, not with someone who makes me feel like I might shatter into a million pieces.
But then he's fully seated, his hips against my ass, and he makes this sound. This broken, wrecked sound like he's the one falling apart.
"Fuck, Toby." His forehead drops to my shoulder, breath ragged. "So tight. So perfect.Mine."
"Yours," I agree, pushing back against him, testing. The stretch is still intense but the pain is fading, replaced by a fullness that feels right. That feels necessary. "Move, please move — "
He does.
