Sebastian doesn’t respond right away. “Hmm. That’s true,” he finally says. He sounds calm. He isn’t in a rush.
Peter is frantic inside.
“Sebastian? Please?”
“Please what, baby?”
“Can I come? Can the cage come off for a little while so I can… Shouldn’t I get to come because I got collared?”
Sebastian comes back into view and Peter stares at his naked body. He reaches for him, needing him closer. There’s lube in his hand.
Oh no. Oh god.
“To celebrate we’re going to take our relationship a step further, honey. I want to start training you to only come on my cock. We can do that, honey. I know you can get there.”
Peter closes his eyes again, trying to keep the emotion in check. “Can we start tomorrow?”
“You really are riled up, aren’t you?”
The bed dips. And then Sebastian is over him and he’s sitting on Peter’s chest. Peter looks up at him, gasping at the pleasure of having his heat and weight anchoring him to the bed. To the here and now. He caresses Sebastian’s thighs, looks at his hard cock. He raises his head and breathes in the scent of his lover.
“Good boy.” Sebastian rises to his knees and then plants his hand above Peter’s head. His cock hovers over Peter’s face.
“Yes. Please,” Peter whispers.
“Do you remember when I broke into your house?”
“Vaguely.”
“Smart ass. Anyway, I wasn’t very nice about your muscular chest.”
“You mean my moobs?” he says and blushes.
“You know I was just angry. They’re beautiful.”
“I know. You come on them all the time. And bite the hell out of my nipples.”
“Fuck, I know,” he says and lowers himself so the shaft of his rock-hard cock grazes over Peter’s face. Peter tilts his head and opens his mouth, tries to lick and suck whatever he can reach. “Yeah, good boy,” Sebastian praises and rocks forward and back, cock sliding along Peter’s open lips.
“Squeeze those tits together, baby.”
“What?” he whispers.
Sebastian grins and leans back. He picks up the bottle of lube and squirts it into his hand. He slicks his cock and then swipes his hand down Peter’s chest.
“Your mouth will be open, you’ll keep those tits tight together to make me feel good, and I’ll come on your collar and face. If you’re lucky you’ll have some to swallow, too.”
He wants to cry. He’s so fucking hard. This will be agony. An up-close reminder and active participation in making Sebastian come while Peter can’t.
It’s torture.
“Hands,” Sebastian orders.
He obeys.
Heat and hardness glide across his chest, the head bumping his collar and his chin.
“Tilt your head down, baby. Open your mouth. Suck the head if it comes close enough.”
