He squirmed in my grip and pawed at the front of his jock. I pushed his legs farther forward until I was close enough to capture his mouth in a kiss. He was so soft and pliant under me, and I took my time raiding his mouth.
Harley tasted delicious as I sucked on his tongue until he was panting and gasping again. When I released his reddened lips, I backed off and began to power fuck him so that the bed jolted. He wrapped his paws around my arm and sank his sharp white teeth into the flesh of my shoulder. The pain was practically a sparkler in my mind, and I snapped my eyes shut before I forced them open again.
“Forgot kitties could be rough,” I gasped on a laugh, and that earned me another bite that was more play, but still stung. Leaning in, I moved his legs over my shoulders and used one hand to wrap around his throat in place of a collar to tug on. His teeth were really fucking sharp and I didn’t want him biting again. I slid my other hand into the jock to squeeze his sticky, excited cock.
He roared, a lion instead of a little house cat, as I teased his cockhead with my fingers, spreading around the precum I found there. He tried to turn and nip at me again, but I pressed his head down firmly on the mattress. The heat and pleasure twisted inside me and rushed toward an overwhelming end, coiling swiftly in my groin and lower stomach, and even sending tingles racing down the insides of my thighs. I leaned in closer, forcing Harley to curl his lower back, and fucked as fast and hard as I could while I gave his cock a real stroke.
“Come on, Harley kitten. Let me take care of you. Let me have it. I want you to come for me, kitten.”
He stiffened underneath me, and the look that came over his face was fucking inspiring. At first he seemed pained—he gasped in a deep breath and held it, trying to suck in more and more air—and then he shook and his ass clenched on me. He didn’t make a single sound, only slit his eyes open and stared at me like I was God.
My belly tightened with pleasure, and then it happened; a rush of hot tingles exploded out through my body, and my release was a wild adrenaline rush that had me pumping into him as deeply as I could. Wanted to fill him up, breed him like the needy kitty he was, but instead I unloaded into the condom. Far sooner than I ever would have wanted, I pulled out so I could get out of him without spilling my cum everywhere.
I’d never been so fucking disappointed not to dump my load in someone, as I worked the condom off. He lay on the bed, completely fucking wrecked, legs spread, his paws over his heart, eyes closed.
“You’re a gift, Harley. Magical. Holy fuck.”
He laughed then, a low, deep, raspy sound, and I felt bad. Had I hurt him by squeezing his neck too hard? Or had he screamed that much while I was battering his asshole with my cock? He frowned and pawed at the jock that was all askew after what I’d done. I unhooked the buckles from it and slid the cum-soaked cloth down his long, curved legs. With the condom wrapped inside, I blindly tossed the mess toward my dirty-clothes basket.
Cursing to myself, I took a fast trip downstairs for the keys to the paws, and when I came back, he was lying in the exact same spot I’d left him. One at a time, I found the lock on the cuff that lined each paw and unlatched it. He hissed at me as I freed him, but I hushed him and stripped the paws off.
“I know, I know. You can wear them later, the rest of the weekend if you want, but we have to eat breakfast, and I need Harley, my… my human boyfriend to go to the game.” I stared at him and his chest stuttered, and then he gave me the smallest nod. I let him keep his stockings, and that seemed to be a good move because he curled up in a ball on the bed. I snuggled up behind him and wrapped my body around his. He closed his eyes, smiling, and stroked the fake fur on his legs.
“Fucking you’s a good workout. Should add it—” A yawn that almost hurt had me pausing. “—to my routine.”
We cuddled for a while, and he let me stroke my hand down his chest, though he still growled whenever I touched his belly, so I stayed away from it. I jolted when a loud bang from downstairs—my sleepy brain took a second to inform me it was the front door smacking the wall—had me sitting upright.
“Brad?” It was Nicky again. “You in here?”
“Yes,” I yelled back. “Don’t you ever knock?” Harley didn’t budge. I kissed his nose and he opened an eye in my direction. “You stay here. Relax.” He closed his eye again and I chuckled. Apparently he was one of those guys who was sleepy after they blew a load.
I grabbed my shorts and tugged them on, then dragged a plain white T-shirt out of my dresser and pulled it over my head as I went downstairs to meet Nicky. I was sort of surprised when I hit the bottom step. Madden stood there too, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was compact, the top of his head barely hit my shoulder, and cute as hell in running shorts and a tank. Soon as he saw me, his face scrunched, which was probably not a good sign. I held out a hand to Madden and snagged Nicky in a half hug that he returned easily, all while Madden shook with me.
“You don’t look happy,” I said in their general directions.
Madden shrugged. “Who doesn’t like getting dragged out of bed on a Saturday morning?” Sarcasm poured from him, but his smile was cheerful enough.
“We need your help.” Nicky didn’t let go of me, only gave my middle a harder squeeze. “Kwan’s not okay. I don’t know what to do. I know you said you couldn’t—”
“I told him I’m fine with it.” Harley’s dry tone carried down the stairs toward our group, and he padded nearly silently the rest of the way to join us. He was in a pair of my workout shorts with a drawstring, and another one of my T-shirts hung loose and was far too big on him. In my opinion he was adorable, but he plucked at the hem of the shirt as he eyed me.
“Then let’s go!” Nicky said, knocking me off balance as he went. I didn’t move, and he snapped back to my side with a glare.
Madden turned, and I groaned to myself as he curiously looked through the doorway into the den. “When did you get a cat?”
Harley sniffed and glanced at his fingernails.
“Oh, he’s new.”
I fully expected the cuff I received on the back of the head, but Nicky gasped, and Madden, who must have put two and two together to get twenty-seven, considering the Enrique debacle, held his hand up to his mouth and fought back a snicker. Unsuccessfully.
We left for New Gothenburg in a convoy of cars, Harley with me, Madden and Nicky each in their own vehicles, and I was surprised at the neighborhood we arrived in. It was certainly spiffier than what I’d been expecting. The houses were large 1990s specials, back when families of four were building like they were actually fifteen people, with lots of white siding and inground pools. We stopped in front of a big house with a decently long, red cobblestone driveway, and walked behind Nicky up to the front door.
Apparently Nicky wasn’t a fan of knocking anywhere, not just at my house, because he shoved the door open and went inside. Madden and I looked at each other, but before we could follow after Nicky, a small old man hobbled around the side of the house. He wore brown pants and a brown work shirt, and his hair was white and combed to the side. There was an alarming amount of bushy hair growing out of his left nostril, and his frown was the panting kind because he didn’t seem quite like he could catch his breath.
“Hey, you kids,” he called in a gruff voice colored deeply with an old-world Italian accent. He huffed and puffed himself closer to us. “Hey, you tell me what’s going on here. I’m owed rent. Come on. You—” He pointed at Madden, who bounced down the steps to stop beside him. “—tell me what’s going on, kid, okay?”
“The rent? How much is it?” Madden asked conversationally and leaned closer to nod his head at the man. He broke out with a rush of words that I realized after a few seconds were Italian, and the old man laughed in delight.
