“Seems like you fit just fine,” Emerson murmured, his smile just on this side of smug. It should’ve infuriated Dash, but he was an idiot. He found it charming.
“Can you reach the lube for me?”
“Maybe.” Dash looked over Emerson’s shoulder to locate it. He let go with one arm and leaned closer. Once he’d tugged it nearer, he lifted the bottle to show Emerson.
“Pour some in my hand,” Emerson said, lifting the arm hooked under Dash’s legs and offering an uplifted palm.
Dash struggled to get the cap open with only one free hand. He had to lift the tube beside Emerson’s neck and use his otherhand, too. “This would’ve been easier if you’d let me sit beside you instead.”
“You belong right here,” Emerson said.
Once Dash had poured a handful of lube, he added, “Now, hold on tight.”
“Why?” Dash asked seconds before it became obvious.
Emerson’s lubed hand spread his cheeks wide, coating him between. A fingertip pressed against his asshole but didn’t enter. It teased him, running along the puckered flesh on the outside. Dash stiffened, tossing the lube so he could hold on properly. As Emerson cradled him in his lap, he leisurely coated Dash’s ass, all while watching him intently with every tender stroke.
Dash stifled a moan… and another. Those fingers were wicked, rolling around the rim without slipping inside. It was senseless torment, and a plea rose on his lips. A plea he held back, scared to appear too eager—or too inexperienced.
The second a single finger slid just inside, he whimpered, the sound foreign to his own ears. He coughed, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide the next silly sound that bubbled up to his lips. It was difficult to hold back, though. Emerson’s hands were massive and his fingers thick. One stretched him wider than one of his own, and he gasped as it passed the thick band of muscle.
Emerson eyed him, his hand stilling. “Are you okay?”
Dash nodded.“Yeah.”
Emerson slid a little deeper before drawing all the way out. He ran his fingertip along the rim and glided in again, easier than the first time. He pressed his mouth against Emerson’s shoulder to quiet the moan that tore up his throat.
“Don’t do that,” Emerson whispered against his ear. “I want to hear when something feels good.”
Dash lifted his head, pressing his forehead against the side of Emerson’s head as he focused on the stretch and pull of his bodyaround that finger. In between pants and gasps, he whispered, “It feels good.”
Emerson’s warm breath washed over his face, the scent of his cum still lingering on it. His lips were too tempting not to taste again. A kiss would also give Dash cover. That close, there was no hiding the pleasure he derived from the slow, intimate massage. No matter how much he wanted to rein in his reactions to that probing finger, it was becoming next to impossible. Dash leaned closer and captured Emerson’s lips, kissing him languidly as his finger slipped deeper inside.
A few strokes later and Dash melted against Emerson, eager for more. Emerson pulled out again before returning withtwothick fingers. Dash winced, pulling up and away from Emerson’s hand.
“Too much?” Emerson asked, withdrawing his fingers completely.
“No,” Dash said in a rush. He didn’t want Emerson to stop. “Just warn me next time you add another one of your big, sausage fingers.”
Emerson chuckled, the sound vibrating through Dash.
“Will do,”Emerson whispered.
After trailing his two fingertips around the rim again, Emerson slid only one finger in the next time.
“Both,”Dash demanded. “I want them both.”
Emerson pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and pulled out. The next slow surge was two fingers wide. Dash’s back bowed from the pressure, the barest hint of pain stinging. The discomfort rode the edge of pleasure and only lasted a few seconds. Before Emerson could pull away again, he reached back with one hand and gripped Emerson’s wrist. He forced the alpha’s hand deeper and rolled his hips, riding the fingers like the dildos he’d used.
Dash felt something shift within him, his body opening to Emerson’s touch. When a third finger was later added after a whispered, wanton warning, he barely felt any pain. Dash captured Emerson’s lips again and rocked his hips up and down, desperate to build on the growing tension tightening his body and pushing him towards the abyss.
He wanted to jerk his leaking cock so fucking bad—but feared letting go of Emerson’s neck for too long and ending up on the floor.
Emerson rose to his feet, lifting Dash as if he were no burden. His fingers were still embedded inside Dash, too.
Dash tore his lips from the alpha, clinging tight.“Emerson…”
“I’ve got you,” Emerson said, his voice soft. He spun and lowered them both to the bed and only then slid his fingers out.
