Nicki’s answering smile is one Andrew has never seen, something full of such pride and pleasure, it robs Andrew of the last breath in his lungs. Nicholas Whitmore is a gorgeous man, and somehow he isAndrew’s.
“Yes, princess?”
“I’m ready to feel good.”
Nicki’s bitten offfuckis the last thing he says before kissing his way across Andrew’s belly and down his hips, curling his fingers into Andrew’s waistband. He turns his gaze on Andrew, watching his face as he pulls them down. Though he’s seen Andrew naked in the shower, he was sick then, and this feels different because it is different.
“Fucking perfect,” Nicki says in a tone that bears no argument.
For once in his life, Andrew doesn’t want to argue. He doesn’t want to minimize himself or take up less space. He wants to be the center of someone’s world—the center ofNicki’sworld.
His boxers are removed, then Nicki’s, but he makes no immediate move to touch him, seemingly content to take Andrew in. It’s nice but not enough. Andrew doesn’t even know what he wants, only knows he needs to be touched, to be reminded viscerally how much Nicki wants him.
Every touch is a balm to his tired, weary soul. Nicki’s kisses, his caresses, can’t white out the insecurity and pain of the past, but goddamn do they come close.
It’s clear Nicki’s experienced, taking Andrew apart with gentle caresses and a mouth on his dick that brings him to such high planes of pleasure, he hardly recognizes the sounds he’s making. With every touch Andrew loses more of himself, fisting one hand in the longest bit of Nicholas’s hair on top, while theother hand fondles his buzzed undercut. The best of both worlds—something to stim on and something to pull.
When Nicki pops off Andrew’s cock, it’s all he can do not to sob. He didn’t even know it could feel so good to have someone blow him, and while he’s sure that some of it is Nicki’s obvious dick expertise, it’s also just because it’s Nicki. He likes having this big, strong man between his legs, worshiping him.
“Please,” Andrew whimpers.
“Princesses don’t beg,” Nicki tells him, voice rough from having Andrew’s cock shoved down it.
“No?”
“No,” Nicki smirks, moving Andrew’s legs over his shoulders so that he’s almost bent in half, completely exposed as Nicki buries his face in Andrew’s ass.
“I didn’t shower,” Andrew squeaks.
“Mine,” Nicki growls, the vibrations making goosebumps spread across Andrew’s arms and legs.
If the roles were reversed, Andrew would not be at all okay with this, but he tries to let go, to focus on Nicki’s voracious enthusiasm and do exactly what Nicki told him to do—let go and enjoy it, his vision half-blurring as Nicki tongue fucks him like a beast. This isn’t his gentle Nicki, this is hockey player Nicki—the man who devours and dominates. He’s not rough, but he’s intense, fingers digging into Andrew’s thighs as his tongue delves into places no one else’s has ever dared.
Andrew tried this once. And by tried he means he got one lick on a partner’s ass after Charlie insisted rimming was akin to visiting heaven. The only white Andrew saw was the inside of a toilet bowl when he nearly vomited. The smells and textures and closeness were too fucking much. That night had ended in a lot of embarrassment and Andrew being accused of being a boring tease when he stopped everything to brush his teeth and regulate. After that, he never tried rimming anyone else everagain, and he sure as hell never let anyone else do it to him, knowing that he would never return the favor.
Nicki doesn’t seem to care that Andrew isn’t interested in rimming him now or ever, or that Andrew hasn’t showered since this morning. Judging by the sounds he’s making, he might as well be having a feast, which does something to Andrew’s delicate ego.
Turns out, it’s damn near impossible to be insecure or shy when there’s a six foot six tattooed hockey god feasting on your ass. Just when Andrew is sure it can’t feel better, Nicki stops. Andrew doesn’t ask why because he hasn’t taken his eyes off Nicki once, not even when his neck ached from the strain of watching
“Back or hands and knees?” Nicki asks, not even bothering to wipe the drool from his chin. He wears the mess he made of himself eating Andrew’s ass with as much confidence as he wears a designer suit, and fuck isn’t that one of the most attractive things Andrew has ever seen.
“Like this,” Andrew answers. “I want to see you.”
“You wanna watch me fuck you, princess?”
“Yes.” Andrew stretches out his legs, knowing what’s coming but not entirely prepared. Luckily for him, Nicki’s moves gentle once his fingers are lubed up, words of praise and kisses peppered across his thighs as Nicki works him open. Given the tongue fucking, it should be easier but Andrew is nervous, his body finding a world of difference in Nicki’s tongue and his thick fingers. Fingers that he is very aware are both giant and not at all big compared to Nicki’s cock.
“Relax, princess. I’m going to take care of you.” Nicki’s finger presses in. The physical resistance is negligible, but the emotional impact is staggering. The sensation of something inside his body is strange, and Andrew tries to take a moment to decide if he likes it. He’s only been on the receiving end once,and that was so long ago he’s not even sure if his memories of it were bad because of the penetration, or because he was forcing himself to partake in some weird self-inflicted desire to keep up with Charlie in college. He’d been so terrified of being left behind that he dated, tried sex, and found both woefully lacking in gratification or able to hold his interest.
Even now, if he tries to picture anyone else doing this to him, anyone but Nicki between his thighs, he knows he wouldn’t like it. The sex isn’t what Andrew wants, it’s more of Nicki he longs for.
“Feels weird,” Andrew admits.
In the past, he kept those thoughts to himself but Nicki is different. It’s safe to tell these things to Nicki. The tip of a second finger pauses at his entrance as Nicki stills, resting his cheek against Andrew’s inner thigh.
“New weird or bad weird?”
“I don’t know,” Andrew admits, slightly agitated by being unable to tell. He doesn’t like not knowing things. It feels wrong in his brain, and his spiraling can happen very quickly.
