Finally, when even I knew my cries were bordering on pained, he took pity on me. Flipping me over and arranging a pillow under my arse, he brushed my fringe from my eyes and waited until I gave him my attention.
“For what it’s worth, I promise you I don’t have any STI’s. You still okay with anal or would you rather finish another way?”
I blinked him into proper focus. “If you don’t fuck me soon, I might have to hurt you,” I growled, although I couldn’t keep from smiling, so I don’t think I was very threatening.
“All right.” He grinned, wide and toothy. “Guess that’s the consent part dealt with.” He tore open the lube packet.
I levelled him with my best sexy glare. “Don’t you fuckingdaredo anything more than coat your dick with that. I’m so needy I’m prepared to beg at this point.”
“It might hurt. I didn’t open you up that much.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know. I want it to sting. Seriously,” I protested when he looked doubtful. “You have a lovely cock but it’s no Coke can.”
“You cheeky fucker.” But he stroked the lube over his length, maintaining eye contact the whole while. “You might want to hold on.”
“You just want to pretend you’ve tied me up, you perv,” I muttered, but I flashed him a grin as I slowly raised my arms, finding the top edge of the mattress and gripping it.
His echoing grin was wickedness itself. “You got me.” He flipped my legs over his shoulders as if I were made of feathers, and fingered my eager hole one more time. “So fucking sexy,” he said, almost to himself.
Then he settled his cock against my rim, and pressed.
The burn took my breath away, but he went slow enough it wasn’t truly painful, and I hadn’t lied to him, I did like it to sting. When he bottomed out, he bestowed another devilish grin on me, withdrew almost to the tip, then slammed back in without warning. I gasped. He did it again. And again, and again, until I was seconds from coming, when he stilled, waited for me to acknowledge him, then began all over again. It was fucking torture, and I loved it.
The bottom sheet was askew and we’d lost all the pillows to the floor by the time I knew I couldn’t hold off any longer. I barely managed a stuttered, “Oh fuck!” before I shot a fountain of cum between us, slicking my chest, chin and even my hair. My orgasm seemed endless, my arse spasming around Luc’s cock, and sending him toppling into ecstasy with me.
“Holy shit, that was amazing,” Luc said against my ear. He sounded out of breath, and a tiny bit smug. I’d give him the smug, because I was fairly sure I’d be limping in the morning.
I grimaced as he withdrew. “Think I jizzed in my hair.”
He snorted, and peered at my head. “Yup. Gissa minute and I’ll wet a towel for you.” He resisted when I hooked him down for a kiss and tried to talk with his lips closed. “You don’t mind where I’ve been?”
“I want to taste myself.”
He groaned. “You’ve emptied my balls, but that’s almost enough to get me going again. Filthy, sexy beast.” He tangled his tongue with mine, kissing me like I was some precious thing instead of a hook-up. My brain a blessedly blank sponge, I passed out in his embrace, the late hour on top of the night’s excitement and the orgasms finally too much for me.
5
LUC
Charley was passed out,sprawled over the bed like a soft toy that had lost its stuffing, totally boneless. He’d taken everything I could give, and more, and was the answer to all my dirty fantasies rolled into one neat sexy package. I wasn’t nearly as kinky as he probably thought, but I did love being in control, and bringing my lovers to the crest of insanity with need before I allowed them to orgasm was what I loved best. I guess that was kinky enough.
I’d cleaned him up, and covered him with the duvet, then took another shower, confident I wouldn’t disturb him. I opened one of the water bottles I’d had delivered with our food, and replenished the fluids I’d lost in our marathon session. Now, I was beyond bone tired, but unable to switch off.
Something about him didn’t add up, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I’d assumed he was human — he certainly smelled like one, or not like anything else I could confidently pinpoint — but he had a few tells that made me doubt my initial assessment. His aversion to light was the obvious one, but I also had the feeling he’d been seriously holding back how strong he was. And for a stringy guy, that piqued my curiosity. At first glance he looked anaemic too, his pallor was startling, but he had a good appetite, and, I allowed myself a brief chuckle, we shared a taste for meat — in all its forms. Perhaps he was a health nut and really didn’t like junk food. I was no slouch myself, but my genetics went a long way to keeping me in shape.
I dimmed the backlight on my phone and scrolled half a dozen news sites, checking for anything about the murder, or the chase I’d got myself entangled in. There was nothing, but somehow I hadn’t expected there to be. The fact Charley wasn’t in police custody told me this killing was being kept on the down low. Which meant, what exactly? A turf war between gangs? Drugs? Maybe even a Traveller connection, as I knew they weren’t keen on police involvement in their internal disputes.
I punched the pillow and tried to get comfortable enough to doze off. A murder was hardly a dispute though. So I reckoned drugs or a turf war seemed more likely. I ran a search on Charley too, but there wasn’t much. A few photos on social media that might be him, blurry images from local nightclub party nights, but if he had his own accounts they weren’t in his real name.
In the end I opened my e-reader app and tried to lose myself in the latest instalment of the detective serial I’d been bingeing.
* * *
It must have worked.I bolted upright with a start as my alarm blared in my ear. Fumbling around to silence it, I blinked at the change in the weather since the previous night. Weak golden sunshine warmed every corner of the room, instantly lifting my mood. I wasn’t sure if we’d continue heading west, but I’d be a lot happier not having to drive through constant fog regardless of which direction we took.
I pissed and washed quickly, then stuck the kettle on to boil. Charley was still face down, sprawled in the same position as he’d been when he passed out several hours before: damn, I had some fine bedroom skills. I mentally congratulated myself as I put the last teabag into one mug. “Hey, sleepyhead, do you want a decaf coffee? That’s all that’s left, I’m afraid.”
He didn’t stir. I dressed, taking pleasure in my clean clothing straight from the radiator, toasty warm. I looked outside, and saw the car park was nearly empty. Evidently most folk that stayed here weren’t of the night owl variety. I turned to the bed and contemplated my sleeping sidekick. Huh, he wasreallyout for the count. I couldn’t even see his chest rise and fall.
