Dolls don’t think. Dolls don’t wonder why Reid’s grip is too tight, why his heartbeat is thumping so hard against my back, or why he didn’t fuck me and used my like a cockwarmer like he usually does. Dolls just lie there, quiet and pretty, while the guy holding them falls apart.
16 Loads
I wake up confused—which, yeah, standard. My brain’s still booting up when the weight on my hips registers, followed by the familiar heat pinned against my back and a thick dick nestled right between my cheeks. Routine shit. My muscles immediately go lax, prepping for use, but then I realize Reid isn’t fucking me. He’s justholding me. Arms locked around my waist like I’m some teddy bear, his breath warm against the nape of my neck.
I wonder if we moved at all during the night.
“Morning,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin. Fuck if that doesn’t completely short-circuit my system harder than someone sliding into me at 6 AM.
I blink at the wall, and just let out a dumb, “Uh.”
“You slept like the dead.” His nose nudges my neck, inhaling slowly. “Didn’t even snore.”
“...Did anyone…?”
“Walker tried.” Reid’s arms tighten possessively. “Told him to fuck off.”
It’s not hard to picture Walker padding in at dawn, fully bricked and expecting his usual morning fuck, only to find Reid curled around me like a guard dog. Guess Walker wasn’t happy about missing out on a happy ending this time around.
Reid’s fingers trail down my stomach, dipping under the waistband of my boxers. But instead of his usual grab-and-go grip, he merely traces the lines of my hips, his thumb rubbing idle circles into the divot of my pelvis. It’s fucking weird. Nice-weird.
“You’re always… soft here. In the morning.”
I don’t know what to do with that. Dolls shouldn’t get noticed like this—not outside the context of being a warm hole to use. But Reid’s touching me like he’s cataloging the differences between my awake body and my doll one.
His fingertips skate higher, brushing my nipple, and holy fuck, it’s still sensitive from last night. My breath hitches. Reid freezes.
“Sorry,” he mutters, but he doesn’t pull away.
His palm settles over my pec instead, thumb rubbing slow arcs around the swollen bud, then it slides down, slow and absent.
“Bro,” I mutter, half into the pillow. My voice comes out sleep-rough and cracking at the edges.
Reid hums, his nose buried in the back of my neck.
“You’re—” I swallow hard as his fingers dip lower, brushing the trail of hair leading straight to my junk. And it’s not evendeliberate. It’s just lazy, half-asleep exploration. “You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?” His lips drag over my shoulder blade.
“The—” My throat clicks. “The doll thing. But I’m not…“
I’m not offline right now. Not blank-eyed and pliant, not spread open and waiting. Right now, I’m just Kit—sleep-mussed and confused.
Reid stills. His hand flexes against my stomach as if he’s debating pulling away. Then he exhales, rough, and his grip tightens.
“So?”
“So it’s weird.”
“Yeah?” His teeth graze my nape, making me shiver. “Bad?”
It’s definitely not bad. Not even close.
This, right here, is what I’ve been running through my head lately. What it’d be like with one of them not treating me like a fucktoy. Not that I don’t love getting passed around like a communal fleshlight, but this? Reid’s fingers tracing lazy patterns over my hipbone, his dick pressed against my ass without slamming inside, his breath warming the back of my neck? It’s… fuck. It’s nice.
A stupid part of my brain wonders if Reid even realizes we’re cuddling. If he knows this shit feels borderline romantic, all tangled up and breathing each other in. The rest of me doesn’t dare ask because fuck if I’m gonna ruin this by making him bolt.
“So?” Reid’s teeth graze the shell of my ear. His breath hitches when I shiver, his grip tightening around my waist like he’s afraidIam the one who will leave if he lets go. “Is it bad?”
