“Have you ever been rimmed?” Xander asks as he arranges himself above me. It takes me a moment to catch on to his question, because my focus is captured by his hands slowly peeling off his underwear.
“Wha–?” I question as I push up onto my elbows.
“Rimmed,” Xander repeats. He shimmies out of his boxers now, and my eyes trace the length of his hard dick, lingering on the glistening tip. I want to lean in and lick the precum off to savor the salty taste.
Xander must have mistaken my distraction for cluelessness, because he bends forward to kiss the inside of my knee before explaining his plans to me.
“It means I would enter you with my tongue, taste you.”
“I know what rimming means!” I protest, my cheeks heating up. I’m not embarrassed about his words, but about how my dick twitches at the mental images his words create for me. “But no, I...haven’t done that before.”
“Would you let me do it to you?” Xander asks in between the small kisses he’s peppering all over the inside of my knee, then up my thigh.
I mull his words over in my head, chewing on my tongue. The fantasy is hot, but something in me recoils.
It feels so intimate. Too intimate. Like if I allow this now, he will crack me open completely and irreparably. And how will I go on then, with my bare emotions leaking all over the place, when he will play for the Rebels and Nate will be in Utica.
“I haven’t...I mean I can’t…” I stammer as I try to come up with an explanation that won’t give away my true reasoning. Taking a deep breath, I reach for him with my hand.
“Next time.”
There’s a sad touch to Xander’s smile as he gives me a nod. Like he’s caught me in a lie but chose to let me get away with it.
“Next time,” he echoes, then uncaps the small bottle of lube. The clicking sound creates goosebumps all over my body, and I watch with hooded eyes as he presses a small amount into the palm of his hand. He has elegant fingers. Long and slender, like he was born to play the piano or perform neurosurgery. I noticed it the first time when he touched my bad knee after the fall.
“Your fingers–” I’m about to speak my mind when he reaches for my ass, and I fall silent in anticipation.
“You’re tense.”
“I’m not tense!”
Xander chuckles and swats my ass before parting my cheeks so his slick finger can slip in between. Of course I’m tense—I feel vulnerable. Open. Bare.
“We can always stop,” Xander murmurs, just when I think I might have overestimated my own courage. His index is circling my entry now, generously distributing the lube there.
I swallow thickly as I look up at him, my eyes seeking his. The blue of his irises is so intense, it causes my breath to hitch.
“No,” I tell him. Even with all the hesitation, I want this. I want this now, because it might very well be our last chance. And I’d rather have this here and now than not have it at all.
His eyes roam over me, searching my face for any sign of doubt. “Tell me if you need me to stop, Nicko. I mean it. I don’t want you to think back on...this with regret.”
“I’ll tell you,” I promise, but my mind is stuck on the small pause in his sentence, on the way he didn’t mean this but us.Him.
He gives me an extra second, and then his index breaches my entrance, slowly and carefully.
I lose all sense of time and place over the next minutes, writhing under Xander’s touch as he stretches me out so patiently, unwilling to give in to my urging and pleading to please hurry up.
By the time he has four fingers inside of me, I feel close to losing my mind with frustration and want and pure, raw need. My dick is leaking a small stream of precum onto my stomach, and every time he presses up against my prostate, I think that this is it, I’ll come before we even get started.
“Alexander fucking Hart!” I cry out when he does it again. I have one arm thrown over my eyes and yet I see stars behind my lids, toes curling on the starched sheets.
There’s a rough chuckle from above me, and then he pulls his hand back. I instantly regret my complaints. There’s thissudden feeling of emptiness again I experienced the first time he fingered me. I instinctively clench my butt cheeks, but the loss goes deeper than just that, originating from somewhere inside me.
“Hush,” he hums, since my emotions must be laid out openly on my face. He’s already ripping open the condom package. The crinkling of the foil seems unbearably loud somehow, like all my senses are heightened. My eyes are glued to his fully erect dick as he rolls the condom over it. For a fraction of a second, I wonder what it would feel like without the barrier between us, then chase the idea away with a shake of my head.
I’m about to roll onto my stomach when he stops me with both hands on my hips.
“What are you doing?”
