“With you? Always…” I mumble against his lips.
The air in the room is already hot as we continue to kiss. Every single touch feels like electricity running through my body. Tommy’s fingers slide into the waistband of my pants and rub along the skin there.
My cock throbs needily, and I grunt as I press myself against him.
This isn’t like the other times we’ve had sex; it doesn’t feel like either of us are truly in charge or dominant. It feels like something else entirely. Something new. Something that makes me shiver with anticipation as I suck on his tongue.
Heat floods my thighs and dick as Tommy starts to undo my pants.
“Are you sure?” I ask him.
“I need you,” he growls.
That’s all I need to hear. It’s like sparks are flying all around us as I squirm out of my pants and boxers and his hands lavish me with touches from my hips to the tip of my hard length.
I work eagerly to take his boxers off, being careful of his leg and slowly climb back into his lap.
Tommy turns himself as best he can until he can lay down on his back on the couch and I climb on top of him.
I straddle him and place my hands on his chest, just looking down at him.
He’s beaten and bruised…but he’s alive. He’s here and he’s alive.
I lean down and begin to kiss along his wounds. On his cheeks, his jawline, his neck…
Tommy gasps softly and rocks himself up against me. I can feel his hard length slide against mine. Precum dripping from both of our tips.
“God… I can’t believe you’re here,” I whisper as I press my lips to his once, then twice. “You’re alive. You’realive. I was so scared.”
“I’m here, Alek,” Tommy coos and slides his hands along my bare ass. His fingers start to spread my cheeks.
I kiss his jawline and leave a trail of kisses down his neck as his fingers prod at my hole and start to push inside slowly, testing, teasing.
“Fuck, I need you,” I groan.
I can tell he’s weaker than usual, due to the blood loss and injuries, but it doesn’t seem to stop him from grinding his dick up against me and plunging his fingers inside of me.
I rock back on his fingers and let him stretch me open with them.
His mouth finds mine and he kisses me deeply. Tommy slides his tongue against mine, and we kiss in such a messy fashion that saliva drips down both of our chins.
It seems like an hour goes by while he works me with his fingers and we kiss. It’s slow, unhurried, and he rubs at my prostate inside of me like it’s some precious thing.
Every kiss is wet and warm. Every grind of our hips together sends precum dripping down my shaft and smearing onto his hip and thighs.
He grunts and groans, and whether it’s in pleasure or pain I’m not sure.
“I felt aroused, while they were torturing me,” Tommy suddenly whispers against my mouth. “How fucked up does that make me?”
I shiver hard and dig my fingers into his shoulders. “You can’t help what your body likes,” I insist. “But I’ll be fucked up with you.”
I turn my head and lick several of his wounds on his face and then kiss them.
“I like the taste of your blood,” I admit. “But I don’t like when I’m not the one bleeding you.”
“Mmm, me neither,” he grumbles and pulls his fingers from my ass.
I gasp softly and feel a whine building in my throat at the emptiness I feel.
