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He just doesn’twantto want me.
I squash down the spike of insecurity and hurt. I will not let anything get in the way of this moment. I shift closer, shuffling on my knees until they are pressed against his thigh and he just… watches. When I am as close as I can be without straddling him, his eyes find mine again, and the feral greed in them steals the last of my erratic breath.
“Please.” The whispered plea barely passes my lips before an anguished growl tears from Roan, and his free hand snaps out to wrap around the back of my neck, hauling me to him.
With little choice and zero complaints, I throw myself into the embrace, swinging my leg over those solid thighs. His hand releases mine, moving to instead tangle themselves in my hair, tugging tightly. It stings, and I wince but don’t pull out of the hold or drop his stare. Below me, his chest heaves, the last of his control fraying and withered until it breaks, and he crushes me to him, his mouth on mine, and I am drowning in him.
His beard is soft against my face, contrasting against the rough pull of my hair and the heat of his mouth as he ravishes me. I am utterly helpless to do anything but gleefully accept the onslaught.
My hands dance over his chest, hungry for every inch of him they can reach. I climb higher in his lap, grasping at his shoulders to drag my hips up his thighs, to pull him down closer to me, until my ass settles on his lap.
I have to stretch to meet him halfway but when his tongue swoops inside my mouth—fierce, claiming, dominating; the strain is lost in the pleasure. Underneath me, I can feel the hot, hard length of his erection straining. I give into the impulse togrind myself down, and I’m rewarded with a warning growl from Roan. I feel powerful, wanton, when I do it again, and he pulls at my hair, the sharp tug radiating molten lust down my spine to my balls.
Even in the haze of lust currently clouding my brain, the irony doesn’t escape me that despite his roughness and the intensity of the moment, I feel safe. Safe enough to keep provoking him especially.
My hips begin to roll, my ass dancing over his straining cock, teasing us both. I am achingly hard in my jeans, the zipper sweet torture against me, but I don’t want to spook him into ending this between us before I sate the hunger I have for him.
My dumb horny mind is completely convinced that we can do this right now and have it affect nothing, mean nothing after this moment. I don’t care that I’m lying to myself, instead I focus on dragging my hands up his neck, past his beard, to tightly grasp his horns, using them to better angle his head.
A vicious snarl erupts from him, tearing his lips from mine and for a heartbeat I don’t know if I should be terrified or turned on. But with quick movements that belie his size, he flips me off his lap and onto my back on the rough, unfinished floorboards.
It doesn’t hurt though, because even with the feral gleam in his eye taking over, he protects me, cushioning my head and my back before settling his weight on top of me. The pressure is divine, pulling me back into my body, awareness overriding my senses, driving me to the edge of sanity.
My legs wrap around his hips and I arch up into him, needing more. Needing everything. Roan hovers over me, his breath coming in short, hard pants from his wet kiss-stung lips. I am desperate to taste them again.
Roan is definitely getting in his head again, the forceful change in our position obviously startling him back to some level of sanity. But I’m not going to let him overthink himself out of this.My hands are currently kneading his shoulders, but touching his horns seemed to do something wild for him before, so maybe it’ll work again.
Daring him with a wink, I reach up to the very tip of his right horn. It’s smooth and hard under my hand, with bumpy rings circling the curved length. I slowly stroke until I reach the base. A deep shudder racks through Roan’s body when I grasp the wide juncture where the horn meets his scalp. I twist my hand there, then stroke my hand back up.
I continue to jerk his horn like a dick and I don’t think Roan realises he’s begun to move, his hips undulating against me. A snorty huff fans over my skin as Roan leans heavily into my touch, eyes closed in apparent bliss. Who knew horns were a hot spot? I sure as fuck didn’t, but I’m going to take full advantage.
My left hand encloses on the other horn, but before I can even tease him further, Roan’s hips punch into mine with enough intensity to slide me along the floor. A cry rips from my throat as liquid fire fans through me.
Playtime is apparently over, judging by the way Roan drops his body, rolling slightly to the side so as not to crush me, his mouth reclaiming mine, hard and insistent, swallowing the breathy whimpers I am helpless against. The feeling of him rutting against me, on top of me, surrounding me, is glorious, more than anything I have ever felt before, but still I want to demand more. I am greedy for him.
I grope my way down his body, rucking up his tee shirt until I can finally get my hands on his fevered skin, digging my fingers into his back, nails scraping at the skin. The animalistic sounds coming from him are dizzying, his hips never stopping their onslaught.
My cock is leaking in my jeans, throbbing, in need of release, relief. Roan’s hand on my hip, fingers teasing over the sensitivenerves there in the dip of my hip bone, trailing under the band of my jeans, seals the deal for me.
Unable to take any more, my hands are shaking as they reach for the button on his shorts, hesitant in case he calls a halt to this thing between us. But he doesn’t; instead his groan drowns out the sound of the zipper in the otherwise empty house, his forehead dropping to the floor above my head.
I stretch to bite high on his chest through his shirt, the only part I can reach without him bending to accommodate my tiny size as I liberate his cock from the straining confines of his boxers.
And what a magnificent cock it is. Fat and heavy in my hand, impossibly thick and… are those ridges threading over his dick? I trace my hand over the lines wrapping around the girth and length of his cock to the flared bulbous head. Swiping up the pre-cum leaking there, I continue my exploration. I am desperate for a peek, but I’m pinned and can’t see past Roan’s hulking mass above me.
Roan groans again, swearing and muttering incoherently under his breath as he pumps his dick into my hand.
I manage to wriggle around enough to have a peek and whimper when I see the ridges are indeed raised red veins roping themselves around his cock. I wonder what they would feel like inside of me? I squirm again, my dick sobbing, neglected in my jeans.
He shifts his angle again, bending awkwardly, but he makes it work and his mouth is back on mine, devouring me like a starving man. Then finally,finallyhis hand finds its way to my cock, straining against my pants. He unbuttons my jeans with unsteady fingers, fumbling over the zip.
Freedom, combined with the brushes of his fingers, almost has me coming without warning. Thankfully, I manage to pull myself off the ledge, shimmying out of the jeans as best I can. And thenRoan’s hand is touching me, his fingers grasping me firmly, and I cry out, loud enough to startle him.
“You-” I cut him off with another fevered kiss, using the hand not currently jerking his cock to cup his jaw and tug his beard. He hisses again and bites my lip. The sting filters through my veins, and I love it.
“Together.” How I manage to summon the brain power to utter the words while Roan uses those magic lips to kiss and bite and suck at my neck, I’ll never know, but I do.
And he listens—thank the Gods—he listens, because he moves again, lining up our dicks, and I manage to see them, together, a sight burned into my memory for all time.
