Page 46 of Theta

"Oh?" He's trying like hell to act calm and casual, but he can’t fool me.

I smirk. "Yeah." I lift on my toes and lean in to him, and I kiss him, hard. "I'm gonna be fucking obsessed with this big, beautiful cock of yours, Killy."

He's panting after the kiss, and my words seem to leave him stunned. "Jesus, Story. Gonna give a guy a complex."

"Your cock is perfect, Killian," I tell him, stroking his length again, slowly, from root to tip to root, and then I pulse my grip around his root again. "I've imagined what your cock would look like a million times. I've flicked my bean thinking about this cock almost every night. And yet…” Another slow stroke, and this time I pause with my fingers around his plump, round head, the pre-cum smearing on my fingers. "Nothing I imagined could have prepared me for the reality.”

I watch his face as I let my hand drift gently down his length; he's tensed, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed. He’s breathing hard, dragging in great, deep, slow breaths as if tightly controlling himself.

"Hey, you need to relax," I whisper. "You're so tense."

He shakes his head. "If I relax, I'm gonna come. And I don't want to. Not yet." He closes his eyes for a second as I twist my hand around his cock-head, rolling my palm over the tip. "I've dreamed of you touching me like this a billion goddamn times, and I want this to last longer than ten fucking seconds." His head tips back and he groans again, his hips punching forward to thrust himself helplessly into my fist. "I want to last for you. I don't want to…fuck!"

I laugh at his helpless, barked curse, rising on my tiptoes and covering his mouth with my smile. "Ssshhhh, Killy," I whisper. "Can I tell you a secret?" I pull back less than an inch from his mouth, gazing up at him as I drop to my heels.

He growls wordlessly, a quiet rumble in his chest as I caress his length slowly. "Anything. Always." His head ducks, chin to his chest, and his eyes squeeze shut, and his jaw goes hard. "Fuck, Story. The way you're touching me. Jesus. It's…fuck. It feels so good. So fucking good. Better than than literally anything I've ever felt in my life. I don't want it to stop, not ever." His eyes fly open, burning with his arousal and now with curiosity as well. "What secret?"

“I don't want you to last, Killy," I whisper. "I want you to come fast and hard."

"It's fuckin' embarrassing," he growls.

My whole being sings at the ravaging arousal written in every line of his body, lacing his voice, and burning in his eyes. "I want it, Killy," I breathe. "If you can't hold back, you know what that says to me?"

"That I'm pathetic?"

I reach up, cup the back of his head, force him to look down at me while I stroke his hot length with slow, twisting caresses; with each one Killian growls in his chest and his hips start to drive and his knees to dip. "It says that I'm doing something right," I say, fluttering soft, shallow pumps around the head of his massive cock, making him lift on his toes and clench his buttocks helplessly. "It means I'm making you feel so good you can't help yourself. And Killy, honey, that is literally the only thing in the whole world I want right now is to give you so much fucking pleasure you forget everything else.”

"Well, that's exactly what you're doing," he murmurs, settling to his heels as I slow my touch, backing him away from the edge for a moment.

"Good," I answer. "So stop holding back and give me everything you've got."

"I…" he shakes his head, jaw muscles ticking and pulsing, brow beetled with concentration. "Fucking hell, Story." His eyes fly open and find mine. "I want to taste you. I want…I need to taste your pussy."

"And Killy-baby, the second you come for me, I’ll be begging you to eat me out like there's no tomorrow."

I twist us so his back is to the door and I press up against him and lift on my toes and I kiss him, deeply and slowly, all tongue and teeth and hot breath, moaning as he responds eagerly and hungrily, his hands lifting to cup my face with delicate tenderness, tilting his head to one side and deepening the kiss until I forget my own name, forget everything but his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, his breath, his hands scraping my hair away and digging his fingertips into my scalp, his thighs hard and bunched against mine—I clutch his hard cock and stroke his thick, smooth length faster and faster as our kiss becomes an entity of itself, takes on a life of its own, endless and wild. I whimper and he groans; I gasp and he growls. He thrusts into my fist and I stroke him faster, cup his balls in my other hand and caress them, scratch his pubic hair with my fingers and slide them down his tender sac and over his taint, cupping and kneading the weight of his balls in my palm, and he groans shakily into our kiss.

"Story," he whispers. "Fuck."

“Yeah?” I answer, my voice barely a whisper. "You like that?"

"I'm gonna…" he trails off, panting, head hanging, hips bucking. "Oh god, oh god, Story—oh fucking god, that feels so fucking good. Please don't stop."

"Never, Killy. Not ever. Not until you've given me every last drop of your cum."

"Fucking hell, the shit you say."

"Told you I can be a little bossy in the bedroom."

"I fucking love it."

“You do?"

'Yeah. Didn't know I would, but I do."

My heart explodes with joy—he couldn’t know how badly I need to hear those exact words. From him, more than anything. To know that what I need is what he wants? I’d say it’s better than sex, but…

"It's like you were made for me," I say, the words emerging unbidden, truth flooding out of me.