Page 51 of Yours on the Canvas

“You keep calling me Sol. I love it, but I’ve always wondered? What does it mean to you?”

Jack sits, forcing me back. “My mother. She was from Iceland. She taught me about the old Norse myths. It means Sun. Sol was a goddess, rode a chariot across the sky; she’s the shield of the sky.” He looks away, removing his eyes from me. I want them back, so I take his chin and lift his head, his eyes meeting mine again.

Smiling softly, I lean in. “That’s better.” I kiss him gently, my tongue sliding into his mouth to taste him, before I pull back. “I love it.”

He rises up to meet me, my lips trailing along his cheek to his ear, nipping at the lobe. His voice vibrates right against my skin, sending goosebumps down my spine. “I want you to fuck me, Silas. Now.”

He drops back onto the bed, and I hop off, making short work of our pants, kicking them into the dark. Grabbing the lube from the bedside drawer, I climb back over him, straddling his hips.

My eyes lock on his as I pop the cap. I watch his throat swallow deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and a rush of heat rips through my spine; sharp, electric, and hot.

My fingers wrap around his dick, giving it a slow, teasing pull. Jack throws his head back. I slide down his body until my lips hover over the tip of his dick. His eyes are shut, head swaying, mouth open and swollen with spit. His chest heaves, and when I nip at his inner thigh, a low moan fills the room. I catch the other thigh between my teeth, feeling the muscle jump beneath my lips.

“So fucking hot, baby. So perfect for me.”

I kiss each leg, bypassing this cock bouncing against his abs. Reaching up, the tip of my tongue laps through the pool of pre-cum gathered on his stomach, his taste flooding my mouth.

“God, you taste like heaven, dove.”

He whimpers, his hips thrusting up as I sink lower, wrapping my mouth around the head of his dick. My arm lies heavy across his stomach, my other hand anchoring his hip as I take him deep into my throat. Spit mixes with pre-cum, and I glide back up, flicking my tongue across his slit before taking him into my mouth again.

His cock hits the back of my throat. I slide my hand around his ass cheek, pressing a finger to his tight rim. My sounds grow rough as I suck hard, milking him with each pull.

I circle his entrance with one finger, then slide a second alongside it. I pull back from his tip, growling, “You’re going to take two, baby,” as I push both fingers past the first ring of muscle.

He sucks in a sharp breath, then the moan he drags out is long, thick with pleasure and a ghost of pain.

“Such a good boy, taking my fingers. Your pussy is doing so fucking well, Jack. So fucking well.”

I pull my fingers out to the tips and slide them right back in, scissoring them as I hunt for his button, his spot. Finding the sensitive bundle of nerves, I stroke it with my middle finger while my lips swallow his length again. The second my mouth touches him, Jack’s back arches, a ragged scream rattling the walls.

I push him firmly back onto the bed, my arm draped across his hips holding him in place. “Mmm, my good little boy. So fucking hot.” My voice drops into a gravelly purr. His raw reaction nearly makes me come right there. “Fuck, Jack. Scream for me, baby. Scream for…”

His cry breaks, cracked and high. His body shakes so hard I struggle to keep my hand planted on his hip. I stroke his spot again, and again.

My lips brush his cock, and I nip it lightly, “Doing so well, dove. So fucking well. I want to drag you onto my cock, slam into you until you’re screaming my name beneath me. Fill you.”

I bite into his thigh while slipping in a third finger, followed instantly by a fourth, biting his other leg as I stretch him wide, knowing that if I pushed just a little further, my hand would be inside him. Fuck, what a thought.

I glance up. Jack is floating in that fragile, shattered space only I get to send him to. He is mine to play with, mine to break and rebuild.

But never to hurt.

I sit up, keeping my four fingers moving inside him. “Jack.”

His eyes remain shut, lost in the heavy haze of his own mind. His body has taken over, but I need him anchored before I push him over the edge.

“Jack.”

His eyelids flutter open. When I flex my fingers against his spot, his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open, panting fast as I stroke his length.

“Dove,” I whisper. He looks at me then. I soften my expression. “Good boy. You know what I’m going to do Jack?”

He shakes his head, watching me through a haze of heat.

“I going to stretch this pussy, so you can take my fingers and my cock like the good little boy you are.”

He whines at my words, entirely undone by my hands.