by Cowboy Rider
A cock teased against my entrance. I was grateful that I opted to sleep without underwear tonight.
“Are you ready for me, dear one?” the man behind me murmured in my ear. He was large and warm and wrapped securely around me.
I writhed against him, seeking more friction with his cock against my slick hole. “Please,” I gasped, still mostly asleep.
“Please what?” the voice rumbled with amused patience.
“Please fuck me,” I whispered.
“Please fuck me … ?” he prompted gently.
Right, shit, his title, what did I call him? My brain tried to sort through memories for it but found something else instead.
I slept alone.
I squeaked as I remembered even as I was unable to keep from writhing against him.
Jeremy, my roommate? But no, the man behind me didn’t sound anything like him, and Jeremy was straighter than a board and happily engaged, besides.
The man behind me chuckled. “I can hear your thoughts race, little one. I mean you no harm. Your dreams called to me and I had to have you. Now that I’ve felt you in my arms I cannot bear to let you go.”
Hear my thoughts …? “Who are you?” I whispered, still shifting against his cock.
“Do you really want to talk about that right now?” he asked, sounding amused. He thrust his hips slightly, catching the head of his cock against my needy rim.
I sucked in a gasp. “No,” I pouted.
“I’m clean,” he said quietly, “as are you. And we both know I can’t impregnate you. Is there anything else you need to know?” He began slow, teasing thrusts at my entrance, forcing my body to clench achingly around nothing.
I tried to force my brain to think. “What do I call you?” I asked.
His pause couldn’t be longer than half a moment but it was enough to draw a high whine from me. “Well,” he said, “in your dreams you always call me ‘my prince’. I quite like that.”
I gasped. “My prince.” I’d been dreaming about my prince for years. That’s what I’d called the man in my dreams, a fact I hadn’t remembered until that moment. Was this a dream? It felt so real, and while my dreams usually took place in some elusive amorphous space, I was very clearly laying on my side in my bed. My heart swelled. Was he really here?
“I really am,” he murmured, kissing that spot behind my ear that caused shivers to race down my spine. “I told you I’d come for you, didn’t I?”
“Why—” Did it matter? He was here now. “Please fuck me, my prince.”
I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “With pleasure.”
He took it slow, deepening the short thrusts at my entrance gradually. Maybe he knew how long it’d been since I’d taken anyone there, maybe he was just drawing out my agony.
“¿Por qué no los dos?” he murmured with a chuckle.
“Please, my prince, I need you,” I whimpered.
“You know I can’t handle it when you beg,” he growled. “You feel so good around my cock, baby boy. Fuck.”
His hips jerked and he plunged deeper, but still not to the hilt. Still, I gasped. It’d been too long, and toys just didn’t cut it. I wasn’t sure how I could go back to them after this.
“You can have me anytime you want, dear one,” he said, his breath hot on my ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”
My heart leapt. No one could promise their libidos would always line up, and yet he just had.
He continued his short thrusts, persuading me open gently, and reached down to lightly stroke my cock. My body jerked in his grip at the contact. He bracketed an arm firmly around my chest, holding me tightly to him and bit out a curse. “Oh how you grip me,” he breathed, placing a kiss to the side of my neck.
He reached a hand down and held my trembling thigh aloft. I relaxed into his grip even as my hips bucked into his in an attempt to entice him deeper.
He licked a stripe at the crease of my neck and groaned. “Your taste,” he rasped, his thrusts growing ever so slightly harsher. “Better than ambrosia.”
I moaned. “Please, my prince.” I could just imagine him murmuring that against my dick.
“Oh, what’s this, my dear one? Do you want me to taste your cock?” He hummed, lapping at the sheen of sweat gathering on my neck. “That will have to wait, I’m afraid, it’d all be over too soon, and what fun would that be?”
I gasped as the image of his come filling my needy hole forced every other thought from my head. “Please, my prince,” I sobbed.
“Very interesting,” he mused. “I’m not even all the way inside you yet, dear one, and you already want me to fill you with my come?” He bit down lightly on my ear and the arm across my chest tightened. “Maybe I could shorten my plans for this first round just so you remember exactly who you belong to.”
“Yours,” I rasped.
“That’s right,” he responded hotly in my ear. “All mine. Mine to fuck for as long as I want.”
It sounded wonderful, and I spasmed around him at the thought. A thought niggled at the back of my mind. “I have work,” I said with a pout.
He drew a moan from me with a particularly hard thrust. “Did you forget, baby boy? You’re mine. You’re my consort now and for the rest of time, and your only responsibility is to look handsome and ride my cock whenever you want.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Your talents are wasted there, dear one, don’t you see? Oh, you’re brilliant, and that will make you an excellent consort for me, but your true talent is to be right here in my arms.”
I couldn’t be sure what he did to my dick but I cried out harshly, arching off of him with pleasure.
“Shh,” he hushed me, sounding smugly pleased, “you don’t want to wake Jeremy now do you?” He stuffed two thick fingers into my mouth. “Now there’s a good boy, sucking me like you were made to. Once we’re back at the palace you can be as loud as you want. In fact, I’ll insist on it, as a matter of national security.”
He thrust his hips harder and pushed his cock right up against my g-spot, finally, blessedly, seating himself fully inside me. We both groaned in unison and he placed a smattering of kisses along my neck and shoulders, giving me time to adjust to his truly massive size.
He hiked my leg higher and I moaned as the movement shifted his cock inside me, rubbing deliciously against my walls.
I wanted him to move but I also didn’t want him to literally split me in half. I whimpered as competing urges warred within me.
“I’ll start off gentle,” he answered. “Are you ready for me, dear one?”
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled around the fingers stuffing my mouth full. Remembering them, I attempted to swirl my tongue around them, sucking on them and hollowinging out my cheeks.
He let out a long, rumbling groan into my shoulder. “You’re perfect for me, little one.” He began shifting his hips ever so slightly, and the friction unbearable in its too-much, not-enough intensity. His hand sped up on my dick and I ground backwards into him. “Oh, I am going to ruin you,” he murmured gleefully.
“Please…” I whimpered, or tried to. The sounds that actually reached the air were closer in relation to a desperate mewl than anything resembling human language.
Luckily, Gar seemed to understand regardless. He chuckled and began a slow, steady rhythm, grinding deliciously against my g-spot with every stroke. The combination of sensations threatened to overwhelm me. I took his fingers deeper. I wanted all of him, everything I could get. His fingers hit the back of my throat. I gagged. I pulled back slightly, took a deep breath, then dove forward again.
His groan rumbled through me and his pace, while not breakneck, steadily increased until it was all I could do to keep shoving my hips back in time to him. “You’re mine,” he whispered. “All for me.”
I nodded and whimpered desperately. He started zeroing in on the points on my cock that made zings of pleasure shoot to my core.
A hand at my asshole then, covered in slick, teased at the tight ring of muscles. I wondered briefly, distantly, how he found the lube before I couldn’t wonder, or think, anything at all. I finally stopped keeping track, awash in a sea of sensation as he filled my mouth and my hole and my ass, holding me open for him, skillfully stroking my cock, and bracketing me against his firm chest.
“You take my cocks so well, dear one,” he groaned. “Do you want to come? The cock in your hole is about ready to fill you up.”
At that, a rather insistent thought threatened to pull me away from the moment, as something didn’t seem quite right, but I pushed it aside to latch onto his question instead. I nodded, gripped with the need to orgasm and be filled with come. I sobbed as my brain filled with pleasure. I tried to warn him, but he nuzzled my neck and whispered, “Come for me,” sweetly into my ear, and it was all over.
I was grateful for the fingers stuffed down my throat because I screamed, the sound mostly muffled by the intrusion. I bucked into him wildly, and only grew more fervent as his cock pulsed and come, hotter than I’d ever felt in my (admittedly rather limited) experience, streamed into me.
“Oh, baby boy,” he murmured, still thrusting into me through his orgasm. “The things you do to me.”
It took us a long time to grind to a stop. The aftershocks gripped me for several minutes as he continued to rub deliciously against my inner walls and stroke my cock in lazy motions.
He carefully lowered my leg, removed his hand from my dick, and withdrew his fingers from my mouth and ass. His cock stayed firmly seated in my hole, however, keeping the come he’d spilled plugged inside me. I warmed at the sustained connection.
I laid there for a few seconds as my mind swirled like a koolaid pitcher someone had just stopped stirring.
After a long minute I choked out, “Cocks?”
He chuckled. “Oh you’ve been let down by human men, dear one. Yes, cocks. My primary cock just filled you with my seed, but I’ve got” –he paused for a second, seemingly counting– “seven more you can have any time you want.”
I felt very foolish with a stunning swiftness and ferocity. “Who are you?” I asked the question I really should’ve stuck on earlier. I took mental note of the number of hands he’d had on me earlier. Definitely more than two there too, even if the ones in my mouth and ass were cocks.
I turned in his arms and studied his face. I half expected to see some kind of demonic visage, but I was instead comforted by the handsome face of my prince.
A sheen of hurt shimmered in his eyes for a moment. “I’m your prince,” he murmured despondently.
I kissed him consolingly. “I know that,” I whispered, twining my arms around his neck. “What are you, my prince?”
“I’m Garliege, Crown Prince of Stelaria, Realm of the stars.”
“Which stars?” I asked with a confused frown. Was he some kind of–talent agent?
“No, dear one, the stars. The cosmos. Space?” Gar nuzzled my neck teasingly. “Surely you’ve heard of it.”
“So your dad or mom or whoever is like— A god? And that makes you—?”
“My parent, yeah. Ren’s the god of the stars. And when they decide to slip into eternal rest, that title will fall to me.”
“So you’re like a…god understudy?”
“We tend to get called gods-in-waiting, but I quite like the understudy title.” He smiled at me. “Though obviously I’m not exactly human now.”
I swallowed thickly. “I can see that.”
He drew back from me slightly. “I’ve frightened you.”
I held tighter to him. “No, no, I just— it’s a lot, you know? My— boyfriend? Is a god understudy with eight cocks and I’ve been dreaming about him for years and he’s here. In my bed. With his come dripping out of my hole.”
His face broke into a smile. “We’re boyfriends?”
“Well, uh,” I nuzzled into the soft looking skin of his neck in embarrassment. “We did just meet like thirty minutes ago, but you also said you wanted to make me your consort, which I’m pretty sure means we’d be married, so I” –I shrugged helplessly– “decided to split the difference.”
“Oh baby boy,” he murmured into my ear with smug amusement, “that was fully two hours.”
The sound that left me was entirely undignified. “Really?”
He chuckled. “Really.”
“… We’ve gotten off topic,” I said, flushing. “The point is, my last boyfriend did IT at an accounting firm. He had exactly one cock and he wasn’t even particularly proficient in using it.” I pulled back to look at him. “It’s going to take some time to adjust.”
“What do you need?” he asked, cupping my cheek.
“If I’m going to go live with you in your palace for untold…centuries? Millennia? Can you stay here with me for a while? I’ve not got much keeping me here, but I do want some time to get used to all this with a home court advantage.”
“Of course,” he said. “And when you come to live with me, you can come back at any time, with or without me. You can even keep this dwelling—”
“If I quit my job to be your consort I won’t be able to afford rent,” I interrupted with a thoughtful frown.
He chuckled. “Give me a moment.” He laid on his back and pulled out a cellphone from somewhere— you know what, on second thought, it was probably better for me not to question it. “Hey, Ren?” he said, his tone warm and familiar. “Yes, it’s going great.” He put his hand over the receiver and whispered to me, “Ren says hi.”
“He says hi back, anyway, he’s worried about not being able to afford… what was it you called it? Rent? From what I gathered it appears his local lord demands an exorbitant tribute. Do you think you could…?” He smiled. “Thank you, Ren, you’re the best.”
He turned back to me with a wide smile. “Done. You own it.”
“Your parent just bought my apartment? And gave it to me? We haven’t even met!”
“Oh, yes, but I’ve told them all about you, and they said you sounded like a nice young man just now. But no, they didn’t give you your apartment,” he said. “They gave you all of it. They don’t much like lords who take advantage of their peasants.”
“I’m not a— they gave me the building?”
“That fiend had multiple people living in one domicile? No, they gave you all of his holdings. I can never keep track of what you humans are calling them now.”
“They gave me the entire block?”
“Ah yes, that’s it.” He looked at me with a small frown. “Is that not enough? I can call—”
“No,” I said quickly, before the gifts could get out of hand. “That’s plenty, that’s more than enough. That’s more than I’d ever dreamed I’d have in a lifetime.” I gave him a short, chaste kiss. “I’ll have to think of some way to thank them. What does one do for a god?” I muttered absently to myself.
“They like popsicles,” he said helpfully.
“Popsicles?” I repeated in a disbelieving deadpan.
He nodded. “One of their more recent paramours introduced them to them. We’ve got plenty of cold, out in the cosmos, so you’d think it’d be common sense, but funnily enough, Earth is the only place in the entire universe with that artificial orange flavor. Hagen is insufferably smug about it being found in his realm.”
My brain started to whirlpool again. How did popsicles work in space? Gar’s parent took human lovers? How did that even work? I flopped back onto the bed and covered my eyes. “How the hell am I going to explain this to the IRS?” I groaned.
He leaned over me with a small frown. “You’re royalty. You don’t have to explain anything.”
My laugh bordered on hysterical. “Somehow I doubt some poor office worker is going to accept ‘My parent-in-law is the monarch of the concept of space, so I declare diplomatic immunity’ as an acceptable answer. I wouldn’t even know how to plug that into FreeTaxUSA.” I peered at him from under my hand. “Say, that’s kind of a raw deal for Hagen, eh? Your parent gets all of the infinite expanse of space, and he just gets the tiny speck of earth?”
“Nearly infinite,” Gar corrected.
“Nearly infinite?” I echoed. “Does that mean there’s an edge? What’s beyond that?”
“No edge. It’s more like a hyper-sphere. If you just keep going in one direction eventually you’ll end up back where you started. But it’s very big. You humans haven’t devised numbers large enough to conceptualize how big it is, in lightyears.”
“Even Graham’s number?” I’d had a math major girlfriend in college who’d claimed that it wasn’t possible to love to infinity, and I’d done research into big numbers for Valentine’s day one year. Now I mostly used the knowledge to sound smarter than I was at parties.
“A drop in a universe-sized bucket.”
“Woah,” I whispered. I’d been an amateur science enthusiast in my teens. I was sure there were other questions I should ask, but I couldn’t be bothered to think of them at the moment.
“Anyway, we spent a while thinking so too, and Hagen got teased for it pretty mercilessly. But now he has the orange flavor so” –he shrugged– “it all works out.”
“It does?” I said skeptically.
“When you live as long as we do,” he said, kissing my cheek, “novelty is much more consequential than magnitude.”
I nodded like I wasn’t lying in bed with a minor deity and my life still held some coherence. “I suppose that makes sense.” At least as much sense as anything else from the past two hours.
“You know,” he said quietly. “I’d worried that when I came to you, you’d be so repulsed by my form that you’d send me away. All through my trials I planned how I would plead with you, shower you in gifts, and yet here you are wanting to learn about my realm and cuddling with me.” He kissed me sweetly. “You’re a dream come true.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head with a smile, “you are.”
As I crept towards wakefulness, my hand reached out to the empty side of the bed and came away empty. A sinking feeling settled into my gut, and I sighed deeply. Of course it was just another dream. Of course. I knew how real they always felt and yet I still managed to actually believe—
The door to my bedroom burst open.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Gar lurched into the room and crouched over me on the bed. “No, baby boy I’m here. I’m sorry I— Shit.” The smell of burning wafted into the room and he darted back out into the hallway.
I blinked in astonishment. He was here. He was real. He was – I sniffed the air – burning pancakes in my kitchen.
I sighed and shouldered on my overly indulgent silk robe. I rubbed my eyes blearily and winced as I glanced at the clock. It was an ungodly hour – or was it extra-godly? Hyper-godly? Ultra-godly? Anyway, it was too damn early to be up, especially given that Gar had kept me up most of the night. I made my way to the kitchen blearily, still not quite awake, to find Gar frowning at a pair of blackened pancakes.
I stifled a giggle, the humor of the sight and happiness twirling together in my stomach.
He looked up at me and frowned harder. “No no you’re supposed to stay in—”
The door to Jeremy’s bedroom opened. “Temp?” he muttered confusedly. “Did I smell burning? What are you—?” It was clear when he spotted Gar. He straightened slightly and eyed the distance between me and him and his voice went tight. “Who’s this?”
“This is Gar,” I said, cutting him off with a pleading look. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“You have a boyfriend?” Jeremy said incredulously. “That slept over last night?”
“We were long distance,” I said, wincing at the stretched truth. “And I would’ve asked you beforehand but it was all pretty…impromptu.” I turned to Gar who had begun a futile attempt at scraping charred pancake bits from the pan. “And Gar, this is Jeremy.”
“Straight as a board, happily engaged?” he asked distractedly, glancing up briefly to cast an assessing look his way.
Jeremy blinked in surprise.
“Er…yes,” I said. We were really going to have to have a talk about this whole mind-reading business.
“Sure, after breakfast?”
“Wha— Yes, sure.”
Jeremy’s stance didn’t loosen. “Hey, Temp? Can you come in here for a second? I’ve got a, uh, spreadsheet, I need you to look at.”
I winced. “Sure thing.” I turned to Gar. “I’ll be right back.”
He nodded, his gaze still fixed on the batter adhered to the nominally non-stick pan.
Jeremy led us into his bedroom and closed the door behind him before turning to me.
“I really am sorry,” I blurted. “I know we said in our roommate agreement that we’d warm each other before we had guests but it was really…sudden,” I finished lamely.
Jeremy barked out a humorless laugh. “You really think that’s what I’m concerned about?”
I blinked at him. “It’s not?”
He smiled ruefully at me. “You know for such a smart guy, Temp, you sure can be pretty dense.” He held up a hand to stave off any objections I might have, then ran it through his hair. “No, I’m not worried about the roommate contract, or the abstract trust relationship the roommate contract represents. I’m worried about you, Temp.”
“Me?” I echoed.
“I wake up one morning and you’re with a strange man in our kitchen claiming he’s your boyfriend but acting like you’re sitting on live ammunition. And maybe I’m hoping that something’s up, because if it’s not, it means you hid a long-term relationship from me and I can’t imagine why.” He shrugged sadly. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” I insisted fiercely. “No, nothing’s up, he really is my boyfriend, and we really are friends. But it’s not like I hid him or our relationship from you.” I chose my words carefully. “We were technically long distance but not, like, dating. It was like a…sexting thing. And we ran into each other last night and figured out who each other was. And I don’t really want to get into the details—”
“Nor would I want you to,” he noted dryly.
“—But one thing led to another and now he’s here this morning.” I shrugged lamely.
He studied me for a long moment then let out a heavy sigh. “All right. I’m sorry for giving you the third degree, but I worry about you, you know?”
I smiled. “I know. And I love you for it. He’s probably going to be staying over quite a bit, and I’d like for you to get along.”
He smiled. “Right, well, now that I know he’s not some dangerous stalker, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”
I smiled back and laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you, really. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me.”
He smiled back then opened up the door and strode towards Gar.
“Pancake troubles?” Jeremy asked, following Gar’s despondent gaze to the charred mess that was once my third-favorite skillet.
Gar nodded. “I don’t know what I did wrong! The channel is called Very Delicious, and they make it look so easy!”
To his credit, Jeremy didn’t laugh, just clapped Gar on the shoulder, plugged the sink, and turned on the hot water. “There’s your problem. Those videos range between misleading to full-on lies. They set you up for failure. I’ll teach you Momma Smith’s special recipe.”
Gar’s eyes widened. “You will?” He put a hand sincerely over his heart, and I wondered briefly where the rest of his limbs were. Gar glanced at me and flashed me a smile before focusing back on Jeremy. “I am in your debt.”
Jeremy did laugh then. “I’ll put you on dish duty and we’ll call it even.”
Gar lowered his hand and a smile bloomed on his face. “Deal.”
We sat around the small breakfast nook table, what little remnants of our breakfast remained still littering its surface. The rest of the many dishes – it turned out Momma Smith’s recipe was rather involved – were already resting, clean and glistening, on the drying rack. I’d had a moment of panic as Gar had stood at the sink with a sponge and a steadily growing pile of dishes. How many princes, much less celestial ones, even knew how to wash dishes? But Gar had handled the task with an incredibly attractive good-natured ease. He’d sent me a smoldering look at that thought, and I’d tried valiantly not to flush.
The food had been delicious and the company delightful. But it was nearing time for me to leave for work, and Jeremy, though he was making an admirable attempt to hide it, was exhausted. I sighed and began collecting plates, unduly reluctant to end this cozy moment.
Gar jumped up and swept the plates from my hands with ease, bringing them into the kitchen and scrubbing away syrup and crumbs.
I turned my attention to discarded paper towels and wiping down the table as Jeremy went about sweeping up whatever we’d dropped.
As we finished up, a warmth suffused through me. It was nice how normal this all was. I focused on Jeremy who lingered hesitantly. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Go to bed. We’ll be fine.”
He searched my face for a long moment. “If you’re sure…” he said, already drooping further.
“I am. Gar has almost finished up with dishes and there’s nothing else that needs to be done right away.” It wasn’t what he was talking about and we both knew it, but he took my reassurances regardless and nodded.
“All right. I’m going to go get a few more hours of sleep. But I’ll have my ringer on, so you’ll call me if you need anything?”
I rolled my eyes, but felt warmed at his concern regardless. “Sure thing, dad.”
He chuckled. “Oh I’m not your dad,” he said with a wicked smile, “but it seems like he might be your daddy.”
He closed the door behind him and the small throw pillow I’d chucked at his head thumped inoffensively against the painted wood surface. I could hear his laughter from behind the door.
Gar came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing close, allowing me to feel the growing hardness in his pants. “Now there’s an idea,” he murmured lowly. “Do you like that, baby boy? Do you want me to be your daddy?”
I turned in his arms and buried my face in his neck. “It’s embarrassing,” I muttered.
“Is it?” he asked, voice still low seduction. “Because I rather like the idea, and from what I can hear of your thoughts you do too. So who, exactly, are we being embarrassed for?”
I pulled back the barest amount and blinked at him. “You do?”
“Mm, yes,” he hummed seductively. He ground his hips into mine and began nibbling on the shell of my ear. “In fact, I think we should go put that into practice right now.”
A full body shiver wracked my body as sensation and words struck a harmonic resonance within me. But I couldn’t fall into it like I wanted to. “I have work,” I whispered regretfully.
“I thought we’d resolved this already,” he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
“Right, yes, I’ll be fine, but I can’t just leave Meridith out to dry. Reports are due at the end of the week, and they and I are the only ones who know how to do it.”
He groaned and hauled me impossibly closer. “Your devotion to those you care about is one of the qualities that first drew me to you. I will not ask you to abandon your friend. However, if you have truly accepted your position as my consort, you have no need to please your boss.” His hands began distractingly kneading my ass cheeks rhythmically. “Show up late. Let me make love to you again.”
I was already nearly mindless with wanting. His argument could’ve held no water at all and I probably still would’ve given in. To my lust-addled brain, his logic seemed solid enough. “Yes,” I breathed.
“Daddy,” I groaned, arching off of the wicker chaise at my back. We’d decided to fuck in the sunroom, hurriedly closing the blinds and shutting the door, to avoid bothering the hopefully now-sleeping Jeremy.
Gar’s face was nestled between my thighs, alternating attention between my needy cock and obscenely slick hole, the sight alone very nearly orgasmic.
“You can,” he murmured, his lips impossibly soft against the head of my dick. “You can come now. There’s no way I’m letting you get away with just one this time anyway.”
He punctuated the statement with a long, firm pull on my dick.
I just barely remembered not to scream as I came, bucking my hips into his mouth beyond my conscious control. He rode it out, moving in time to my hips and keeping his lips firmly sealed around me.
As the pleasure subsided into floaty bliss, he pulled back, leaving a chaste kiss on my cock’s oversensitized head and smiling up at me. “We could keep going like this,” he said. “I could fuck you with one of my secondary cocks, more if you wanted, and keep sucking you off.”
I squirmed at the idea with a whimper. He only blinked placidly up at me, a banked heat in his gaze. I forced myself to think. “Some other time?” I asked finally. “I want to be close to you.”
His smile grew and became achingly fond. “Yes,” he breathed. “Tell me how you want me.”
I writhed more, wanting, needing the feel of his skin against mine. “Let me ride you?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said again.
He moved up my body and in one graceful motion settled my knees on either side of his hips, poised over his cock. “Like this?” he asked.
I whimpered and nodded. “Please.”
Despite the urgency in his grip, he paused and smirked at me. “Please, what?”
“Please,” I whimpered, nearly incoherent at the feel of his cock teasing my entrance.
He paused. Raised an eyebrow. Waited.
“Please, Daddy,” I whispered, feeling heat come to my cheeks.
“Good boy,” he groaned, urging me down onto him at the same time as he thrust up.
I’d thought that perhaps I’d imagined how good he’d felt last night, that it was the combination of half-consciousness and memories that made the experience so mind-blowing. But this morning, fully awake, the sun streaming in through closed blinds, eyes wide open, fully eliminated the possibility. He was big, stretching me in a way that others might’ve found uncomfortable, but I found the slight twinge of pain kept me grounded. His chest rubbed up against mine on every stroke, and our mouths met in a desperate clash of teeth between us.
My head dropped further forward as he set a brutal pace, licking and sucking at the soft skin on his neck, looking to leave my mark on him in some way, if only temporary.
“Yes,” he gasped, bringing a hand up to hold my head in place. “Mark me, claim me. I’m yours.”
A shudder ran through me as I did as he asked, leaving a large red welt on his collarbone. I had only a scant moment to survey my handy work with smug satisfaction before he took my mouth in another claiming kiss.
He reached a hand down and began stroking my barely recovered cock again. I gasped into his mouth and he took full advantage, using a firm grip on my hair to tilt my head back, taking all of my pleasure as his due.
He kept his hand anchored in my hair even as he pulled his mouth away from mine and began leaving nibbling kisses along the exposed column of my throat. I gasped. Vulnerability, sensation, desire. I circled my hips and clenched down hard around him, wanting to drive him out of his mind like he was doing to me. He groaned into my skin and bucked into me, harder than I thought he intended, but then that was good too, that was what I needed. He continued his trajectory, the scratch of teeth over delicate skin stinging more by degrees, until it cozied right up to the line of pain-pain. I whined high in my throat and trembled in his grasp.
He paused over my pulse, licking and sucking sweetly, any hint of teeth vanished. He stopped the motion of our hips as well, and the room echoed with the stillness.
“When you’re certain,” he murmured into the skin there, “I’ll leave my claiming mark here, and you’ll be tied to me for eternity. As will I you.”
I gasped at the words. A part of me screamed to tell him yes, to demand he claim me right now. But another part reminded me we’d only just met, insisted that I should take time to know him first. “I…”
“I know,” he answered, a touch of sadness in his tone. “I didn’t expect you to be. But I wanted you to know, wanted you to know that I want to, whenever you’re ready.”
“I will be,” I promised around the lump in my throat. “I just need—”
“Time,” he finished for me. “I know. We’ve got plenty of it. I waited so long for you through my trials, no amount you could need would ever be comparable.”
I gently tugged my head out of his grip and kissed him sweetly, with all the emotion I couldn’t yet understand or express. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“You’re always welcome to ask for whatever you need from me,” he answered, resting his forehead against mine.
I closed my eyes and soaked in the moment. I squirmed. “Fuck me, my prince?”
He smiled and resumed a steady rhythm. “Always.”