Page 51 of Deadly Little Sparrow

“I’m fucking obsessed with you, Xav,” he murmurs between ravenous, tongue-heavy kisses, gripping my jaw as he humps his cock against mine with a wild abandon that makes my head spin and my balls clench. “Like, it’s probably to an unhealthy level, but I don’t fucking care. I need you.”

He claws at my skin, ending his words with a needy whine that sends tendrils of electricity through me.

“That makes two of us,” I rasp, clenching my jaw against the temptation to rut into him without restraint until he’s covered in my cum.

Sparrow lets out a rough laugh and then a gasp, his cock twitching heavily against mine as a shudder racks his body and his hot, sticky release coats my shaft and splatters against my belly. Everything inside of me tightens and pulses, my lungs burning and my muscles trembling with the urge to follow him right over the edge.

A hazy smile stretches over his lips and he puts a hand on the center of my chest, giving me a small push, a wordless command to roll over. I flop onto my back, my cock throbbing with the denied release and dripping with the evidence of his orgasm. My hips jerk involuntarily and my fingers twitch towards my cock.

“Be a good boy,” Sparrow coaxes, slinking between my legs. His cock is drooping, but not fully soft, the tip of it glistening with his cum.

“I’m trying, Sir,” I grit the words out between clenched teeth.

He hums softly, lowering himself to lap a tongueful of his cum off my cock. “I’ll help you then,” he promises. “After I clean you up.” He gives me a wicked smile and then runs his tongue up my shaft again from root to tip. When he reaches the head, he tugs my foreskin carefully between his teeth and I fist the bedsheets in a desperate bid to fight off the fresh wave of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm me.

“Fuck, I can’t, Sir.” I groan as he makes the next pass with his tongue, drenching me with his saliva and making filthy sounds as he swallows down his own cum.

“Of course you can,” Sparrow scoffs, pressing a mind-melting chaste kiss to the base of my erection before climbing off the bed.

I whimper and watch as he crosses the room to pull open the bottom dresser drawer. I’m expecting the restraints—aching for them, actually—but he pulls out something much smaller instead. It’s a leather cock ring that, like all the toys in that drawer, was bought and never used… until tonight, apparently.

Eager shivers work their way along my skin as Sparrow tugs each of the many straps loose while he makes his way back over to the bed.

“It’s so pretty,” he coos, climbing onto the foot of the bed and crawling up to hover over me, straddling my thighs. “It’s going to look even better around your thick, throbbing cock though.”

Instead of a single strap around the base, there are six in total.

Sparrow teases his index finger over the seam down the center of my sac. My breath catches and my toes curl as his featherlight touch melts away and is replaced by a rough grasp, his thumb and forefinger clenching tightly around my balls to tug them away from my body. An inferno of heat flashes over my skin, my cock jerking and twitching, incoherent babbles falling from my lips as he fastens the first strap around my balls to keep them where they are. I can feel the delicious ache immediately, every thumping beat of my pulse pounding in my restrained balls.

The next strap goes around the base of my cock, making it even more swollen than it already was. My foreskin rolls back and a milky drop of precum drips from my slit.

“Shhh, your Little Sparrow has you,” he coos, leaning over to kiss the head of my cock with the same incongruent innocence as before, the droplet of precum clinging to his lips when he sits up again.

He fastens the rest of the straps one by one, a ladder of leather wrapped around my cock from root to tip, keeping me painfully hard, teetering on the edge between pleasure and insanity.

“See? Now you can be a good boy like you want,” he says, too sweetly for the way he’s torturing me.

“Thank you, Sir,” I pant.

He flattens himself on top of me, his cock already fully hard again, nearly as hard as mine as he grinds against me and ravishes my mouth with more demanding kisses. It’s too much to bear and I never fucking want it to end. I let go of the tether of control I didn’t realize I was still clinging to and sink fully into the feeling of being owned by him, being used by him… being loved by him. Even if we haven’t said the words yet, that’s what this feeling is.

Every sensation in my body makes me dizzy. I can feel every touch, everywhere, all at once, floating in a hazy sea of surrender. I’m boneless by the time he breaks the kiss. Has it been minutes? Hours? I wouldn’t know and it doesn’t matter.

“Can you roll over for me, Killer?” he asks, his lips brushing against my ear, his fingers roughly teasing the oversensitive peaks of my nipples.

I loll my head up and down lazily, unsure whether I actually can roll over right now or not. But if Sparrow wants it, I have no doubt I’ll find the strength. His laughter is warm, wrapping around me like a blanket as he helps me onto my hands and knees, pushing my shoulders down so I’m resting my head on my folded arms, my ass on offer and my leather-clad cock dangling, throbbing between my legs.

SPARROW

If there’s a prettier sight in the world than this, I can’t imagine what it would be. Xaviaro’s face is slack with beautiful submission, but the rest of his body is fully alert. His muscles twitch and relax, his cock jerks eagerly, and when I kneel behind him and part his ass cheeks, his hole clenches and flutters.

I lean in and drag the flat of my tongue over his pucker, a muffled whimper tumbling from his lips. I moan and lick him again, wrapping a hand around my cock and stroking myself in long, firm tugs while I lap at his rim. His back rises and falls with fast, trembling breaths that tumble into whimpers and more moans, his hips twitching helplessly. But he doesn’t beg. He never begs. From the first night I ordered him to his knees and took what I needed from him, he’s given me nothing but the sweetest trust and surrender.

I would cut my heart out and hand it to him on a silver platter. Is that love?

I give in to the feral urge to nip at his rim, shoving my tongue inside to lick him deeper, fucking it in and out, his muscles tightening and softening around the intrusion, quivering with need. My balls tighten and my skin heats. All my earlier orgasm seemed to do was make me more sensitive, rather than quenching the hunger inside of me. I groan, wiggling my tongue inside of him and then easing it out again, getting drunk on the sounds he makes and the way he squirms no matter how hard he tries to be good. Lapping and sucking, I work his hole open with my tongue, then with two fingers. My saliva dripping from him is more than enough lube, letting me slip them inside with relative ease. The hot clench of his inner muscles makes my cock ache and my balls pull tight.

I lean back to appreciate the view—my fingers fucking in and out of his tight hole, the leather strap around his balls tugging them down, keeping them full and swollen, swinging wildly with every one of his fruitless thrusts. The sight alone has a second orgasm barreling through me. I cry out, aiming for his hole as my balls constrict and more thick ropes of my cum paint his hole and drip down the crease between his full, round cheeks.

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