Page 130 of Hate Mates

“Touch me, Freddie, please, please, touch me,” Roux manages to get out the second time he tries to speak. It still sounds more like an animalistic whine than words, but I understand it well enough to act on the request.

I tear myself free from the ironclad grip of hands and thighs, creating space between us again so that Roux’s next grind meets nothing but empty air, which Roux vehemently protests until I take my hand from his chest and move it down, shoving inside his underwear to fist his stiff cock and pump it, slicking myself up with spit and pre-cum first to allow for an easier glide.

Roux releases a strangled noise, and I catch the tail end of it with my mouth, taking him with a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, licking into him with my tongue, mimicking how I would fuck his burning hot hole.

I keep up a steady rhythm of jerking his cock and pinching his nipple, a little harder now that he has the extreme contrast to balance out the pain-pleasure responses.

One of Roux’s hands shifts to grasp the back of my neck in a possessive hold. He tugs me in a little roughly and kisses me back with twice the fervour. His other hand slips inside my underwear to wrap his slimmer fingers around my aching cock. He rubs his thumb over the slick head, turning my brain inside out, and then starts working my dick with a precision and skill that makes me feel wildly jealous at the thought of anyone else ever getting to have his hands on them like this. He strokes me at varying speeds and tightness, squeezing my balls and rubbing a hooked finger over my taint, playing with me until I’m almost incoherent with the immense amount of pleasure rocketing through every electrified nerve in my cock.

With the benefit of dual stimulation, Roux comes first, arching up against me with a cry torn from somewhere deep inside his chest, his hand stilling on me whilst his orgasm rips through him in torrents.

Once he’s able to move again, he goes back to working on me, pressing dirty, tender kisses to every patch of skin he can reach as he draws an intense answering orgasm out of me. He murmurs words of encouragement into my skin, telling me, “Come on, babe, let go, it’s okay, Freddie, just let go, I’ve got you.”

My thighs shake with the power of my orgasm, my cock stripping cum so scorching hot it feels like there should be heat waves coming off it. I’m like a new fawn, unable to hold myself up. I collapse on top of Roux, and he takes my weight without hesitation. He wraps his legs and arms around me as I bury my face against his throat, still resisting the urge to sink my teeth into his sweat-soaked skin.

For a while, we just cling to each other in the dark. Roux strokes my back, trailing his fingers over my skin and shoulder blades, soothing me until I can breathe easily again, and my body stops feeling like it’s been reduced to melted goo.

I shift myself off Roux and roll over, tugging on him until he curls up against me, his head on my shoulder and his legs tangled with mine.

We’re both sweaty and loose-limbed, and for the first time in what seems like years, I feel like maybe I could sleep without the nightmares of everything I’ve lost ravaging my mind.

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