Page 256 of Outlaws of Tulsa

I hate that I swoon when he says that. When he leaves off the prospect part of my road name. It’s such a small thing, but it really turns me on and makes me feel more than desired. Cherished. By Chase the motherfucking dragon.

He digs his thumbs into each of my ass cheeks, spreading them to expose my hole to him. Heat floods through me, burning over my flesh much hotter than the shower water. I’m at his mercy, being forced to show him a vulnerable part of me.

I expect a glob of conditioner.

Or an antagonistic comment.

Mostly, I expect a rough finger.

What I don’t expect is a tongue, tentatively tasting me there. Again! I would shudder at the kinkiness of it and his apparent newfound love for it, except it feels too fantastic. Flutters of pleasure splinter through me, making me nearly black out from bliss.

“You like that?” His words are whispered against the hole. What the fuck? Who whispers to someone’s asshole? Why do I like it?

“Y-Yes.”

“Me too.”

I don’t get a chance to revel in our shared love of this naughty act because he begins licking and sucking and fucking nibbling my hole with more zeal than the last time. Practice makes perfect, it would seem.

Fuck.

It feels insanely good.

My knees buckle and moans spill out of me. I don’t care, though. I brace my hands on the wall and shamelessly push my ass against his greedy tongue, aching for more. More. More.

With a groan that vibrates me down to my toes, he pushes against the pucker. To my mix of delight and horror, his tongue penetrates me like last time. Presses inside me, hot and wetand slick. It feels unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life because it’s somehow ten times better than his last stab at it.

I love it.

“Oh, God,” I whimper. “Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He eats me like there’s no tomorrow. Tongue fucks me like it’s his job. The man might be crazy as hell, but he’s good at this—sex—us. His tongue slides out of me, causing me to whimper, but then his finger is there, longer and firmer. He curls his finger, pressing against my prostate with enough pressure it has me crying out in ecstasy. My nuts tighten and cum shoots out of me, splattering the wall in front of me.

“I love when you whimper for me,” he croons, his praise washing over me like the hot water coming from the showerhead. “I also love it when you scream.”

To punctuate his words, he pushes another finger into my clenching, sensitive hole. I can barely hold myself up, still quaking from the aftershocks of my incredible orgasm.

“Say it,” he commands.

“I love it.”

We’re in sync. I know what he wants because I want it too. This chaotic mix of roughness blended with beautiful pleasure. A two-sided coin of pain and bliss.

His fingers slip out of me and then I vaguely hear a squirt. I no longer care that he’s using conditioner. All I care about is him fucking me. Now. His massive hand comes around my front, splaying over my abs as he rubs the head of his cock along my crack.

“Beg to be fucked, Cove.”

My name on his lips is intoxicating.

“Fuck me, Chase. Fuck me like I belong to you.”

He doesn’t get pissy at the use of his real name and I don’t apologize for it. It felt right coming out of my mouth in thismoment. Together, we’re sharing something that has nothing to do with the Royal Bastards. This is just us. Chase and Cove.

He drives into me hard, one fluid thrust of his hips. His thickness stretches me to the point of pain and the conditioner creates a stinging burn that makes me aware of every nerve ending inside of my asshole. I cry out, overcome with the way he obliterates me. He digs his fingers into my flesh, no doubt bruising me with his brutal grip. All I can do is hold on to the wall for dear life as he thunders his hips against me. The slap of our skin echoes loudly, but our moans are much louder. His dick is long, stabbing at my insides, making sure I’ll never forget the way he feels in me.

A guttural growl rips from his throat and he sinks his teeth into my shoulder. His cock swells, stretching me even further, and then I feel it pulsate inside me, filling me with his cum. I like the idea of him filling me to the brim. The warmth of it staying inside me until he’s ready to lick and suck it back out.

He pulls me upright, hugging me against his chest, still impaling me despite the softening of his cock. Something about this moment feels raw and dangerous. Like if we have any more, we’ll be beyond itch-scratching territory and in some other land we’ll never find our way out of.

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