Page 83 of Covenant

He shivers as the cold permeates his skin, his cock jerking between his legs as I drag it down to his nipple, swirling it, watching that dark nub pucker.

“Wy,” he gasps as my other hand slides down his chest to his waiting dick, curling around it and tugging. His back arches, thrusting up into my palm as I drag the ice cube to the other nipple, letting it sit there for a minute before leaning forward and latching on to it. His skin is cold under my warm tongue, my teeth raking against it.

He groans as I suck on him, his hands moving into my hair, tugging roughly.

My fist slides up and down his cock, making him tremble and buck, his moans growing louder and louder as I stand up and meet his stare. I don’t stop either. I just continue to work him toward the edge.

“You’re just a desperate little slut for me, aren’t you?” I rasp, and he nods, his cheeks flushed.

“Say it, Matt. Fucking say it.”

“Your slut,” he groans as his hands fall to my biceps, holding on for dear life.

His admission makes my cock lurch forward, wanting him to sink to his knees and suck, but I don’t ask for it. Because I know if he does that, I’ll explode. I won’t last a second. So instead, I drag that ice cube down to his belly button and swirl it around the small opening, watching his abdomen flex, his muscles popping out. He has a six-pack and it shows right now.

I want to lick and bite my way across each bump.

“Wy. Please,” he begs, his fingernails digging into my skin as he holds on to me. I trace that ice cube down to his cock, watching a tendon pop from his skin as he cries out. My name.Wy. A prayer. He’s begging me. But I don’t let up, just continue to tease him until that ice cube is nothing more than water on our skin. He’s shaking roughly now, his entire body on fire, dripping with melted ice and pre-cum.

My cold fingers slide around to his ass dipping between his cheeks and finding his hole. It’s puckered and hot, and as I continue to fist his cock, my own dragging up the side of his hip, my lips lean toward his ear.

“Look how tight this hole is,” I whisper, my words hitting the lobe of his ear and making him buck his hips up.

“You want me inside? You want to feel me splitting you wide open?”

He nods, wild with lust, his hands frantically trying to find purchase on something.

He turns his head slightly, one of his hands landing on my shoulder and then we’re kissing roughly, teeth clashing as my fingertip—just the tip—pushes into his ass. He cries out, his rim flexing against me as his cock jerks in my hand, his cum shooting onto me and the floor. I stroke him through it, collecting his release in my palm and watching as he slumps forward, trying to catch his breath, but I’m not done.

I’m not fucking done.

With my free hand, I spin him around and push him forward, his body bent over the island as I use his cum to lube my own dick. I spread his ass cheeks wide, eyeing that pink hole before sliding my cock up his crack, using him as a sleeve, as my own personal fuck toy. I watch as my dick slides up and down him, listening to the squelch of it, the way he’s groaning.

And then he starts to beg.

“Fuck me, Wy. Please. Fuck me. I need it. I need—oh god. Please.”

I fucking could. I could slide my cock right into him, take him with just his cum as lube, but I don’t.

I’m not ready yet.

I squeeze his cheeks tighter, giving myself the much-needed friction, and the sight of Matt bent over, his plump ass taking my dick is all I need to explode. My release hits his lower back as I shake and tremble, my fingers digging so deeply into his ass cheeks I know he’ll have bruises there later.

I fall onto him, my cock still cradled in his ass, my forehead meeting the top of his spine as I press a kiss to his sweaty skin.

“Perfect,” I say, and he moans as I slowly step away. “Now, let’s shower. And this time, Matt, we’re showering together.”

* * *

When we finally emerge from the bathroom, exhausted and skin wrinkled, I make a beeline for the bed. I collapse face-first on the sheets, a loud moan slipping free. “Do you think these sheets were made from actual silk? Like the kind that caterpillars make.”

“I think you mean a silkworm. Not a caterpillar.”

I glower at him. “Same fucking thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Matt,” I grunt, and he lets out a chuckle.

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