Page 78 of Worthy Promises
“Tell me, Owlie, will we be needing lube this evening?”
“Would you like to be fucked?”
“Clearly. You’ve kept me waiting for weeks. How hungry do you wish me to be for your dick?”
“I didn’t want to presume anything,” Oliver said, shoving his pants and underwear down his legs. His heavy dick bobbed, but Oliver ignored it as he stepped out of the last of his clothing and clambered onto the mattress. Next to him, Worthington plucked the lube out of his nightstand and presented it to Oliver with a flourish.
“I expect you’ll want to take charge of the entire stretching part of this evening.”
“Unless you prefer otherwise.”
Worthington leaned over and kissed Oliver’s chin. “I’ve dreamed—rather erotically, I might add—of those long elegant fingers inside me. Followed rather closely by your lovely cock.”
“I’ve been dreaming about the same thing,” Oliver confided, scooting closer to Worthington and taking the bottle from him. Before Oliver had any of the slick on his fingers, Worthington flicked the sheets out of the way and bent his knees. Oliver licked his lips as Worthington spread his legs.
As he allowed friction to heat the liquid on his hand, Oliver nimbly climbed down the mattress so he had a perfect view of Worthington’s furry balls, rigid cock, and tight hole. The thought of being inside Worthington threatened to steal Oliver’s control, but he somehow kept ahold of his wits as he reached out and touched the puckered skin of Worthington’s center.
Worthington shivered and sighed as Oliver toyed with him, then slid a finger inside him.
“Don’t be so stingy.”
“Don’t top from the bottom.”
“To think I’ve known you for all these weeks and never understood what a mean streak you have,” Worthington complained. He’d latched his hands on the sides of his thighs, and there was tension in every line of his muscled body.
“Relax. We don’t have to rush.”
Worthington glared. “If you wanted me to be docile and remain calm through this, you should’ve fucked me weeks ago. I need you, Owlie.”
Careful not to hurt him, Oliver switched to two digits so his mate wouldn’t grow overly frustrated with him. While Oliver understood the urgency of wanting to fuck, he wanted their first time having intercourse to have some level of specialness to it. Oliver wasn’t terribly experienced, and it was important to him that Worthington was fully satisfied.
Oliver wanted to appreciate the moment. Not to mention the long-limbed, gorgeous man sprawled out on the mattress below him. Desperate to please him, Oliver used his free hand to trace circles on Worthington’s tight balls. Worthington squirmed, so Oliver wrapped the dragon shifter’s length in his fist and pumped in rhythm with the fingers slowly opening his other half up.
“Oh, fuck,” Worthington breathed out, arching his neck and digging his head into the soft pillow beneath his glossy locks. With color running high on his cheeks, neck, and shoulders, Worthington had never looked sexier. The muscles of his belly tightened as he wiggled his hips slightly.
Satisfied that Worthington wasn’t in pain, Oliver slid three digits into his glistening hole. Worthington bit his lip and whimpered slightly as Oliver continued to jerk him at a measured pace designed to entice but not give his mate enough friction to come. He didn’t bother toying with his prostate; he wasn’t interested in punishing Worthington.
Thankfully Oliver had climaxed with Worthington enough to know the little signs signaling how close his man was, and while the Duke Argent would complain more about their pace before the night was through, he wasn’t teetering on the edge yet. Oliver continued to work at stretching Worthingtonas he cherished the feel of his veiny dick against his palm for countless minutes until a fine sheen of moisture covered them both.
Finally satisfied that Worthington would feel nothing but exquisite pleasure as he entered him, Oliver freed his fingers and released his hold on Worthington’s length. Needing to kiss him, Oliver planted his hands on either side of his mate just beneath Worthington’s pillow. Worthington lifted his head and met him halfway in a ravenous open-mouthed kiss that had Oliver’s beast screeching in his head.
It was a cry of pride that Fate had paired them with a man so perfectly designed for Oliver and his owl. Despite knowing how much he already loved Worthington and yearned for a life together, it was a surprise when Oliver’s gums tingled. Knowing that his fangs were momentarily going to make an appearance, Oliver tore his mouth free and stared at Worthington.
Their breaths were coming in pants, and there was concern in Worthington’s blue gaze that had darkened with need.
“Are you okay, Owlie?”
Unwilling to get into a discussion about their future and how soon they could be mated while desire raged through them, Oliver nodded.
“Can you find the lube? I can’t remember where I tossed it.”
“Of course.”
Because Worthington had a healthy mischievous streak, he didn’t hand the bottle to Oliver. Instead, Worthington dumped some slick into his own hand and smothered Oliver’s cock with the cold liquid.
Hissing with a mixture of shock and pleasure, Oliver allowed Worthington his fun. But the second he was satisfiedthat he was appropriately coated, he fixed a stern expression on his face.
“Let go, Worthington.”
