Page 4 of Collin: Episodes 13-15
Damian’s hands settled on Collin’s rear. He shuffled between Collin’s thighs, kissing them and taking over for Mr. Reevesworth’s hands, resettling Collin so he knelt comfortably with access.
Mr. Reevesworth spread Collin’s hole with his thumbs. “Still wet for you, Pup.”
“So perfect,” Damian murmured. And then he was pressing his cock against Collin’s hole.
Damian sank into him without resistance. How could there be any? He couldn’t close his legs. Couldn’t even push back. His hole had been stretched and lubricated, and he was pinned between two men, splayed open. Tears slid from his eyes and splatted down on the bed.
I’m submissive. This is my place. So submissive. Clay in his Master’s hands. And he wanted nothing else.
Damian settled against Collin’s ass, his cock encased in Collin’s channel to the hilt. He swirled his hips, groaning.
“So good, sir.”
“Take your time, Pup. Enjoy him.”
Collin released one arm from around Mr. Reevesworth’s waist and reached for Émeric. The Frenchman took his hand and squeezed.
Damian surged inside him, hard and slow, hands gripping Collin’s hips like an absolution and a salvation.
“Needed this, sir,” Damian whispered. “Feels so good, little brother.”
Something flushed through Collin’s nerves. He was crying harder but smiling at his sir and hugging Richard hard around his waist. He wished he could hug Damian, but all he could do was tighten his channel around Damian’s cock. Émeric wiped tears from Collin’s face. Once or twice, he looked up and nodded, and Collin knew Richard was using Émeric to check on him.
He was loved. He was precious. Richard’s hands were roaming his body. Damian was gripping him like the last good thing on earth. And Émeric was watching him with nothing but wonder and joy.
He must have slipped through reality into some other place. A place where he had gone to his knees and it was safe. No, more than safe.
A roar filled his ears, and he convulsed, trembling through something that wasn’t an orgasm so much as a wave of an emotion.
“Damian. Please.”
“Collin.” Damian’s voice broke.
Collin shuddered. He gripped Richard harder with his one arm, squeezing the man’s waist against his neck and shoulder. His Master pressed kisses against every part of Collin he could reach with his lips.
It was a storm. Collin let go. His body moved, rolling back against Damian, caught up in the passion and the need. He writhed on Damian’s cock, squeezing and caressing it with his channel and his thoughts. He wanted Damian to feel wanted, powerful, beautiful.
Memories of the energy that had flowed between him and Richard before came back. Collin pulled on that energy. His master was all around him, cradling him like something precious even while offering him up. Collin’s hole spasmed, feeling his Master’s hands pulling his cheeks apart even more, holding him in place even as Collin’s body twisted and shuddered.
“Take it, little one. Let Damian have you. My gift to him. You’re making him sweat, precious boy. You’re going to wring him dry.”
Guh! He wanted to give to Damian, to be given to his kink brother, to take him to that place of bliss he’d seen on his men’s faces when he brought them pleasure. His heart reached out, willing his love and offering toward Damian. And there, reaching back for him was Damian’s power and his own passion. His adoration for Collin and Collin’s submission to their dom. It was in the man’s hands, on the man’s lips in each pant and half-broken word of praise and thanks. It was in the hardness of his cock, slamming into Collin’s body, rooting into Collin’s heat. The man could fuck. He was all rounded muscle and thick forearms against Collin’s waist and hard, contracting quadriceps pressing against the inside of Collin’s splayed thighs.
Damian cried out, his rhythm stumbling. Over Collin’s back, Émeric and Richard kissed. And they were part of the energy too, two spinning balls of light in Collin’s mind, exchanging endlessly, then sinking into Collin, blending with him and Richard, then him and Damian.
Cum spat into Collin’s sensitive hole. Damian bore down, cock jerking. Chest heaving, he rested on Collin’s back.
Collin whimpered.
“Let me, Pup.”
Damian drew out and dropped to the side. Richard’s legs came out from under Collin. He flipped him onto his back and slammed into Collin’s stretched, tender hole.
Collin’s back bowed off the bed. His head fell back, and he screamed. His knees came up, clenching around his Master’s hips, but his Master was already pulling back, pumping into Collin again. He pushed Collin’s legs higher, over his shoulders, and now there was nothing Collin could do to slow him down or control the depth of his Master’s cock owning him.
Wrecking him.
It was thunder and lightning in his nerves. It was a bright burn in his channel. He gripped at his Master’s shoulders.
