Page 77 of Oh, Sacred Dark
“I wanna…can I…” He grabbed Tyler’s thighs, miming pulling himself up, and Tyler helped him easily, hauling Roman into his lap.
The kiss deepened, turning wet, intimate. Roman felt eaten up—consumed. He rocked forwards, head spinning at Tyler’s small gasp.
They’d kissed a lot in the last week. Had gotten hard, pressed together on the couch, breathing into each other heavily. Hadn’t gone further, but Roman could feel it in the air now, an electricity prickling his skin.
His bodywanted.
Roman’s hips jerked as Tyler grabbed his hips in large, strong hands, fingers slipping under Roman’s shirt.
Tyler nipped at his lips, a smile curling the corners. “What do you want?”
Roman squirmed. “I…please.”
“Tell me, baby. What do you want?”
Roman buried his face in Tyler’s neck. “I want you to touch me.” He felt the shudder go through Tyler as if it were his own.
With Tyler’s help, he wiggled out of his sweats, his underwear, his shirt, until he was completely bare, splayed over his Dom.
There were no thoughts in his mind, just the warm, soupy feeling of being held by Tyler, of being tucked in subspace where nothing bad could touch him.
“Look at how wet you are,” Tyler said, brushing his finger against the head of Roman’s cock.
Roman gasped, biting his lip to keep from crying out.
“None of that. Let me hear you,” Tyler ordered, gently prying his mouth open. Just that simple touch had Roman making a small animal sound.
Tyler wrapped his hand around Roman loosely, a faint stroke as he jerked him off.
“Tyler,” Roman pleaded. He was already so worked up, thighs trembling, feeling splayed open.
Tyler hummed pleasantly but didn’t do anything to change how he was touching Roman. It was torture—the warmth of Tyler’s body, the way he trailed kisses up and down his neck, all while barely gripping him where it counted. Precome dripped between them, little mewling sounds bubbling from Roman’s lips.
He was held like that for what felt like forever, and then, suddenly, Tyler’s hand tightened, stroking him hard and fast. Roman cried out, his body convulsing, pleasure a brutal heat through his abdomen.
Just like it started, it stopped, Tyler’s hand leaving him entirely. Roman moaned, twitching. “Tyler, Tyler—please,”
“You want more?” Tyler asked sweetly.
“Please. Please.”
Tyler stroked him again, as light as the first time, and Roman could do nothing but take it, delirious with pleasure and the need for more.
Time lapped at him in waves, periods of calm followed by crashes of intolerable heat and then back once more.
Roman was mumbling incoherently by the end, mouth wet and open at Tyler’s neck.
“You’re okay, baby. You’re so good. You can come now, okay?” Tyler said.
It took a while for Roman to realise what that even meant, but then Tyler was jerking him off for real, Roman oversensitive and pleading.
The orgasm hit him like a bolt of lightning. It lit every atom up, straining his body, pleasure a ransacking force. Everything was Tyler and that blinding light.
Roman came to eventually, surfacing from subspace sated and cleaned up. He blinked at Tyler in confusion, disoriented.
“Did you…what about you?” he slurred.
“I got exactly what I wanted from that. Trust me,” Tyler replied, tucking him close on the couch.
