Page 31 of Jamie
Silas returned to his ass, this time pushing a finger into his hole, slick and warm and so different from his tongue, but still good. Still very good.
His entire body was relaxed, easy, melting around that perfect touch.
Bran grabbed his leg and tugged it up over Bran’s, opening him up for Silas whose finger kept fucking him, the sensations building slowly.
He would give them anything. He was melted and happy, utterly relaxed.
One finger became two, Silas stretching him wider, opening him up. Bran gave him slow kisses, one after the other, stealing his breath.
“One day, sweet boy, you’ll look back at today, and you’ll be surprised how much you’ve stretched.”
“Mmm. He is tight, Bran. So beautifully tight.” Silas pushed his fingers in deeper. They slid over his prostate, and he gasped out a cry.
“Oh there,” Bran said. “Right there.”
“Here?” Silas’s fingers pushed against that spot again.
His eyes rolled and his body jerked, the motion wild.
Bran’s chuckle was husky, sexy. “Yes, Silas. Right there.”
Like it was the cue Silas had been waiting for, he hit that spot over and over again, the pressure and pleasure sending him rolling into Bran, rubbing against him.
All James could do was feel. There was nothing else left inside him.
“Ready for another finger?” Silas asked.
“He’s ready,” Bran told Silas when James didn’t answer—he just didn’t have the words.
“Such a good baby boy. You make me so proud.” The pressure got bigger.
The invasion got bigger, wider, more, as Silas pushed in another finger. He couldn’t believe he was stretching this big, though he knew Silas’s cock was even bigger—he could feel that against his skin.
He wanted it, though, and he wasn’t scared. He was ready.
“I can’t wait much longer,” Silas sounded a bit strained as he pushed his fingers deep and spread them wide, opening James up.
“Please. No more waiting. I want to know.”
“Oh, thank god.” Silas tugged his fingers out, leaving Jamie empty.
Bran gave that husky chuckle again. “You two need so well and are stunning together. Just stunning.”
“Are you… what about you?” he moaned.
“The rubbing’s pretty damn good, and I’ll come from that and watching. And such good instincts, boy, thinking of my pleasure, too.”
“I’m not selfish. I swear.” Insane with pleasure, yes. Selfish. No.
“No, that never occurred to me.” Then Bran kissed him again, and he felt a hot pressure against his hole. He stayed open and relaxed, letting Silas in and in.
Silas groaned, the sound guttural, primal, as the hard prick spread him wide.
“Fuck…”
Bran chuckled, the sound somehow dark. “No cursing, sweet boy.”
“Besides,” whispered Silas. “It’s called making love.”
