Page 83 of Phantom Faceoff
I have to break away to hunt for the lube I’d tossed somewhere on the grass when we got here, and even though he’s somewhat grinning at my unpreparedness, Malachi doesn’t move from the spot I placed him.
Once I’ve got the bottle, I’m back on my knees with a dick in my mouth, but this time I’m on a mission.
With my fingers coated in lube, I reach back to spread Malachi’s cheeks, half thinking aboutactuallyspanking him, but I’ll have to shelve that for another time. Right now, my focus is on opening him up to take me.
That first press in past the tight ring of muscles has his thighs flexing and straining. I pour more lube, rubbing and pushing on his pucker until it gives easily. Then, I work my entire finger in slowly until I reach the second knuckle.
His dick falls from my lips, and I press a quick kiss to his hip. “Think you can take another one, Daddy?”
For once, it doesn’t come out mocking. It just feels … right.
He laughs humorlessly and rolls his hips back on the finger inside of him. “Yeah.”
Even though the air around us holds a sharp chill, Malachi’s face and neck are beading with sweat, and I watch him carefully as I fit another finger in beside the first.
By the time I’m three fingers deep, Malachi’s dick is angry and red; I’ve made sure to pay it plenty of attention to distract from the stretch.
“One last time,” I say, pressing deep and listening to the long, drawn out moan it causes. “You want this rough and dirty?”
This has already been distraction enough from the shit with my parents, but if he wants the whole cage open, I’ll give it to him.
His gray eyes are a little hazy as they lock onto mine, but the hands that grapple at my shoulders and pull me to stand have clear intentions.
“Wreck me, Wildfire.” Pure heat comes off of the words. He brushes his lips over mine.
Okay, yup, I can do that.
I hate to separate from him again, and as I slip my fingers from his hole, he catches my lip between his teeth. While it doesn’t draw blood, I have no doubt it’ll be busted and blue by the end of the night.
The condoms take me a minute longer to find, but as soon as I do I thrust my underwear down and slip one over my leaking cock. It’s not sexy in any way; it’s frantic and downright comical how I try and step out of my boxers without falling over.
As soon as I’m fully gloved up, I march back to Malachi an yank his face to mine. I press my cock into his stomach, and then line our dicks up and hold them both in my hand. He groans and gasps into my mouth, and as I rut us together, his hand comes down on my ass.
Hard.
He’s told me what he wants. Stop overthinking it.
“Impatient,” I mutter and take a step back. “Are you going to get on your knees, or do I need to put you there?”
His eyes flash with a deep arousal, one that burns in my own gut and spurs me on to weave my fingers into his hair and pull until he shudders and drops down.
I smack my dick on the side of his face, rubbing the latex covered head over his lips but not asking for entrance.
“You’re so pretty,” I say softly more for myself than him. I’ve always thought it, but didn’t dare say it out loud.
Now that I have, the blush on his cheeks emboldens to say it again.
“So pretty on your knees, waiting to be fucked.”
At the edge of my ability to hold out, I circle around him. My fingers find his name and trail down. Over each bump and ridge of his spine. Into the little dimples on his lower back.
He shivers, either from the cold or my touch, but I know I’ll have to save the exploratory play for later.
I brace my hands on his shoulders and shove. He catches himself on his elbows, digging into the dirt and knees scrapping forward a few inches at the force.
There’s no complaint, just air hissing through his teeth.
I grab the bottle of lube at the base of the tree and coat my dick until I feel it dripping down my balls. Then, I crouch down and spread Malachi’s cheeks, pressing a finger into his hole to make sure he’s still good and open.
