Page 103 of Felix

Christian

Emil’s apartment is quiet when I enter. I lock the door behind me, heading straight for his room. I falter at the doorway.

Emil is on his hands and knees. Or, rather, hand and knees. His chest is bowed toward the bed, cheek against the mattress, one hand in the sheets as his other holds on to the dildo in his ass. He’s moving it almost leisurely, in and out at a slow pace as if savoring the glide. His ass is aimed my way, giving me a perfect view of every stroke and the way his body yields to the toy, welcoming it in.

“Are you going…to just stand there?” he asks around panting breaths. “Or are you going…to touch me?”

“Fuck, Specs,” I mutter, my gaze roaming over every inch of him. He got rid of his shirt, leaving him entirely bare, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more enticing sight than this man waiting for me on his bed in nothing but glasses with a fake dick up his ass. “Thank God for asbestos.”

“What?” he asks, trying to look back at me.

I shake my head quickly, shucking my clothes. “Nothing.”

When I ease onto the mattress, Emil groans. “Thank fuck,” he says, making a tortured sound as he pushes the toy in from tip to base. “Need your hands, Christian. Need them…like air.”

“Jesus, you get mouthy when you’re turned on,” I say, appreciative of that fact.

He lets the dildo go the moment my hand touches his, and I grip the base, pumping it in and out. His moan has my gut clenching.

“Look at you,” I nearly whisper.

“In me,” he rasps, widening his stance, both hands near his head now. “Get in me, Christian.”

“You say my name a lot when you’re turned on, too,” I tell him. “Even in our videos. You beg for Vixen.”

“If you think…” He huffs out a breath as I grind the dildo shallowly. “If you think…I’m going to be ashamed…of asking for what I want, you’re wrong.”

“Never,” I assure him, taking his cock in hand. I give him a slow stroke. “It’s beautiful. Every goddamn thing about you, Specs. Tell me what you want. Ask for it. Beg for it. I want to give it to you.”

“Your dick,” he huffs out indignantly, making me laugh. “Gimme your fucking dick.”

“All yours.”

I pull out the lubed toy and drop it on the bed. I’m up on my knees, the tip of my cock slotting against Emil, when I pause.

“Shit, condom?” I ask.

We’ve never gone without. But neither of us has partners outside of the studio, so if he wants to…

“No,” Emil answers, pushing back against me and enveloping the tip of my cock. “Just you. C’mon.”

Biting my lip—hard—I ease inside Emil’s body. He’s already loose from the dildo, but he still clasps me like a fist, his internal rings gripping as I press forward, those same muscles trying to hold me tight as I ease back out. Emil groans impatiently, but I take my time, in and out, in and out, until, finally, my hips meet his ass.

“Fuck,” I mutter, my entire body rolling in a shiver. “I feel like I already came.”

He huffs out a small laugh, which makes me groan.

“Christ, Specs. The way you feel.”

“My ass loves you,” he says.

This time, it’s me laughing. “Could I stay here forever?”

He wiggles back on me, hips rolling. “Who would get me food while I study?”

“We can move the fridge.”

He chuckles into the bedding before easing up onto his hands. “Sit on your heels,” he tells me.

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