Page 18 of Cassian

Blake lifted the small bottle of lube up high, as if Cass was going to snatch it out of his hands. “No,I’mgonna do it. I’m taking care of you, remember?”

Cass was ready to protest, but Blake’s cock jerked along with his words, and Cass had a little moment of realization: Blake liked taking care of Cass. Like, thehornykind of liked it.

Blake settled down on his belly, in between Cass’s legs. He was socloseto all Cass’s bits. Would it be a turn-off? He had just come to terms with being attracted to dudes at all; did he really want a dick in his face?

But when Cass peered down, Blake looked happy as he’d ever seen him, rubbing his cheeks against the inside of Cass’s thigh like a damned cat, his stubble sending tickles up Cass’s spine. “So smooth, baby.”

Cass had never had much hair. Not on his chest or anywhere else. Well, there weresomeplaces; he just kept it neatly trimmed. But Blake didn’t seem to mind.

He was still rubbing his head against Cass’s skin when Cass felt the first lubed fingertip press against his hole. “Oh—”

He considered again letting Blake know about the “no just jamming things in” rule, but Blake was already shushing him. “Sh, baby. ’M not gonna hurt you.”

And he didn’t. He just rubbed that fingertip along Cass’s most sensitive skin, seemingly in no hurry. Meanwhile, he started pressing kisses along Cass’s stomach, his hips, every now and then brushing his lips along Cass’s dick in a horrible tease.

It went long enough that Cass started squirming, just like he had on Blake’s lap that morning. And maybe that had been the goal, because Blake was looking up at him, practically beaming.

“Blake,” Cass whined.

“Yes, baby?”

“It doesn’t have to bethisslow.”

“It doesn’t?” Blake asked, all false innocence.

“I’ll bite you,” Cass threatened.

Blake didn’t look at all frightened by the threat, but he did start pressing his fingertip in. Andoh, that was nice. Really nice. His finger was so much bigger than Cass’s own. Which led to a moment of panic: just his finger was that much bigger; what about his fucking dick?

But Blake still didn’t seem to be in any hurry. He kept pressing his finger in, moving it about, eventually finding a spot that made Cass yelp and then stroking it mercilessly.

When Cass stared down at him, he just smirked. “Straight guys have prostates too.”

He made Cass beg for the second finger and the third, content to press kisses along every inch of reachable skin, murmuring “take care of you” and “so pretty” over and over while Cass trembled beneath him.

Cass began to worry maybe Blake was delaying, that he wasn’t aching to fuck Cass the way Cass was aching to be fucked. Eventually he found the strength to lift his head to ask, “Blake?”

Blake took one look at his concerned face and laughed before sitting up and showing Cass what his other hand had been up to: mainly holding his cock in a viselike grip, presumably to stop him from coming too soon. He was still rock-hard, little pearly drops of precum forming at the angry red tip.

Cass beamed in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“Did you think I didn’t want this, baby? With you looking so pretty and trembling so nicely for me?”

That was all well and good, but he was still taking his sweet time. “I’m ready, okay?” Cass reassured. “So ready. You’ve taken really good care of me, I promise. And now you have to fuck me, or I’m going to lose my mind.” Cass spread his legs wide, feeling foolish but hoping it would be some sort of appealing.

And apparently it was, because Blake did one hard swallow, and then he was tearing the condom wrapper off with almost supernatural speed, lubing himself up with much less delicacy then he’d been showing Cass’s tender parts.

He pressed Cass’s legs back, lining himself up. Cass found himself watching Blake’s face as Blake watched himself entering him. He looked mesmerized, his plush mouth slack and his eyes heavy-lidded.

And then Blake pushed in deeper, and Cass couldn’t watch anymore. He threw his head back, trying to breathe through the insanefullness. This was it. It was happening. Blake wasinsidehim. Blake was taking his virginity. Blake was—

Blake was not moving. Blake was in fact holding incredibly still, looking at Cass almost fearfully.

“I’m not gonna break. You can move.” Cass wrapped his legs around Blake’s hips, pushing him deeper, and wound his arms around Blake’s neck, pulling him closer. “Fuck me like you mean it, roomie.”

He was rewarded with a desperate sound, one he’d never heard Blake make before, and then he was moving, a steady rhythm that reminded Cass of just how much more experience Blake had with this. But it was hard to be put out about it when he was using that experience to rock Cass’s world.

Especially when Blake foundthatspot again, and when Cass made an especially pathetic sound, electricity shooting up his spine, Blake mercilessly found it again and again. Cass would have been embarrassed maybe, of the noises coming out of his mouth, if Blake wasn’t also mindlessly chanting, “So good. So fucking good. Sogood.”

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