Page 14 of Accidentally Abducted

"Are what?"

"Perfect," Jake manages. "Hot and perfect and... oh god, right there."

I file away this information for future reference, adjusting my grip and rhythm based on both his verbal feedback and the emotional echoes I am receiving through our connection. His arousal tastes different in my mind than my own, brighter somehow, more immediate and uncomplicated.

The natural lubrication that coats my skin when I am aroused has transferred to my hands, making my strokes smooth and slick. Jake seems fascinated by this, looking down to watch the way my hands glide over him with an expression of wonder and desperate arousal.

"Is that...?" he starts to ask, then loses the words as I twist my wrist in a particular way that makes him gasp.

"From before," I explain, maintaining the rhythm that seems to drive him highest. "We produce more than enough for... extended activities."

"Extended activities," Jake repeats with a breathless laugh. "I love the way you talk about sex like it's a research project."

"Is it not a form of research?" I ask, genuinely curious, and the question makes him moan.

"God, you're going to kill me," he says, his hips bucking into my grip. "Only you could make dirty talk sound like an academic inquiry."

I lean closer, speaking directly into his ear while maintaining the steady rhythm of my hand. "Then perhaps I should conduct a more thorough investigation. Test various hypotheses about what brings you the most pleasure."

Jake shudders against me. "What kind of hypotheses?"

"For instance," I murmur, changing my grip slightly and watching his reaction, "I hypothesize that you respond particularly well to pressure here." I focus my attention on the head of his cock, using my thumb to trace patterns that make him gasp and shake.

"Fuck, yes," Jake confirms breathlessly.

"And I believe," I continue, using my other hand to trace along his hip bone, "that you enjoy multiple points of stimulation simultaneously."

"You believe correctly," Jake manages, his voice strained with pleasure.

"You are remarkably responsive," I tell him, fascinated by the way his face changes as pleasure builds. "So honest about what you want. I can feel through our connection how much you enjoy this, not just the physical sensation, but the way I am learning you."

"Keep talking," Jake gasps, his grip on my shoulders tightening. "Your voice... I love your voice."

"Do you?" I lean closer, speaking directly into his ear while my hands continue their work. "Do you like the way I sound when I tell you how beautiful you are like this? How much I enjoy watching you come apart under my hands?"

Jake makes a sound that is somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and I feel his pleasure spike higher through the connection.

"I can feel what you feel," I continue, my voice low and intimate. "The way your entire body responds to my touch. The way your mind goes quiet when I do this." I increase the pressure slightly, and his back arches.

"Yes," he breathes. "Fuck, yes."

"Such a good boy," I murmur, and his entire body shudders. "Taking everything I give you, asking for more. So eager to please."

Through the empathic connection, I can sense that he is close, his pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to overwhelm us both. I adjust my rhythm, using everything I have learned about his responses to drive him higher.

"That's it," I encourage, my own arousal building again from the feedback loop of his pleasure. "Let me feel how good this is for you."

Jake's breathing becomes ragged, his movements less coordinated as he chases his climax. "Zeph, I'm going to, I can't—"

"Then come," I tell him simply. "Come for me. Show me how good I make you feel."

And he does, with a cry that echoes off the walls, his release coating my hand and his stomach as his whole body trembles through the climax. Through the empathic connection, I experience every wave of his pleasure, and it is almost enoughto bring me to climax again just from the intensity of his response.

The aftershocks seem to go on forever, small tremors of pleasure that I feel as clearly as he does, until finally he goes limp against me, breathing hard and looking thoroughly debauched.

I look down at my hand, coated with his release, and without really thinking about it, I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean. The taste is uniquely Jake;slightly salty, but with an underlying sweetness that is quite pleasant.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Jake says, his voice strangled.

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