Page 27 of Stealing the Merman

Finn tongue-fucked him, and Darin’s hips bucked as pleasure zinged through him. That glorious fingertip wandered up and down his length, smearing the precum oozing from his slit. All nerve endings around his opening and the underside of his cock stood to attention, honoring every movement of Finn’s tongue and finger.

Darin’s moans turned loud and wanton. He didn’t care if the other men knew how thoroughly Finn was taking him apart, how devastatingly complete Darin’s surrender to the waves of desire was. He was consumed by that tongue, that digit driving him toward completion.

Finn’s fingertip avoided Darin’s frenulum and glans, tormenting his pulsing flesh with slow strokes. Darin whined, lust and distress mixing and turning into an intoxicating concoction. His precum slicked the finger tantalizing him, and he keened at the raw urgency pooling in his loins.

It spiked to unbearable levels, and his insides tensed, pulling taut. His hole narrowed around Finn’s tongue, his inner walls hugging it with gentle force. His cock strained, balls ready to detonate with keyed-up need. Another lick, another stroke and too little became too much.

Darin cried out when his hole clamped down on the tongue fucking him. The muscles at the base of his cock broke out into impetuous contractions, pumping cum out of his untouched, twitching glans. Seed gushed out of him and splattered onto his torso as his insides rapidly clenched around Finn’s tongue. Finn ceaselessly probed his depths, pulling ever new spurts from him. The undeniable force of his orgasm shook Darin, his hole tensing and relaxing in bone-deep convulsions. He came and came until it hurt, and Finn, with a flick, teased the last of his release out of him.

Panting, hair matted to his head by sweat, he sank back, a final, deep aftershock rumpling through him. Damn, he hadn’t come this hard since Shroud Cay. His hand did nothing compared to Finn’s skilled mouth and nimble fingers. How had he lived without this for more than a day?

What would it be like if he could satisfy Finn and fulfill his needs? He’d offer himself up as often as Finn wanted to have and use him. Like he had done for Conall. The idea of being wanted and needed was alluring.

Finn tongued Darin’s stomach, pulling him back into reality. Though it struck him like thunder when he realized what Finn was doing. He was licking up his cum, the expression on his face one of pure devotion. Nobody else had done that.

“You’re too good to me,” Darin mumbled. Finn cleaned him thoroughly, ensuring he didn’t miss a single droplet. He licked his lips when he pulled away.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Finn said. “And that you’re young and have no refractory period.” His eyes, corners crinkling in happiness, dropped to Darin’s length, half-hard again. The sides of his mouth pulled up, gratified. “You’re a lot of fun.”

“I aim to please.”

“So do I.” Finn’s eyes sparked with mischief, and like a reflex, Darin’s cock stiffened. He squeezed the rope. Finn’s gaze ate up his length, and the vehemence of his regard pulled Darin’s erection into the air as if Finn was its puppet master. Well, who was he trying to fool? Finnwashis puppet master. One look had him rising to greet him. He pined for him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“I need you,” Finn said, pupils dilated with arousal. “This was just the beginning. I have more coming for you.”

Those golden waves, those aquamarine pools and that rose smile were irresistible. Finn was one of a kind, and Darin would be silly to let him go again. His fingers itched to sink into his curls, pull him close and kiss him. Finn anticipated his wish and scooted onto him, sealing their lips together.

Darin opened up, and Finn snuck inside. He tasted of merman and cum, and there was no headier mix. Darin indulged in the blend of Finn’s sweetness and the unmistakable flavor of his release. The kiss danced between them, a series of nudges and strokes. Darin hummed into it, happy to have Finn resting on him, his comfortable weight pressing him down.

By the time Finn withdrew and rolled off him, Darin was painfully hard.

“Ready for more?” Finn asked and gave Darin one long, slow stroke.

“Always,” Darin gasped as he fought the spike of lust bolting into his groin.

Finn laid his fingers to his mouth. Darin watched transfixed, speculating on his next move. And he was right. Finn sucked in two digits and hollowed his cheeks. He looked obscene. He parted his lips and moved his tongue between his fingers, slicking them up.

Something wet hit Darin’s stomach. From the tip of his curved length, a drop of precum had dripped onto him. The shiny blob connected to his glans by a long, clear thread, along which more fluid ran down. It made a mess on his stomach.

If Finn saw it, he paid it no mind. He pulled his digits from his mouth, sat between Darin’s legs and rested a lone fingertip on his opening. Darin spilled a low whine. He was loose from Finn’s earlier ministrations, and his pucker opened to the touch. Finn circled his rim, tapped it twice, causing Darin’s sphincter to wink. He pulled his legs up as far as he could, spreading wide open for Finn.

When Finn’s fingertip nudged into the feeble resistance of his little muscle, Darin let loose a filthy moan. He wanted to be penetrated, taken and owned. Finn rotated his digit, smoothing it into him. Bit by bit, he conquered Darin’s hole, his slippery finger sliding in with ease.

“Fuck, yes,” Darin panted, welcoming the invasion and eager for more. He couldn’t wait for Finn to shove both his fingers deep inside him, claiming his body with hard thrusts. He squeezed the digit gliding into him, hugging it with his willing hole. “I’m such a slut for you.”

“Iam a slut for you,” Finn said. “If I had a hole, I’d let you fuck me morning, noon and night.”

Darin keened as Finn dove in further. He loved nothing more than Finn dipping into him. “I’d do anything to make you come over and over again.”

“And then spill your hot seed deep inside my hole. That’d make me so happy.”

“I love your filthy mouth.”

Finn withdrew by an inch and swooped into him. He worked Darin until his channel loosened, then pulled out and laid two fingertips to his entrance. Darin’s pucker trembled, knowing that penetration by two digits was imminent. Finn’s fingers were long and slender, but they’d give him the stretch he craved. It’d be the most he had inside him since the Shroud Cay fiasco with Conall, and he needed it with increasing exigency.

Finn traced his rim, then probed it, testing the resistance. Darin’s anal muscles had slackened, but two digits, after all this time, were a challenge for his small opening. Finn massaged into the ring with gentle pressure, coaxing it into relaxation. Darin bore down, and Finn’s slick fingertips breached his tight hole.

Tremors raced through Darin as, finally, after many months, something of girth entered him. His body unclenched with relief and simultaneously compressed around the fingers gliding into him. He clutched Finn like he wanted him to never leave. He wanted him to stay forever. Finn responded, feeding him more and more of his digits, widening him as he went in.

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