Page 17 of Lost and Bound
“Up on your knees,” he said, an unmistakable command. He pushed me upright again, and I rose shakily, bracing my hands against the wall over his head.
He slid down a little more so that his mouth was right at a level with my cock, and tugged my pants down around my thighs.
“Take these off.”
I obediently lifted one knee and then the other, letting him work the pants off each leg and foot. The concrete of the wall felt rough against my palms, the cool air chilled my ass and legs…every little sensation pinged at me individually, more overwhelming that way, somehow. His breath heated the tip of my cock. I closed my eyes and let my head hang down, panting even though I hadn’t been moving almost at all.
He kissed and licked at my cock the way he had the rest of my body, every light touch making me quiver, sending sparks arrowing into my balls and pooling heat behind them. A long lick, from the base of my cock and up the side, with a flick of his tongue at the tip. I shook and moaned. A soft kiss to the ridge of the glans, and my fingers flexed against the wall as I tried not to thrust forward. He slid even lower down the wall and lifted my balls, kissing them one at a time.
And then he went lower still, pressing his face into the space between my thighs. Mouthing over the tender flesh at the very top of one, and then the other. When he turned his head, his hair tickled me and his stubble scraped me. My legs shook. My face felt too hot, my head too light and too heavy all at once.
He nuzzled deeper between my legs. Strong hands spread over my ass cheeks, pulling them apart, pushing me so that I angled myself toward him.
His lips brushed over my hole.
The cry that came out of me didn’t sound remotely human, raw and desperate and helpless.
I’d known he’d fuck me. Planned on it. But this…my cock and balls were external, meant to be touched and explored by a lover. This part of me was hidden, intimate, secret. No one had ever touched me there. I hadn’t wanted anyone to touch me there.
He flicked his tongue over that soft flesh, kissed me again.
Kissed my hole, oh gods, kissing me like he’d kissed my mouth. My legs trembled and burned as I bent my knees, canted my hips, tried to open myself as much as I could for that…kiss. For his kiss. For the way he opened his mouth over my hole andsucked, swirling his tongue in circles the way he’d explored my mouth a few minutes before.
This wasn’t…it wasn’t desire. It wasn’t lust. Not like I’d ever felt. My body wasn’t doing what I expected it to do, what I wanted it to do. My body liked to fuck, and this wasn’t fucking. I had no idea what it was. I’d never been harder, now that the ache of arousal had spread, moving deeper—not from inside me to my cock, like an orgasm, but the other way. Moving in, making parts of me I hadn’t known I had beg mutely for something I couldn’t define.
It went on and on, his mouth plundering my hole and his hands kneading me, until I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. I collapsed. He caught me, his fingers digging into the flesh of my ass and taking my weight completely, shoving me against him, burying his face between my legs.
I wanted to touch my cock, but my arms had dropped, my hands resting on his shoulders, and I couldn’t get them to move.
It didn’t matter; my cock didn’t need it. I felt the orgasm building, my legs splayed wide around his head as I shook and whimpered.
And then he let me down, right before I came, moving up at the same time so that I slid down and landed on his lap again. Frustration and confusion had my head spinning, and I couldn’t help rutting my cock against his body—but it wasn’t enough, not without his mouth doing things to me I’d never imagined wanting, needing. My head dropped down on his shoulder, my face pressed against his collarbone. I had his skin right next to my lips, that scent of him thick and rich. Icy and burning, metallic and spiced. I opened my mouth, letting my tongue flick out and taste him, all salt and alpha and magic.
A growl rumbled in his chest, and I froze.
He leaned over, taking me with him because I was plastered to his chest, and reached a hand out, rummaging around.
The lube. He was getting the lube from where it’d been tucked under the pallet, and that meant he was going to fuck me now. His cock pushed hard and insistent against the crease of my ass, still covered by the thin, scratchy fabric of his pants, but hot as a brand against my skin even with that barrier.
When he fucked me, he’d bite me. It’d be over. My life would almost certainly be over unless he could save me. And the logistics of that hadn’t really occurred to me until now, when it was far too late. Ripping through the collar, tearing the door off of its magic-reinforced hinges. Me in the process of dying, if not dead already. How could he keep me alive and still get out? Healing a mate through a bond took time and concentration. Effort. Sacrifice.
Even if he wanted to, he’d fail.
And my cock still throbbed against his abdomen. Maybe I wouldn’t even get off before he ripped into me. I wanted to beg him to at least jack me off, let me come before the pain and humiliation of getting fucked took away all the strange, uncomfortable need he’d stirred up in me.
I couldn’t get the words out.
I pressed my face into his chest, and my own hitched with something like a sob. I shook in his arms, and he petted me, soothed me, huge rough hands stroking over my back.
“Up,” he said softly. “For a second.”
I lifted my hips enough for him to work his own pants off, but I couldn’t make my upper body move. I clung to him, my fingers clenching against his sides, my chest and face glued to him, needing the expanse of his hot skin against mine. Feeling his heartbeat, feeling my own heartbeat thundering in tandem. How many more beats did I have left? My heart felt like it was speeding up, desperate to squeeze in as many more as it could before it stilled forever.
I might live. I might survive. I had to believe that.
A click told me he’d opened the lube. He put his other hand around my hip, guiding me back down again so that I rested on his legs. Slick fingers pushed into my crease, unerringly finding that hot, wet opening he’d already worked over so thoroughly. His fingertips rubbed over me.
And then he pressed one in. I clenched around it. Everything narrowed down to that penetration, the first time I’d ever had another man, anyone, anything, inside me. I’d never even sucked a cock. Maybe I’d nibbled on someone’s fingers, at some point. But I’d never been penetrated, at all.
