Page 41 of How to Trust a Hellhound
Eventually he gently withdrew from my mouth. I made a sound of protest, but he helped me up and kissed me passionately, his tongue licking into my mouth. He could probably taste himself, and that made me moan again.
“That was so good, Mei Ume. You made me feel so good,” he whispered as he broke the kiss. “You want to keep making me feel good, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I groaned. “Whatever you want, Wilder. Please.”
“I want to play with that pretty cock of yours. Can I do that?” he asked.
I nodded my head. Yes, he could touch me. Please.
He backed me up until I was somehow against the couch, and he gently pushed me down so I sprawled across it.
“You going to keep making those pretty sounds for me?” he asked.
I could only groan again as his hand reached down and gripped my cock. I bucked my hips up, and he squeezed tighter. There was a flash of pain that was pleasurable, and I moaned even louder.
“You like that? You like a little pain with your pleasure?” he asked.
I could only nod, and then he was stroking me, his grip so tight that the pleasure was almost painful, or maybe the pain was pleasurable. I didn’t know, but it felt amazing. He leaned down and bit my nipple, and my entire body shuddered, gasps erupting from my mouth.
“So pretty. You want me to leave a bruise on your nipple, Mei Ume?” he asked.
I jerked again, because the thought of being marked by him was hot as fuck.
He leaned down and nibbled my nipple. I mewled as he stroked me steadily and sucked at my skin. It was both too much and not enough at the same time, and I was moaning and wriggling, trying to get more somehow.
As if he could read my mind, he bit down on my nipple, the feeling of his teeth in my flesh my undoing. My body spasmed and stiffened as my orgasm crashed into me. I was yelling as he jerked me through it, not stopping or letting up, and that only made the orgasm more intense. It felt like it went on and on, and eventually the line between pleasure and pain got more distinct. As if sensing it, Wilder loosened his grip and picked his head up from my chest.
He stared into my eyes, and I watched blurrily as he lifted his hand up and licked my cum off it. My dick twitched at the sight, but it was too soon. Holy shit, was that hot, though.
“You taste so good, Mei Ume, just like I knew you would. And you were so good to give me your pleasure. So beautiful,” he murmured.
I felt boneless and exhausted, and I was unsure what to do next. Wilder stood up, gently shifted me and lifted my head, and slid onto the couch with me leaning against him. He pulled me so I was snuggled against him, and he murmured sweet things that all blended together. Words like “beautiful” and “good boy” and how good I made him feel. It made me feel soft and blurry as exhaustion pulled me under.
“Yes, Mei Ume, rest now. Close your eyes and rest. I have you,” he whispered.
So I did.
Chapter 16
Wilder
Josh was snoozing against me, and I reveled in his skin pressed against mine.
He was so beautiful.
I hadn’t meant to take things physical right away, but when I’d hugged him, I’d smelled his arousal, and I apparently didn’t have as much self-control as I’d thought. Josh clearly wanted to please me, and I couldn’t say no. I’d seen him relax and let go, and I wanted to keep him in that beautiful, carefree space he’d found.
Josh liked things a little rough, but he also adored praise—the combination had made his eyes glaze over even as his cock leaked precum. I thought he would probably be uncomfortable being the center of my attention during sex—he’d worry about what I was getting out of it—but when I was telling him how much he pleased me, he seemed to lose his inhibitions.
I could imagine sliding into his ass, telling him how good he felt, and hitting his prostate over and over until he was spasming around me. I wanted to taste him, and I wondered if he’d let me, or if he’d be too concerned with what I was getting out of it. Perhaps if he weretied down he wouldn’t worry about that. Something to talk to him about.
He stirred against me, and I brushed my hand through his hair. “You were beautiful, Mei Ume.”
“What’s it mean?” he murmured, still half asleep.
“What does what mean?” I asked, confused.
“Mei Ume,” he murmured.
