Page 38 of Fixing the Grumpy Pumpkin King
Locke breathed out slowly, deliberately relaxing, and Jack pressed in. Just one finger at first, watching Locke’s face for any sign of discomfort. But Locke just sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, his body opening to the touch.
“More,” he said after a moment. “I can take more.”
Jack added a second finger, scissoring gently, and Locke’s breath hitched. He was so tight, so hot, and Jack couldn’t wait to be inside him. But he forced himself to go slow, to prepare him properly, to make this good.
“You’re doing so well,” Jack murmured, adding a third finger. “Taking me so perfectly.”
“Less talking,” Locke gasped. “More doing.”
Jack crooked his fingers and found that spot inside him that made Locke cry out. He worked him open carefully, thoroughly, until Locke was writhing beneath him and gasping his name and pulling at his shoulders.
“Jack, I’m ready, please...”
Jack withdrew his fingers and sat back, undoing his own pants. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, and he watched Locke’s eyes widen.
“Oh…wow!” Locke said faintly.
Jack was well-endowed, he knew. Proportional to his height and frame, but still so freaking big it could split him in half, and so thick and veiny.
“I’ll go slow,” Jack promised, positioning himself between Locke’s legs. His cock glistened with magical slick, already prepared. “And if it’s too much, we stop. Understood?”
“Understood.” Locke reached up, pulling him down for a kiss. “I trust you.”
Those three words nearly destroyed him.
Jack lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against Locke’s entrance, and pushed in slowly. So slowly. Just the tip at first, and Locke was so tight and hot that Jack had to pause, breathing hard, fighting the urge to just thrust home.
“Okay?” he managed.
“Yeah. More. Give me more.”
Jack pushed in another inch. Another. Locke’s body opening around him, taking him in, and it was perfect. He was perfect.
“That’s it,” Jack breathed. “You’re taking me so well.”
“Gods, you’re huge,” Locke gasped. “But don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
Jack pushed in the rest of the way, slow and steady, until he was fully seated. Buried to the hilt. Locke’s body gripping him like a vice, so hot and tight and perfect he could barely think.
They both froze, breathing hard, giving Locke time to adjust.
“Okay?” Jack asked.
“I’m so much better than okay.” Locke’s voice was wrecked. “Now move before I lose my mind.”
Jack pulled out slowly, then pushed back in. Establishing a rhythm. Slow and careful at first, but Locke was writhing beneath him, gasping and pulling at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
“Harder,” Locke panted. “I can take it. Stop treating me like I’m going to break.”
So Jack did.
He pulled nearly all the way out and thrust back in hard. Locke cried out, back arching, and Jack did it again. And again. Finding that angle that made Locke see stars, that had him gasping Jack’s name like a prayer.
Jack’s magic was going wild now, responding to the intensity of his emotions. Golden light swirled around them. Leaves danced in the air, caught in impossible currents. The temperature fluctuated: warm, then cool, then warm again.Vines grew up from the ground to twine gently around Locke’s wrists, not restraining, just grounding. Flowers bloomed in a riot of color.
“Yes,” Locke gasped. “Like that. Don’t stop.”
Jack couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. Locke felt too good, sounded too perfect. Every moan, every gasp, every time he clenched around Jack’s cock drove him closer to the edge. Jack allowed only one of the vines to release Locke’s wrist.
