Page 57 of A Winter Awakening
“It’s so pert and firm.” Orteo squeezed and then whacked it again. “It’s just begging to be smacked.”
Gael groaned.
“And it jiggles so magnificently when I slap it.”
Gael held his breath, anticipation singeing his nerves.
Smack! Gael gasped.
“I wish you could see how it bounces.” Another whack.
Gael bit his lip and pushed his hip back, welcoming the smacks, one after another.
“And I wish you could see your pale arse turn red from my hands,” Orteo said, voice reverent.
Gael panted, his arse burning.
He jumped when soft lips pressed against him, raining kisses over the stinging flesh. Firm wetness followed. Orteo licked up and down, soothing the hot skin with his tongue. But all the while, Orteo’s tongue crept closer and closer to Gael’s crack.
Gael tensed in anticipation. Hands gripped his arse cheeks and opened him. Gael held his breath.
A tongue probed at his entrance, wiggling against him. Dropping his mouth open, Gael cried out. The tongue pressed and thrust against the tight muscle. “Orteo!” Gael’s body trembled.
A slick, cool finger slid in beside Orteo’s tongue, working his hole. Gael opened his mouth and pressed his face against the blankets as Orteo kissed, licked, thrust, and fingered him.
Orteo made obscene slurping noises as he made love to Gael’s hole. Saliva dripped from Gael’s rim and slid down his taint.
“Orteo!” Gael cried out.
Orteo kept going, ignoring his pleas. Just kept focusing on the ring of muscle with his determined fingers and tongue, driving Gael wild until he was a boneless mess of shaking nerves.
Orteo pulled back. Gael turned his head, face pressed against the blankets, trying to see Orteo. Orteo wiped the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes fixed on Gael’s hole, which still held two fingers buried inside.
He stretched them. Rotated them. Slid them in and out. Gael squeezed the digits. Orteo’s eyes widened. He shoved his fingers deep into Gael. Gael made a choking noise.
“You have the prettiest arsehole,” he said. “A pretty arsehole, opening to me like a lovely flower, desperate for my fingers and tongue.” He shoved forward again.
Gael moaned.
“And perhaps it’s desperate for something else, hmmm?” Orteo rocked his fingers in and out. He looked to Gael. “Is this pretty arsehole desperate for something else?” Orteo asked, voice deep and husky.
Gael made a whimpering, mumbling noise.
Orteo raised a brow. His lips curled up. “What was that? You need to be clearer, my love.” He leaned forward and kissed Gael’s arse cheek. “Is this hole desperate for something else?”
“Yes,” Gael cried as Orteo slid his fingers in, nudging the bundle of nerves inside him. “Yes!”
“What?” Orteo asked.
“Your cock!”
“Is that what it needs?” Orteo said. “My cock.”
“Yes!” He whined. “I need your cock. I need it!”
“Then beg me.” He slid the fingers almost completely out and rubbed against his rim, teasing the firm muscle.
“Please. I need your cock.” Gael closed his eyes and shoved his face into the blankets. “Orteo, give it to me. I want to feel. I need to feel you,” he babbled. He felt Orteo’s fingers withdraw entirely.
