Page 36 of Composed at Randy's
“You don’t need to go that far, Bael. I mean, you barely even know me.” Wren’s eyes are soft and luminous, and I start to lose track of the conversation.
“I'll go anywhere you want me to go,” I say stupidly, and then Wren is kissing me again.
Chapter 11
Wren
I'm pretty sure that there are still a lot of loose ends that Bael and I haven't tied off yet, but having such a sweet, sexy man all but beg me to let him take care of me puts my brain in the back seat and my dick in the front seat. Since it's too short to see over the steering wheel, our conversational journey has come to an end.
Like our first kiss, Bael takes charge as soon as my lips touch his. He seems to really like moving me around however he wants. Just one of his hands is big enough to cradle the back of my head, and I melt into the delicious sensation of giving up control, letting him consume me.
Bael is safe, and he radiates it from every fiber of his being. I’ve never met someone who felt so right. Kai? Kai who? Why would I even consider him when I have access to all of this?
My fingers creep under Bael’s shirt, and he laughs in a growly, pleased sort of way. I pause and ask, “Am I going too fast?” I’m pretty sure he and I are both going fast enough, but I still have to check.
“Do what feels right to you. I’ll keep up.”
So yeah, Bael’s shirt fucks right off and then so does mine. Bael stops in his tracks when he sees my tattoo.
Puberty blockers helped a lot, but I still needed a little work done to get the flat chest I wanted, which meant I ended up with two tiny scars. Some people don’t mind their chest scars, some do. I’m one of the ones who do, so I created an art piece for my chest.
I wanted more than a cover-up piece, though. I wanted something that was an extension of who I was. It’s a simple but powerful asymmetrical piece of a plain little bird morphing into a phoenix taking flight. It hurt like a bitch to get and I cried the whole time, but from the look on Bael’s face, it was definitely worth it.
“Can I?” He holds a respectful hand over my chest. There’s a tension to it like he’s really holding himself back.
I give him a reward kiss before saying, “Yes, please!”
He traces the little wren with a look of wonder, but then he gets sidetracked by my nipples. Then I get sidetracked because, thank the gods, I started out with tiny ta-tas and didn’t need major nerve-killing surgery there.
Fuck, Bael knows what he’s doing with his hands.
He lovingly maps out my face with his mouth, and I’m gone. I’m just completely fucking gone on this man.
I’m wrapped around him, wallowing in the pleasure of his skin against mine, and I never want to leave.
“Where am I allowed to touch, sweetheart?” Bael kisses the words against the hollow of my throat.
“Anywhere you want,” I breathe. Taking T has made me into a horny little thing and I’m not shy or body conscious. A good upbringing will do that for a boy.
Bael’s hand drifts lower and slips inside my pants. “What do you call this?” He strokes one of my favorite sweet spots.
“Th-that’s my cocklet.” I clutch one of his massive biceps tightly and bury my face in his chest.
He explores further and discovers just how slippery he’s made me. “And this?” he asks as he slides a finger inside me. Slowly. So fucking slowly I shiver.
“My… ah… my front hole,” I gasp.
“What about here?” He strokes my asshole in tandem with my front hole and tears of pleasure threaten to spill down my cheeks. “Call it anything you want.”
“Can I fuck it?”
It takes everything in me to only nod and not tell him he can fuck any hole I have as long as he gets to it immediately. I don’t, though, because some people take that shit literally, and I have a couple of holes no one has any business being inside of. I may be kinky, but my mouth, front hole, and asshole are the only holes I allow access to.
Because I really want to get down to business, I eventually force myself to say, “Please… just fuck me. Front or back. Just fuck my holes.”
Bael groans into my neck, and it sounds a bit like he just said, “Thank you, god,” But I can’t be sure because Bael is getting first-hand knowledge of how wet my front hole has gotten.
My undies are completely soaked by the time Bael starts working them down my legs. One last kick from me and they fly off my ankle and sail across the room. Now I can get down to soaking through Bael’s pants so we can get those off him too.
