Page 38

Inside my cottage, Morty pushes past us to curl up on what has become his cushion in front of our only source of light, a low-burning fireplace that’s magicked to light after sundown.

We don't even make it to the stairs.

My hands flex on Randy's waist, yanking him toward me. My lips find the side of his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin over his pulse, and my tongue flicks out to soothe the slight sting.

He tilts his head to give me more access and groans.

"Is this all right?" I ask between light nips up his jaw and back down his throat.

His fingers thread through my hair and urge my mouth closer in answer. My lips find his in a searing kiss. Heat ignites at my core, my cock swelling in my pants.

"I thought you might still be upset with me," he admits.

My nose brushes the hollow of his cheek as I nuzzle closer.

"Nobody's perfect, Randy. Changing is hard work. I'd say opening your home to someone you were afraid of is a major gesture in the right direction."

I pull him in closer, and my hard ridge presses against his ass. He pushes back into me, and I moan.

A low sound rises out of him that has me leaking into my pants. My hands slide around from his waist, one splaying over his chest while the other moves lower. My palm rubs him through his pants, and his breath escapes in a hiss.

I walk him forward until we're beside the couch in front of the low fire.

"I want to bend you over this couch."

He arches back, dragging me against his ass again.

"I want that too."

My hand leaves the hard length of him only briefly before I'm undoing the buttons of his pants in rough, short jerks and sliding my hand underneath. My palm cups the underside of his shaft before my fingers close around him. I tug once, twice, three times, making him groan and tip his head back onto my shoulder.

"Are you ready to take me tonight?"

My hot breath against his ear makes him shiver.

"Yes, please."

My teeth find his neck, biting down just enough to mark.

"Please what?" I prompt.

My thumb swirls through the precum at his tip, spreading it over the head of his cock and making him buck into me.

"Please, fuck me," he nearly whimpers, need roughening his voice.

The fingers of my other hand find his nipple, twisting as I continue to work his cock.

"I'll get the slick," I say against his skin as my hand slides free, the loss of my touch making him whimper. "When I come back, I expect these pants to be gone and you bent over, ass up. Understand?"

He swallows and nods. His cock is pulsing between his legs.

The last few weeks have revealed how much he wants this from me.

I head into the bathroom.

When I come back, I'm holding a glass bottle filled with clear gel. It's made from plants unique to the island and colloquially called slick.

"Not quite what I was picturing," I say when I find him still standing there, pants around his knees and cock jutting out.