An order or a plea, Dante couldn’t tell, so he did it again, and again, and again.
Sid’s groans grew louder. His dickthrobbedin Dante’s mouth. “You’re gonna kill me. I can’t—fuck.”
Dante chuckled, letting saliva drip down and coat his finger enough to press against Sid, but not inside. Not yet. Dante wanted to, more than anything, but something he couldn’t explain stopped him. Something buried deep insidehim, not Sid.
I don’t want to hurt him.
But the thought felt out of place as every low sound Sid made screamed pleasure, not pain.
Dante moved his hands back to Sid’s hips, easing his arched spine down to the bed, vertebrae by vertebrae.
Sid moaned, stomach caving in as he fought for breath. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth...”
It was an unnecessary warning. Dantedidwant that. So much. He wanted Sid to fall apart beneath him and feel nothing but the ecstasy and joy he deserved. The happiness and acceptance he gifted Dante every damn minute they spent together.
Dante sucked him harder. Deeper. Andslow. So fucking slow. He dragged every groan from Sid. Every shudder and curse. And then Sid came, and it was an avalanche of emotion Dante wasn’t ready for.
He swallowed all Sid had to give, then released him from his mouth and pressed his face into Sid’s trembling thigh. Or maybe Dante was trembling. Scratch that, Dante was definitely shaking, but as his adrenaline faded, the shudders wracking Sid’s body got worse.
Dante sat up and gently straightened Sid’s legs.
It didn’t help.
Sid offered him a wry grin. “This is the fun part.”
“Did you get too hot?”
“Not in the bad way. Don’t worry. It’ll pass.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Dante believed him. He scooted up the bed and lay down beside Sid. He pushed his hair back from his face and kissed his cheek, ignoring the pulse of his own cock. He’d almost come when Sid had, without touching himself at all, but it didn’t seem to matter now. Nothing did, except making sure Sid was okay. “You need anything? Water? Or—”
“I want you to come.”
Dante smirked and shook his head. “Not today.”
Sid shifted onto his side. “You don’t want to?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?” The pulsating spasms in Sid’s muscles began to ease. He took a deep, healing breath and reached out to tuck a stray lock of Dante’s hair behind his ear. “I don’t understand. I can feel you. You’re as hard as I was five minutes ago.”
“So?”
“So... I want you to feel like I do—well, not exactly like I do right now, but I want to make you feel good.”
“You did. The other day. And I feel good now. I wanted that, to have you in my mouth. It was amazing.”
Sid’s grin was blinding. Then it faded as he stared Dante down, studying him, dissecting him the way only Sid could without Dante wanting to punch him in the face. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not thinking anything.”