Page 30 of The Demons of Wychwood

“Fuck me, please Felix, I need it, I need you inside.” He ground the words out with such desperation I couldn’t deny him relief. I swiftly unstoppered the bottle of oil again and slicked my prick.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, yes! Do it, I beg you.”

I did as I’d seen other men do when I watched from behind the walls. I ran the head of my oiled cock up and down Kit’s slicked crack teasing him with anticipation, and then I pushed the head inside. I was stunned by the sensation, my breath stolen by the pleasure of it, how tight his silken grip was, and the pulsing heat that connected our bodies. My god! What had I been missing?

“Yes, yes, yes, more, I need more!” Kit whimpered, and again, at milord’s command, I did just that. I pushed in feeling his muscles relax around my prick, I was filling him, claiming him until my bollocks were nesting against his arse.

“Don’t stop, Jesus, fuck me, Felix, fuck me!”

“My my! It seems my Lord is a bossy little bugger!” I teased. Then I began pulling out and pushing forward, my hips pumping as if I no longer had control over my body. The passion took me over, and even though distantly I knew the bed was making an awful racket I didn’t care. I was inside the Duke of fucking Penhelligan and he loved it! After a couple of minutes of pounding I pulled out and took hold of his hips.

“Turn over,” I commanded. He did so and as soon as he was on his back I positioned his legs over my shoulders and seated myself inside him again, his velvet hot grip welcoming my cock once more. I leaned in and kissed him as I thrust, jabbing once, twice. I lifted my head to see his eyes glazed over in pure ecstasy. I’d done that, me, Felix Lazarus. Giving Kit pleasure was the loveliest thing I’d done in all my days. His face shone as if he’d fallen from the heavens. I knew then that I was taking care of a creature too beautiful and fragile for this world. I reached to grip his prick and tugged him in time with my thrusts. We raced to the edge but instead of toppling over, we flew together. My spend pulsed hotly, deep inside his arse, while Kit’s thick seed shot out coating my belly in silky white ribbons of pleasure. I collapsed on top of him, panting. When I caught my breath, I looked up and saw Kit was panting too, a hand wiping his sweat-soaked curls from his face. He smiled, and then I felt his chest shaking beneath me. I worried for a second that he was crying, but no. Kit Havelock was fucking laughing. I was a little offended. I poked him in the ribs and said,

“Oi! What’s so funny, my cock not big enough for ya?”

“Your cock is wonderful,” he said between laughter, “But my god…I think we’ve murdered your bed springs!”

Remembering my fevered thrusts and the screams of protest from the springs I began to laugh too. “You ain’t wrong, but it was a happy ending!”

Kit wrapped his arms around me and rolled us over so I was on my back. He rested his head on my chest and with such bone deep contentment, we both drifted off to sleep.

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