But his hips started to move, little circles, up and down, massaging his hole with Corin’s cockhead.
And hewasgetting wet. He stopped dead.
“Is that you or me? Corin?” His voice rose an octave, shaky and weak. His body didn’t do that, it couldn’t—
Corin’s low laugh and shake of the head were enough for him to let out a breath. “Me,” he said. “I told you, I’m more of a dragon than most. Keep going. It feels fucking incredible, Aster. You feel fucking incredible.”
Well, then. He moved again, tilting his ass up, spreading his thighs. Making more room for that thick cockhead that didn’t feel like it could ever penetrate him, letting the double ridges tease the sensitive skin of his bollocks and the inner curves of his cheeks. Keeping his eyes locked with Corin’s made everything more intense. As if the world contained only the two of them and their rough, uneven breaths.
“I told you I’d take all the time in the world to open you up,” Corin said. He pushed up, his stomach muscles contracting under Aster’s, his cock nudging Aster’s inner curves open a little and making him gasp. God, he was strong, to half-sit like this with his arms around Aster’s body. Aster had never really wanted someone stronger than he was, someone who could physically master him so easily.
Then again, he’d never been able to look away whenever Corin was in view.
Maybe he should’ve realized sooner what he really wanted.
Corin curled his body again, and this time, Aster’s body yielded. The head of his cock sank into him to the first ridge, a monstrous stretch and burn. Aster’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open as he froze, transfixed by the shock and pain. How had he thought he could do this—and then it popped out again with an obscenely wet squelching sound, another burst of pain and surprise, and Aster couldn’t do anything but collapse and rest his sweaty forehead on Corin’s collarbones, panting for breath, shaking.
“Oh, God,” he choked. “Oh, fucking God. How did that fit?”
“Magic,” Corin said, sounding nearly as wrecked as he did. “Or just your body wanting me. Sit up and take it, Aster. Now.”
He’d wanted it, he had—but now that it came down to it, fear froze his mind and slithered down his spine, tingling in his hands and feet. Shame followed. He’d put on such a show of confidence, and now he’d be disappointing Corin as well as himself.
“I don’t think I can,” he said, the words scraping his dry throat raw.
Corin’s hands wrapped around his hips. “You can.” And gently but irresistibly, he angled Aster’s lower body to aim Corin’s cock right at his hole. “Sit up.”
He might not have been able to obey on his own, but Corin took him by the shoulders and levered him up until he had to scrabble to get his knees under him before gravity impaled him on Corin’s cock.
All the way, anyway, because an inch or two had surely gone in. It felt like balancing on a fencepost. So stretched and full, his thighs aching from the angle he’d had to spread them.
Corin’s eyes were fixed intently on his face. He gazed down into them, saw the flames dance there, caught the glint of a sharp fang behind Corin’s curled lip.
And his fear bled away. Corin had him. He was the strongest being Aster had ever met, the most honorable, the most trustworthy. With him in charge, Aster could do anything.
It wasn’t necessarily comfortable, though. His hair hung around his face in a wavy mess, stuck to his temples, hanging into his eyes. He wanted to push it out of the way, but if he did that he’d lose what little leverage he had from bracing himself on Corin’s chest. His legs shook. One knee slipped a little to the side, and Aster cried out as he lost his balance and another inch, maybe, shoved inside his body.
“Corin.” His voice didn’t even sound like his own, too thin and high. “Do you really think I can take it? Take you?”
The toothy, feral grin Corin flashed at him raised the hair on the back of his neck. His cock gave an eager jerk, and God, there was something wrong with him if a predator showing his fangs made him harder.
“I promised you I’d make you, didn’t I?”
Aster could only nod.
“I keep my promises,” Corin growled, and his hands grew heavier on Aster’s shoulders, inexorably forcing him to slide down. And down, inch by inch, thicker and deeper until Aster couldn’t feel anything else but the cock filling him completely. He caught at Corin’s forearms and clung to him. “Almost there,” Corin said, tone so oddly soft and kind for someone who was ruining him forever. “A couple more inches.”
A couple more…he tucked his chin and stared down, past his own straining cock—he couldn’t even feel it through the waves of sensation below, but apparently the little bastard enjoyed this—and his bollocks, to…he saw the base of Corin’s cock between his thighs, massively thick and with a faint green shimmer of scales, and everything went all swimmy.
Oh, God. He really could do this, take Corin all the way, satisfy and please him…
With a breathy little moan, he closed his eyes, relaxed his legs, and gave in.
His ass pressed down against Corin’s body as the thickest part of his girth filled Aster up. Corin’s big hands slid down again, pausing to tweak Aster’s swollen nipples and make him jump and whimper, and then settling on his hips again and giving him a squeeze.
“There you are,” Corin said. “Hot and wet and perfect inside. You fit me like a sheath for a sword, Aster.”
If any other man had said that to him he’d have protested. He wielded his own sword, didn’t he? Literally and figuratively. He’d often been the one to do the fucking.
