by Lissa Kasey
“No. I like it. I’m a bit of a texture freak if you haven’t noticed. I think that’s why fiber arts are so appealing to me.”
And I could see that. Even at the shop he had the tendency to touch things. “I guess I’m pretty good texture right now, all scaly and dried out. Well, I’m pruney now,” I said holding up a hand. And I had to admit my skin felt so much better, not as tight, and more flexible.
He gave me a small smile. “Make sure you keep drinking more water too. Our skin is our largest organ and needs lots of fluids inside and out.”
“Maybe your largest organ,” I teased.
He laughed. “You’re so weird.” Micah brought me fresh clothes. A pair of boxers he’d obviously made as they had giant fire-breathing dragons on them, shorts, and a Simply Crafty T-shirt. While I was sleepy enough to nap, Micah didn’t appear to be. So I suggested something else to keep him busy.
“Maybe you can work on those shade things and I can help? Give us both something to focus on?”
“Sure,” he agreed and led me back to the cubes and the section he had set aside of decorator fabric. “You choose the fabric.” He went to a particular section and opened it, pulling out stacks of designs, some neutral, some wild. I chose a neutral one because I didn’t think we’d be changing them all that often. Micah took the stack to the cutting table. Then dug out a measuring tape and disappeared into the loft for a minute, coming back with a piece of paper, and notes written on it. Measurements, I thought.
“Tell me what to do to help,” I said.
He glanced at the futon. “Can you hang out while I work?”
I thought about it. “Is that what you need?”
“Your presence while I sort things out in my head, yes,” he agreed.
I smiled and went up to the loft to retrieve my new quilt. That thing was going with me everywhere from now on. I brought it down to the futon, wrapped myself up in the quilt, and curled up on the futon to watch him.
“Craft away,” I said. “Let me know when you need help to hang them.”
He nodded and began to work.
I watched him for a while. After about an hour of watching him cut and sew, I got up and made us food. Throwing together some wonton chicken tacos and rice. He ate absently while he worked on some cord that wrapped the pieces for movement. Whatever this pattern was made little sense to me. But I cleaned up and he finished the batch of them, then dug through a drawer in the kitchen until he pulled out some small plant hooks.
“I’m ready to hang them if you’re still willing,” he said.
“On it,” I agreed. I took the hooks and helped him carry up the shades. Hanging them was easier than I thought. Since it wasn’t a full standing loft, reaching the top area where the hooks went was easy. Micah measured and marked a spot, I screwed in the hook. The curtains went up. He showed me how they pulled open and how each small section of cord could be tucked away to keep Jet from playing with them. The guy was brilliant.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Hmm,” he said, noncommittal. Humble and more than a little self-conscious as well, I thought.
“Do you still have those dreamcatchers I bought?” I asked him, remembering the shop I’d gotten them from and the original plan I’d had for them.
“Yes.” He headed downstairs for a moment and when he returned it was with the bag of stuff as if he’d never unpacked it. I didn’t comment on that, leaving him with whatever motive that was. The dreamcatchers went up beside the shades, centered on each, some on the inside of the loft, some on the outside. The largest one I’d bought, over two feet in diameter, I hung over the head of the bed.
“This should be some protection against bad dreams, right?” I prodded him.
He gave me a humoring smile. “Sure.”
“You’re such a skeptic for all you’ve seen,” I said.
He shrugged, then grabbed my shirt and pulled me close for a kiss. I sighed into his lips. “This okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I promised, the thought of having him wrapped around me, instantly making me hard. “Well, hey, that still works.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Good.” He tugged at my shirt. “Get naked, I wanna sex you up.”
And fuck did I need that, but now I was the one feeling a little self-conscious. “I’m pretty skinny.”
“So?”
“And I have no idea where I’ve been.”
“I have condoms. I’m on PrEP.” He reached back to one of the drawers in the cube to retrieve a pack of condoms and a bottle of lube. He dropped them on the bed beside the pillows. “The hospital ran a bunch of tests.”
Always prepared. “I doubt STDs were on the top of their list.”
He gave me a little smile. “What are you afraid of?”
“Honestly?”
He nodded.
“Hurting you. Not being enough. Waking up to find this is all a dream. I’m afraid of a lot actually.”
He yanked me down until my lips met his in a fierce kiss, and sweet baby Jesus was that amazing. The strength of his hands in my hair, his force on my lips, he left no doubt of his motives. I sank into his mouth, exploring every crevasse of it with my tongue, and teasing his in return. Fine. If he wasn’t going to chicken out, I could do this thing, right? And oh fuck did I want to. I stripped out of my shirt, kicked off my shorts, socks, and boxers while watching him strip too. He was beautiful, though I’d been wrong. He’d lost a little weight, mostly through the hips and tummy, easily hidden by his clothing. But wow.
“Wow,” I said looking at him. He was still everything that turned me on. Those amazing blue eyes, the freckles dotting his tiny nose, and the sweep of pale brown hair falling across his cheekbones. The sleek musculature of his body made me think very naughty things. Like how bendy was he? His thighs and butt were a soft flow of skin, looking almost feminine, but not quite. I longed to run my hands over that flesh, trace the curve of his ass, and kiss the base of his spine.
He gave me a sweet smile. Mask not fully gone, but little cracks in the exterior. He stepped into my personal space, grabbed me, and dragged me down onto the bed. In charge, and that was more than okay. Skin against skin, I sighed, marveling at the heat.
“Fuck me,” he said.
I put my hands on his face, kissing his lips, then the tip of his nose and examining his eyes. “You’re here with me?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “And you’re here with me.” His lips found mine, and we dueled for a while. The warmth and flavor of him alive and vaguely familiar on my tongue. That at least was the same. Dehydration or something more sinister, at least Micah was Micah in my arms.
I rocked my hips against his, pressing my cock into his. He groaned. “Fuck.”
“Yes,” I agreed. His precome leaked against my thigh, and I ran my hands over his pale chest to find his dusky nipples and play with them, still kissing him like he was the air I needed. “Can I explore? Touch you? I want to memorize every bit of your skin,” I whispered.
“Sure,” he agreed, almost seeming confused. I remembered back to the videos I’d watched of him, and how it was never foreplay for him. It was him getting fucked or sucking off someone. He’d always been silent, small noises muffled by the mask he’d worn to hide his identity. I wondered a lot about that. Did that mean he didn’t enjoy the foreplay, or was it not necessary for the camera?
“Do you not like being touched?” I had to know if it bothered him.
“I don’t need much,” he said.
“But that doesn’t mean you don’t like a little foreplay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Good. Think of me as a texture freak too. I want to memorize the texture of your skin, the lines of your muscles and the feeling of your thighs.” I kissed his lips again, dueled his tongue with my own and breathed a sigh of happiness at his body pressed against mine, but I wanted more. I rolled him beneath me and ran my hands over his chest and stomach,
studying the smoothness of his skin. Soft, with a hint of definition, his body was sleek and sexy. His nipples a duskier pale brown than pink, and when I brushed my thumbs over them, they pebbled. I bent to taste one, sucking it into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. He rewarded me with a soft sigh. That was a start at least.
“Don’t hold back your cries with me, okay?” I begged. “Be real, so I can know what I’m doing right.” I licked at the nipple again, biting it gently then blowing warm breath across his wet flesh.
He shivered. “You’re doing fine.”
“Fine…” I narrowed my eyes at him over the word and turned to the other nipple while playing with the already abused one by rolling it between my fingers. He pressed his hips into my thigh, seeking friction. The wetness of his cock sliding along my skin. But I was nowhere near done.
I found a slow dance of exploration, tasting his skin as I slid my mouth in a soft trail of kisses down his body. His belly button and hip bones were as sensitive as his nipples, making him tremble beneath me. He gave me little sighs and wrapped a hand in my hair, but didn’t try to force me in any particular direction, though his cock was hard and dripping.
While I longed to wrap my mouth around his length, there was more I needed to explore first. My own cock ached with the weight of need, begging for touch, friction, and heat. Not yet, not until I knew every inch of his skin.
There were freckles on his right hip, even a few on his pale thighs. I lifted his right leg to study those marks, adding small kisses to each and lapping at the trail from hip down over his thigh and toward his round little ass.
“Fuck,” I grumbled at him, kissing the bottom of his butt cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I wanted to taste his legs, and even trace the arches of his feet, but the view… legs open, cock hard, a hint of his hole beneath his heavy sack… it was almost too much. It was a concentrated effort to not come right then and there at the sight of him.
I kissed the bottom of each ass cheek, separating them with my hands to study the dusky clench of him. Would it be weird for him if I did what I’d longed to do every time I saw a video of his fine ass? This wasn’t porn, real life was messier, sometimes clumsy, and sometimes amazing. I didn’t mind all three. Would he?
“Can I?” I asked, not sure if I could voice the words. Instead I leaned in to taste his balls. Those weren’t as familiar. He’d often hidden them, trapped them in girly underwear to give the illusion of things that didn’t really matter to me. They were good size, the skin soft and delicate beneath my tongue as I sucked them into my mouth. This time he gave me a full moan. That… again I had to fight back coming.
His cock, in general, dissipated the illusion of femininity since he was a decent size and girth, enough to fit firmly in the palm of my hand. That part of him wasn’t slim and delicate. Sad, that he’d hidden it away, though I was more than a little pleased to be one of the few who had been given uninhibited access to it.
When I let his balls go it was to lick a trail up the underside of his cock and tease at his glans, and he writhed beneath me, hips thrusting toward my mouth. But I wasn’t ready for that yet. Instead I lapped at his precome, savoring the salty edge of sweetness on my tongue. I couldn’t remember anyone tasting this good, but most often I’d only given head on a guy wearing a condom. Even the flavored ones couldn’t really mask the underlying chemical of the sheath.
I traced the line of his cock, down around his balls, to that dark taint beneath, and the clenching hole. At first, I hesitated a little, never having tasted this end of the passion. I traced the rim of him with my fingertips, breezing over the surface, studying the crinkled edges and delicate texture of the muscle. Then I bent forward to taste it. The edge of worry in the back of my brain, but there was just his skin and soft, salty flavor beneath my tongue.
He shuddered. “Fuck!”
I lapped at the ridge, enjoying the different feel of this skin against my tongue, then licked up to the taint again and nipped at that little flesh, knowing what was beneath.
“In me,” Micah demanded. “Fuck, you are such a tease,” he complained.
“Tease?” I wanted to know. “I’m exploring…”
He reached down and gripped my hair in an almost painful handful, forcing me to look at him. “Fuck me.”
“I should stretch you.”
Micah put a firm hand in my hair and yanked me up until we were face to face, then rolled us over so he was on top. He shoved a condom and the bottle of lube my way. “I don’t need it, but I do need your cock in my ass right now.”
“Demanding much?” I teased, taking out a condom, then sliding it on. I was pretty liberal with the lube but still worried. He growled impatiently at me. “Is this what they mean when they say bossy bottoms?” I asked him.
He gave me narrowed eyes then shoved me flat onto the bed and grabbed my cock. “I’ll show you a bossy bottom.” He lined us up, using a hand to guide the head of my cock to his hole, but kneeling above me enough that I could almost see the way his dusky hole sucked me in. This was vaguely familiar, the warm heat, a tight clench of muscles around the length of me, swallowing me. I fumbled for breath, trying to hold back an orgasm to give him what he needed.
Micah seated himself fully, his ass parted and resting on my hips, with my cock nestled deep within him. He closed his eyes, wiggling his hips a little as if to find the perfect angle. His hands rested on my chest, firm, and in control. Which was actually a huge fucking turn on. Micah, small, beautiful, and a ball busting power bottom.
“Fuck,” I grumbled at him. “You’re going to make me come.”
He opened his eyes and gave me a sexy little smile. “Isn’t that the point? Pretty sure that’s the point.” He wiggled again, then moved his hips up, gliding the length of me, until he reached the tip and then sliding back down. “Hard to get the right rhythm this way,” he said.
“Yeah?” I reached out to grab his hips and hold them so I could thrust into him. His sigh was immediate, his dick leaking precome over his stomach and dripping down the length of him. He added a little twist to his hips each time I pressed into him deep, but I could tell, while it was good, it wasn’t enough. He was searching for something, an angle or a speed, I wasn’t sure, only that this position wasn’t quite doing it.
I lifted him off, and turned him, muffling his protest with a kiss, before pressing him chest down onto the bed and sliding back inside him. I lifted one of his legs, pressing the thigh upward to give me a better angle, and felt myself slide a tiny bit further into him.
His moan was deep. I tested the position, moving my hips around, pressing hard into him, drawing sexy noises from him, even as I had my arms wrapped around him like a cage, while I pulled back to thrust back in. He reached back to grip my hair, turning his head until our lips met. This. Yes, this was the perfect spot.
Micah met my thrusts, let his hips move against mine, finding a delicious rhythm of speed, force, and depth while I held him tight. Our mouths fed at each other, his hand wrapped in my hair almost hard enough to hurt, but he guided us together. Fuck, it was so good, deep inside him, swallowed by his heat, intensity, and passion.
I could hear the rising heights of his pleasure, feel his body gripping me with each shove into his warmth, until we were both dancing on the edge of pleasure. A cacophony of sounds better than any porno could ever pretend to portray. The slap of our bodies together, a slight sting of pain with the delicious rising wave of bliss. The need to fill him, coat his insides with my come, while I devoured his lips had me seeing stars.
Micah’s hand tightened in my hair, enough that I suddenly couldn’t move, and was left only with the swing of his hips and clenching body around my encased cock. That was the end of it. A fiery kiss, with his tongue jabbing into my mouth like my cock was driving into his body. The heat, friction, and need poured from me like fire down my spine. I half screamed into his lips, filling the condom but still thrusting as his body followed mine into orgasm, his body tigh
tening around me, as though milking me for every last bit of pleasure.
“Holy fuck…” I whispered into his lips as we both rode the wave slowly downward as we both trembled. His spend covered the sheet and his stomach, and I couldn’t help but wish it had branded me instead. “Next time,” I said.
“Hmm?” Micah asked.
“Thinking how I want your come all over me.”
He rewarded me with a tiny smile. “Next time,” he agreed.
“And who knew I had so many kinks,” I said. “Bossy bottoms.”
“Not many let me be in control,” he admitted.
“Well I’m all on board.” So on board my body gave another little twitch at the thought of him bossing me around again. “All in…” I promised.
Chapter 30
This time we did nap. Both of us wrapped in my new quilt, curled up into the corner. I didn’t realize it wasn’t a nap, but actual sleep until the sound of something jerked me awake. I glanced at the clock. Three a.m. It was the only light source in the loft now that we had the curtain up.
Micah appeared to still be asleep. His back to the wall, and chest to me, using me as a shield. And that was okay. Jet was curled up in his bed, seeming undisturbed by whatever had woken me.
I laid there listening. My brain immediately latching onto the time and the possibilities for what may have woken me. Micah hadn’t heard much of the thing in his garden. Was that intentional maybe?
I closed my eyes and began to doze when I heard it again. Something I couldn’t quite identify. An unnatural, animal-like sound. Not from inside. That was at least reassuring.
Carefully I reached for Micah’s phone and unlocked it to check the camera feeds. Nothing. All was still. How frustrating. I put the phone aside and curled myself protectively around Micah. It was okay if he didn’t hear it and I did. I hadn’t spent the last few years haunted by it. He could use the break. It took several minutes and lots of singing to myself about bottles of beer before I fell back to sleep.
The morning started off normal enough. We had sex, showered together, and I made breakfast. We checked in with Lukas, to make sure he and Sky were okay, and made plans to head to the store to get me a new phone before much else happened.
