Limerence (Famous Young Things): Chapter 16

“

ou heard me,” I say. The look on his face is priceless. His hair is a riot of curls, his cheeks are flushed, and his body is a canvas of perfect skin and muscle. He’s spectacular. He’s in my bed.

“You do that too?” he checks. When I nod, he says, “Well, aren’t you just full of fucking surprises?”

“Turn around, princess.”

“Um, no. That’s not something you’re going to call me in bed.”

“Just in public, then?”

“Not if you’re fond of your balls.”

“Turn around,” I say, firmer.

This time, he obeys, turning over onto his front and moving up onto his hands and knees. I shift down the bed so I’m behind him, and I can take all of him in from this angle, the strong, corded muscle of his back, the arch and dip of his spine, slim waist and perfect fucking ass. Solid and smooth and—

“You have a tattoo,” I say, looking at it.

He wiggles his ass. “Surprise.”

It’s so fucking brash, so loud, so completely him that I can only chuckle. It’s a bright red lipstick kiss on his left butt cheek.

“Like it?” he asks, looking over his shoulder.

“I don’t know.”

“Bet you want to put your mouth right over it, though, don’t you?”

He’s right. I do. Leaning in, I grab hold of him by the hips and plant my mouth over the tattoo, sucking hard before biting down. He lets out a small yelp, but it’s with a gasp as I wrap a hand around his cock—well-proportioned and pretty as a picture—and kiss a path toward his hole. He’s wholly shaved here, all smooth, soft skin that smells like sex and sweat, which threatens to undo me.

Years I’d dreamt about this, about having him like this—I’d dreamt about many other things, too, which I’m sure would make him run for the hills—but this, this had taken up a lot of my time. Felix’s mouth. Felix’s cock. Felix’s ass. I plan to thoroughly enjoy all of these before letting him leave here.

The instant my mouth touches his hole, he groans shamelessly, arching his back lower and pushing backwards into my face. I kiss him here like I kissed his mouth, deeply and thoroughly, then soft and tender, sucking and licking and tasting every part of him I can reach. Alternating between the two until he’s reaching back to grab his cock. I move his hand out of the way and suck it into my mouth instead, pulling it back between his legs so that I can lick in long strokes from tip to taint to hole. He tastes sweet and salty, his skin flecked with goosebumps and perspiration. He’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Savini… are you… trying… to kill me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…” The desperation in his ruined voice is like an orchestra to my ears. “How are you so good at that?” He’s no longer holding himself up on his hands, and his head is on the pillow as his fingers fist and pull at my bedsheets.

“Good?” I ask, breathing hard as I remove my mouth.

“You fucking know it is. What… even… are you?” He lifts his head to level a suspicious look at me.

I grin and lower my head again. I’m not sure how long I eat him out for—hours, days—but he’s a wet panting mess on my bed when I come up for air.

“Please tell me you’re going to fuck me now. Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

I don’t keep lube or condoms in the bedroom, so I have to get up and go to the bathroom. When I return, he’s lying where I left him, face down and trembling on the bed. He lifts his head to look at me when I kneel behind him on the mattress.

“Are we actually going to do this?” he says. I can’t entirely figure out the tone, but his eyes are very serious despite the apparent desire in them.

“Only if you want to.”

“Only if I want to? That’s not a dynamic I’m interested in,” he says curtly.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know what you meant.”

I skim a hand up the back of his thigh. “I’d like to.”

“Yeah,” he says, “me too.”

He sounds miserable about it. Or at least, very conflicted. Which I understand. From hating my guts to wanting me inside him, it was quite the leap to make in a few short hours.

I’m afraid of what else he might say, and since kissing him earlier was as great as I imagined, and is also sure to stop him talking, I move up the bed and do it again. I press him deep into the mattress and bury my tongue in his mouth. He submits as easily as he did before, wrapping his arms around me first before opening his legs to let me between them. He likes being kissed. Felix Taylor-Brooke likes being kissed roughly and intensely, and I want to make it my mission to ensure I’m the one whose kiss he thinks of. When he’s in Charlie’s or Rufus’s or Christian’s arms, he’s thinking of me. Well, a guy can dream.

I slide my hand between our bodies to jerk him off slowly, lazily, before moving lower to circle his hole with my finger.

He groans into my mouth and spreads his legs wider, his hand joining mine at his hole. He covers my fingers with his and uses my hand to fuck himself.

“Fuck me,” he says against my lips. “Please put your dick in me before I lose my fucking mind.”

I move quickly before he starts thinking again, rolling the condom on first before squirting the lube over my hand. I rub my dick before lowering my mouth to his hole again, sloppy and brief, before sliding two wet fingers into him.

He gasps, mouth opening in surprise before he nods. “Yes, fucking hell, yes.”

I finger him as I squeeze the head of my dick, urging it to calm down. We’ve been doing this for over an hour now; I didn’t know I had this amount of restraint in me. Felix on his back, legs spread, panting as I finger him. Begging for it. For me.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. I need to be inside him.

“I can’t wait any longer,” I tell him as I position myself at his hole.

“Do it,” he says. “Fucking give it to me.”

I thrust inside, and he yelps.

“Jesus,” I groan.

“I don’t want you to call me that in bed either,” he says. When he meets my eyes, he smiles.

“No? What should I call you then?” I pull out slow and easy before sliding back in again. He groans and digs his fingers into my arms.

“Beautiful, perfect, good boy. I’ll answer to any of those.”

Smiling, I lean in to kiss him again. “You’re a fucking nightmare.”

As I begin to move, he bites my lip so hard that I feel blood leak onto my tongue.

“Best fucking nightmare you’ve ever had,” he laughs.

I groan and speed up. He’s not wrong; he is. He feels incredible. Warm and tight and perfect. I’m kissing and sucking his neck as he writhes and pants and grips at my back. It’s getting away from me, the moment, the sensation, and him. Just him. I slow and lift my head to stare down into his face. His head is thrown back, but he lifts it and opens his eyes. Some look moves into them, one I’m sure can’t be anything good, before he says, “Turn me over. I want you to fuck me from behind.”

He turns himself over, arching his back like a cat, sticking his perfect ass up in the air and spreading his knees slightly. For a moment, I can only stare at it. I’m staring so long that he reaches back and pulls one cheek to spread his ass.

“Do you like my boy pussy, Savini?”

I can only blink, stunned. He moves his hips low, angling his ass up even more. Fucking hell, I’m fucked.

I groan and dive toward his hole again, sucking and licking at it, fucking him with my tongue as I fist my dick.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs, sexily. “Now hurry up and fuck me.”

It’s all the invitation I need. I position myself behind him and slide inside the warm, wet heaven of him on a single low moan. Covering him, I hook a hand under his chin and twist his mouth towards mine, kissing him hard.

“Choke me,” he says.

“What?”

He raises a hand, places it over mine, and then positions it where he wants it. He squeezes my fingers. “Choke. Me.”

I check his eyes for any indecision. He’s serious. Green eyes shimmering with lust.

I slide out of his body slowly, grip his throat just a little beneath his jaw, and squeeze as I thrust back in. His eyes roll back and his expression dissolves into one of pure bliss. I fuck and choke and thrust and fuck, and soon, it’s all too much. He’s insanely beautiful like this. Whimpering and fucked out, loose and obliging.

“Yes,” he begs over and over. “Fuck, Nico, yes.”

There’s no warning before I come, harder and more intense than I ever have. It’s endless and loud and I feel every inch of my body sparking with pure-white pleasure. As my grip on his throat loosens, he collapses into the mattress, me on top, and we lie there panting and breathing and stuck together. I’m not all the way soft inside him, and he circles his hips even as I flatten him with my weight. Moaning gorgeously as he fucks himself on me.

“Christ, Savini.”

He’d called me Nico before. As he’d begged, he’d called me Nico. I liked it. I slide out and off him and move so that I’m lying on my back beside him. With his mouth open and eyes closed, he presses his face into the pillow. I think he’s fallen asleep, but then he blinks open his eyes and gives me a contented, sleepy look.

“You might be as good at fucking as you are at dancing.”

“You called me the best dancer in the world, so that’s quite the compliment.”

“Did I?” He thinks about this. “No, I don’t think I did.”

“Oh, you did. I’d remember something that huge.”

“You’d misremember.”

“Okay, sure. Whatever helps you get through this moment.”

He’s smiling, and it’s up there with the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. He has freckles over his nose and cheeks. Light and slightly faded. I’ve never noticed this before. But then, I’d never been this close to him; I’d never been lucky enough to be this close.

He’s studying me hard.

“You’re… surprising,” he says eventually.

“Am I?”

He draws a long, leisurely look down my body. I’d discarded the condom, but I’m still fully naked and half-hard. Not surprising since I have a fully naked, half-asleep Felix in my bed.

“Yeah. I thought, well, I thought some shit about you which was so fucking wrong. You’ve surprised me.”

“Was there an apology in there somewhere?”

“No.” His eyes are closing again. “When I wake up, we’re doing that again, by the way.”

My chest flips over. Heart racing.

“Or feel free to wake me up in a couple of hours with your cock in me,” he says.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“But that’s what I’m good at…” It’s the last thing he says before his breathing evens out and his mouth goes slack with sleep.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I know.”