Page 138 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth
His hands start working my muscles, finding knots of tension. They press into my chest before sliding lower, mapping the planes of my stomach. He moves to my sides next, thumbs digging into the muscles along my ribs. It feels good. I try to maintain some control, but his hands are magic. Within minutes I’m melting into the mattress despite myself.
I realize with horror that I’m hard again. My cock stands at attention, rigid and demanding.
“Look at that,” Garrett says, voice warm with amusement. “Someone’s enjoying this.”
Heat floods my face. “Shut up.”
“You’re twitching so excitedly.” His hand slides lower, fingertips grazing my thighs. “I haven’t even started yet.”
He picks up the vial again, uncorking it. I hear the pour of oil, then feel his slicked hands on my thighs.
The oil is warm. It feels good against my skin, slick and smooth as his hands work it in.
“Just breathe,” he says quietly. “Tell me if anything doesn’t feel right. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I manage to say.
“Don’t be scared.”
“Fuck you. I’m not scared.”
He’s watching my face intently for any sign of discomfort as his slicked fingers trace lower, finding places I’ve never let anyone touch before. The first touch is tentative and careful.
It’s strange. Not bad, just... different.
Intimate.
My chest feels too tight. My breathing comes faster. Garrett is seeing parts of me, touching parts of me, that no one was ever meant to see. But I don’t stop him.
As long as it’s him, it’s fine. He can take everything. My heart, my marrow, my soul. All of it. Everything I am.
“Is this all right?” he asks, pausing.
I nod, not trusting my voice to work properly.
He takes his time.
One finger. Then two. Preparing me while kissing my chest, my stomach, anywhere he can reach.
“You’re amazing, Wolf.” A kiss to my ribs. I barely hear the encouragements and praises through the haze of sensation.
The stretch is uncomfortable and foreign at first. Every instinct tells me to fight it, to pull away.
But Garrett’s other hand soothes over my hip, my thigh, keeping me grounded.
“Garrett,” I manage. “That’s enough. I’m ready—”
“Not yet.” His fingers move deeper, stretching carefully. “Let me take my time so you can take all of me later.”
I swallow hard, nervous despite myself. I’ve seen his cock. The idea of taking that inside feels impossible.
“You’re doing so well,” he whispers against my ribs. “So good for me.”
The words make something warm unfurl in my chest.
No one has ever called me good. The guild called me a failure. My targets called me a monster. The world calls me trash.
But Garrett calls me good.
