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Toby breezed through his flat with the same air of casual arrogance that he did everything else. He left doors open, expecting me to follow, and like a well-trained puppy, I did. He stripped as he went, leaving a trail of clothes, I imagine like breadcrumbs, so that I can find my way back to the front door when he's through with me.
You'd think my eyes would have been glued to the swell of his backside, pert and beautiful and with a shadowed cleft that I would have happily delved my tongue into, but no. I could hardly tear my gaze away from his face, or rather, the glimpses of it as he looked over his shoulder, laughing at me.
So this was another one of Toby's games: a test or perhaps just for his amusement. I wondered when I would stop walking into his traps, but did I really want to?
Toby slid himself onto the mattress, all sinuous muscle and natural grace; it was all I could do to keep myself from leaping atop him. He smirked at me as though he could read my very thoughts. I knew he couldn't and yet I was still worried. I licked my lips. "Toby..."
"So, Dorian, do you like what you see?" His arrogance exceeded my own and it was at once exciting and infuriating. I nodded because I could not lie, not even to myself, that the porcelain-skinned man before me was perfection-in body, at least. The rest of him was at least as fucked up as I, maybe even more so and that, well, that was really something.
"I'm tired," Toby whined and I steeled myself for his dismissal. "If you want me, you do the work."
My eyes flickered over him, over his cock, which was heavy and full though not nearly straining, because I hadn't known Toby to strain himself over anything. People fell over themselves to cater to him and I was no different.
I undressed, leaving my clothes in a wrinkled heap and sat on the bed. I sucked him without pretense though not without eagerness, and when I finally drew a gasp from him, I moved away. He offered me no lubricant and I asked for none, using my own spit to work myself open. It would hurt no doubt, but the pain for me would be too soon fleeting and what did I care about a little sting? Not when my heart was a big gaping hole where Toby was concerned.
I worked myself down on top of him and began fucking. I desperately wanted him to kiss me, touch me, something other than stare up at me like I was just another God damn show. But he filled me, how he filled me, and when I closed my eyes and stroked myself, I could convince myself that I was nearly complete.
Suddenly, Toby yanked me down and before my hands could even find purchase, his fangs were in my throat. I was overcome by need and sensation and my seed spilled from me before I could contain it.
Toby laughed into my neck when he was through drinking, and fucked up into my boneless body from below until he too, reached completion. All I wanted was for him to hold me for a moment longer but he shoved me away from him. "Thank you, that will do, Dorian. You'll be on your way now, won't you?"