Chapter 264 - 262: Call Out My Name.

Chapter 264: Chapter 262: Call Out My Name.

Khobi doesn’t stop him, and the sound that escapes his throat as Loac takes his cock into his mouth is one he’s never heard himself make before.

He has to grab at his hair for purchase, hips helplessly canting up off the stone to sink deeper, and when Loac moans around him the wave of pleasure that hits him makes him throw back his head and keen.

Fuck .

Fuck.

Loac takes him deeper; lips stretched wide and obscene around him, and all the while his gaze never leaves his face, those blue eyes piercing and ever watchful; gauging his every reaction, and relishing it.

One of his hands slides between Khobi’s loose thighs; fingers knowing and reaching for him, hungry to touch him where he’s aching most to be touched.

And Khobi hisses as one dips inside him, hips rising to welcome him in.

It burns in the best of ways and the twisting, clenching knot that’s been so steadily tightening within him erupts into all-consuming longing to be filled with something more.

Something bigger. Thicker.

It’s been too long.

Head swimming, Loac’s name falls from his lips.

Then again, as he takes his fingers deeper. And then deeper still.

He groans, grinding up into his mouth, and then back against his hand, needing to feel him; needing him to press deeper and rougher, the way he likes it.

Loac’s throat takes him with ease, and as Khobi grinds his fingers probe and tease; fucking him as he searches, and when he finds the spot that has him arching back off the stone with white flashing behind his eyes, that’s when he pulls away from him, lips glistening as he runs his tongue across them.

He looks utterly ravenous .

Khobi’s never wanted to be fucked so bad in his life.

And like Loac knows , he drags himself of the water and up the length of Khobi’s body, teeth skimming along his skin all the way.

Khobi’s thighs fall open to greet him and his nails score lines into his skin as his weight presses down; just as hard as him and just as desperate for release.

But his hands never stop; gripping, tearing at Khobi’s sanity, and when his hips strain up into him with unbridled want, white hot desire floods through his entire body, and he’s helpless to stop the moan that comes spilling from his throat.

Loac.

...

Khobi wakes with a start, drenched in sweat.

​At first the darkness doesn’t make sense.

Nor does the cold, and for a second he just lies there in the darkness, frozen and disoriented and with an all-too familiar ache in his gut and between his legs.

Seconds tick by, one by one, and as the ceiling slowly starts to come into focus Khobi runs a clammy palm across his forehead.

​He’s shaking, and when he swallows his throat is bone dry.

​A dream , he tells himself, chest heaving just as hard and as loud as when he’s out running laps.

​It was just a dream .

​Shame immediately washes over him like ice yet it’s still not enough to quell the burgeoning lust suddenly running rampant through his body.

With a groan he guiltily spares a glance for the mound of blankets lying beyond arm’s reach on the other side of the bed, expecting to see Loac’s sleeping form, or even better, no shape at all, because it would be just the worst if he somehow found out that –

​Khobi sees blue, and his heart stops and his cock throbs as he flashes back to that moment in his mind’s eye of it bursting into that predatory, inky black.

​Then it starts back up again in a panicked frenzy.

​Why is he awake ?

​" What the fuck ," Khobi recoils, because who the fuck stares at someone while they sleep? Nonplussed, Loac just casually props himself up on one elbow, expression disconcertingly alert.

​"...Bad dream?" Loac inquires lightly, letting the blankets inch down his chest as he peers across at him through the gloom.

There’s something off about his tone. Khobi doesn’t trust it.

​"Uh, yeah, something like that," Khobi mumbles noncommittally, wiping a line of sweat off his forehead and swallowing heavily, trying to get his breathing back under control.

​His pulse is racing .

​For a long moment Loac says nothing, and for that sweet, sweet moment he lets Khobi believe that he’s accepted it and won’t press further.

​But then, with four simple words he absolutely shatters Khobi’s soul.

​"You said my name."

​Khobi’s eyes widen in horror .

​No .

Loac leans just that inch bit closer, eyes dark and probing and glimmering in the thin slivers of moonlight like some wild beast.

And all Khobi can see is those same eyes from his dream, gazing up at him.

​"...Mind telling me what that’s all about?"

​He knows .

​Khobi has never before wanted the world to end so badly.

He has no words, no defence, no lies prepared.

And while he’s currently buried in enough blankets to hide that he’s achingly hard, if he storms out –like he desperately wants to –or Loac pulls back the blankets there’ll be no hiding it.

​Predictably, Loac gives the blankets a sharp, experimental tug.

Out of some desperate sense of self preservation, Khobi’s fingers clench into the fabric and he refuses to let it budge.

​In a way, it’s just as damning.

​Loac drops back into the bed with a shit-eating grin.

Khobi wants to hit him, but he suddenly doesn’t trust his own body. Or thoughts, apparently.

​"...Was I good?" Loac inquires wickedly, smirk practically curling up to his ears. Khobi throws a pillow at him, and is grateful for the darkness because his face is burning.

As is almost every other part of him.

​" Shut up. "

​"I’ll take that as a yes."

​Khobi crams his eyes shut and tunnels deeper into the blanket, mortified and fighting to regain control over his body.

​It was just a dream.

Nothing more.

​It was just a dream .