DoubleBlind
patreon
NSFW Commission: Tristan's Secret
🕑 Added 2023-05-19 20:30:31 +0000 UTCAn out-of-canon 5k EaC! commission for Pastafarian. Thanks, Pasta!
CW: Threesome (FMF), Pegging, Femdom, Humiliation/Praise, Roleplaying MMF
---
“It seems the stories of Nyarlothep were not hyperbolic in the least,” Jazz murmured, tracing the rim of her glass with one long finger. A wry smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “Though the company certainly helps.”
She sat at the round table set for three in a deep crimson gown that dipped low across her chest and slit high on her thighs. A pair of sheer pantyhose hugged her legs, and high heels with a dark net of thin straps rested at their end. Her thick red hair fell in loose waves down to her hips; the color mirrored in her lipstick.
Tristan flushed under her amber gaze, the familiar knots she so easily summoned twisting his stomach. Every word out of her mouth was like a vice around his chest, dripping with sensual promises that he knew very well she could carry out.
“Psh. Of course it seems like that. You went from a disheveled, underground cave to this.” Ravyn raised her arms and performed a sweeping gesture that encompassed the suite.
Jazz’s smile faltered. “Most of the company, anyway.”
After completing two of the mating Quests the iPaw doled out in spades, Tristan had collected plenty of money to warrant a few nights of extravagance in Nyarlothep. He’d wanted to return Jazz’s hospitality for his time in Catania and had invited her to accompany him.
Ravyn had somehow caught wind of the plan and demanded she join them.
“Ravyn, you really didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to,” Tristan noted, stealing a sip of wine. He’d managed to procure the closest thing to a formal suit he could have tailored in Nyarlea—a Victorian-style navy blue vest with black embroidery and silver buttons laid over a black, high-collared shirt. He’d rolled the shirt’s sleeves a few turns over his forearms and paired it with black slacks. It was the fanciest attire he’d ever owned in either lifetime.
“And leave you alone with this roach? I don’t think so.” Ravyn lowered her arms before crossing them over her chest. “Not in a thousand lifetimes.” She had exchanged her typical San Island style for a strapless black dress with a corseted top half and a short hem that left little to the imagination. Her scarlet tresses swayed at her waist as she paced the room in five-inch heels.
“You say that as if you care for him. And yet, you care for so little,” Jazz replied.
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Ravyn countered.
Jazz cocked one eyebrow, her intense stare piercing into her adversary. “Perhaps you will enlighten me.”
A rare shade of pink tinged Ravyn’s face, and she looked away, murmuring a string of curses.
“I’d trust you both with my life,” Tristan said evenly. “As I said the first time, you don’t have a reason to worry about Jazz.”
Jazz hummed her agreement. Ravyn continued to pace.
It was like being trapped between a rock wall and a semi-truck. Jazz’s cool disposition and vindictive nature made her back-and-forths with the fiery Ravyn a conversational nightmare. Still, they were in the same flat together, and no one had swapped to [Combat Mode], so there was some semblance of peace between them.
“You both look wonderful,” Tristan said, yearning to change the subject.
“I feel wonderful.” Jazz held one arm before her, marveling at her freshly manicured fingers. “I can’t remember the last time I felt so pampered.”
“You deserve it with all the hard work you do.” Tristan nodded at Ravyn. “You both do.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Ravyn replied, her tone short.
“Ravyn, why don’t you sit down with us?” Tristan stood and pulled the third chair away from the table. “You’ve come all this way. No reason not to enjoy it, right?”
Ravyn paused in her pacing and measured him with a long look. Tristan held her gaze with a smile, waiting patiently at the open seat.
“Mou ii. Alright. One glass won’t hurt.” She marched to the chair and positioned her legs in front of it, waiting for Tristan to slide it forward before sitting down.
Jazz poured her a glass of wine and passed it forward. Ravyn shot her an incredulous glance before taking a drink.
“So then, Tristan, how have your travels treated you?” Jazz asked.
Tristan took another drink, then leaned back into his chair. “They’ve been challenging, honestly.”
Ravyn made a noise between a laugh and a cough.
He folded his arms over his chest and stared at an invisible spot on the table. “Every time I think that I’ll be able to handle whatever situation arises, something new surprises me.”
“But I’m sure you’ve handled them well. That’s just the kind of person you are,” Jazz countered, tipping her glass toward him.
“I-I guess.” He couldn’t hide the blush on his face. Most of them, at least.
“And you planned this little getaway to step back and relax.” Jazz’s eyes slid to a scowling Ravyn. “I would love to ease your tension. If we had the privacy.”
Tristan’s blush deepened. Her words carried the memory of her skin against his. The taste of her lips and the weight of her will.
Ravyn growled.
A quiet beat passed where Tristan expected Ball’s squawking retort. But for the first time since he’d known her, she unsummoned her familiar once they’d safely arrived in Nyarlothep.
Tristan cleared his throat. “I didn’t bring you here with expectations, Jazz—”
Jazz waved a dismissive hand, and her sardonic smile returned. “Perhaps you didn’t. But I did.” Her gaze lingered on Ravyn’s chest. “While I’m not opposed to sharing, I believe Ravyn holds tightly to her corset strings.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ravyn hissed.
“Hm.” Jazz shrugged one slender shoulder. “That you have no interest in sex.”
Ravyn’s cheeks turned a furious shade of red. “That’s not true at all.” Violet eyes flickered from Jazz to Tristan.
“It’s okay if you aren’t attracted to me.” Tristan shook his head. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“You have it all wrong.” Ravyn drained her glass and stood. Her lidded gaze took his measure, and a brilliant, mischievous flame simmering inside her purple hues made Tristan’s heart skip. “Fine. Jazz wants to play? Let’s play.”
“Oh, I do like a challenge.” Jazz finished her wine and replaced the glass on the table. Moving behind Tristan, she slid one hand through his hair. “And I have so very much missed this.”
“W-wait,” Tristan stammered. Heat consumed his neck and face. The twining scents of their perfume overwhelmed his senses. “W-we can just—”
“No, we can’t.” Ravyn reached for the chair’s backing, sliding one knee beside his thigh, then the other, straddling him at the hips. Her chest was level with his eyes, and her backside rested against his knees.
Whatever he was going to say melted inside their proximity.
“Here’s the thing, Tristan.” Ravyn traced the line of his forehead with the tip of her nail, gliding along the bridge of his nose, then resting her fingertip on his lips. Her tail curled beneath her, sliding forward to caress the growing bulge in his trousers. “Girls talk. And they talk about you.” She dragged her fingernails down his vest, her tail kneading his crotch with terrifying precision. “You can’t blame me for being curious.”
Tristan shivered. She was merciless and unrelenting. This isn’t how it should go. He raised his hands to push her away, and Jazz caught his wrists.
“Jazz?” Tristan breathed.
“Control is a fickle thing, sweet Tristan.” Jazz licked her lips. “I believe it is time you relinquish yours.”
“That’s the first fucking thing you’ve said that I can agree with,” Ravyn growled. Her tongue danced across his jugular—a singing blade that threatened the very air he breathed.
Jazz’s mouth was at his ear, nibbling the curved lobe while her breath heated his skin. A sound between a whimper and a moan escaped his throat as Ravyn worked at the buttons on his vest.
“There’s the sound I want to hear,” Jazz purred. Her soft tail brushed his cheek, and her nails carved crescent moons into his wrists. “You are worth talking about, you know.”
“You—” Tristan gasped when Ravyn’s tongue slid along his collarbone. Swallowing the mounting tension in his chest, he tried again. “You two talked about me?”
“You can’t blame her for wanting to know.” Ravyn’s usually snappy tone now dripped with a sultry hue. “You’re a busy boy.”
Jazz kissed just below his ear, then his neck. “Perhaps it is better to say that we came here with expectations.”
They were putting on a show? He writhed in Jazz’s grip, hips grinding into Ravyn’s. “I-I—”
“Shh.” Ravyn parted his vest and shirt, curling her fingers around his waist and gently teasing his soft skin with her nails. She leaned forward and nibbled his lower lip, eyes piercing his.
“Do you want us to stop?” Jazz asked, nibbling his shoulder. Her lipstick left a brilliant red circle against his pale flesh. “It would surprise me.”
Ravyn released his mouth and inched backward, awaiting his response with a frown. Her tail continued to work between his legs, caressing his shaft through the fabric.
You said you trusted them. Tristan’s breathing came in quick, uneven gasps. Don’t you? “No. Don’t stop.”
A knowing smile returned to Ravyn’s face, and Jazz gave a low giggle, the sound stroking against him like velvet.
“Will you behave if I let you go?” Jazz murmured.
“Yes,” Tristan breathed.
Jazz released his wrists, reaching instead for his shirt. Ravyn took hold of his bare shoulders and pulled him forward, allowing Jazz to tug his top off of him. As soon as it hit the floor, Ravyn started to work on his belt.
“It will be easier on all of us if you move to the bed,” Jazz said, slipping the straps of her dress over her shoulders, then letting it fall to the floor. She carried herself with just as much confidence while wearing nothing but panties, strutting across the room with her chin held high and a heart-melting smile.
“Kuso. The whole world doesn’t play by your rules, you know,” Ravyn snapped. She tossed the belt to the floor and started on the button on his pants.
“I didn’t realize the whole world was in this room,” Jazz countered.
Ravyn growled, unzipping his fly.
Tristan’s mouth was parched, and his heart raced. These were two of the most intimidating people he’d ever met. Having them together in one room focused on him was daunting. The only person that could possibly unnerve him more was—
No. Don’t think about him right now.
“We can move,” Tristan murmured.
“Oh? I’m not enough to please you?” Ravyn chewed her lower lip. There was a practiced air to her demure damsel appearance, but something in her voice made Tristan’s heart skip.
She couldn’t possibly know… “I-it’s not that,” Tristan stammered. “I just don’t want anyone to feel left out.”
“Hmm.” Ravyn shifted backward, taking his pants with her. “If you say so.”
One knee slowly retreated from his side, then the next. Ravyn stood, throwing his pants to his ankles before reaching for the edge of her dress and tossing it over her head. Her chest was enormous, and a circle of goosebumps framed her dark nipples.
So much for Destiny’s bra-stuffing theory.
The strings of her lacy black thong rode high on her hip bones. Her heels stayed on as she moved toward the bed. “Don’t keep us waiting.”
Tristan jumped up from the chair and closed the distance in seven steps. Jazz’s high heels made her just slightly taller than he was, which brought on a lot of mixed feelings. Not that she gave him much of a chance to sit with any of them.
“You don’t need these.” Jazz hooked her thumbs under his boxers and knelt, dragging herself and the fabric to the floor.
“Ara ara.We have a lot to work with, hm?” Ravyn reached around his back and circled her fingers around his shaft.
A shiver rocketed down his spine, and his body trembled with it. He reached for Jazz’s chest, groping her breasts and pulling her closer so he could latch his mouth around her nipple.
Ravyn pumped with an exploratory touch, teasing at the underside of his cock with the tips of her fingers. If a particular motion drew a moan from his lips, she’d repeat it. It was delicious torture.
“My good boy is just as eager as ever,” Jazz remarked, stroking his hair. “I wonder, can you last just as long?” She gripped his forearms and held him still, giggling with his whimpered reply.
It was such a small gesture. The tiniest reminder. The pressure of Jazz’s hand against his arm was nearly identical to how Matt had grabbed him in their tryst with Svarga. Matt had held Tristan in place, bucking into Svarga with a measured determination that Tristan so badly wanted to feel—
You’re not here with him! You’re here with them!
“Come here.” Jazz guided Tristan away from Ravyn’s grasp and onto the bed. She climbed onto the blankets, and Tristan followed.
“Always the queen,” Ravyn grumbled, joining them.
Jazz smiled. “Good to hear you admit it.” She lay against the pillows and wrapped her long legs around Tristan’s thighs, curling her tail around his waist. “As such, I will go first.”
“Of course you fucking will.” Ravyn rolled her eyes, moving behind Tristan.
“You want this already?” Tristan asked, forcing himself to stay in that room.
“My sweet, I’ve wanted this again since the moment I saw you.” Jazz tensed her calves, forcing him closer. She aligned her hips to his, and a wave of goosebumps prickled along her abdomen. “Now fuck me.”
Tristan nodded, guiding his shaft inside Jazz. They gasped with his entry, and for a few blissful seconds, his thoughts were clear. He’d done this hundreds of times. This wasn’t anything new. Just try to enjoy it.
“What was that about no one feeling left out?” Ravyn clawed her nails down his back, followed closely by the tickle of her thick downy tail.
He groaned, a thin sheen of sweat broke across his forehead and chest. “R-Ravyn—”
“Mhm?” Ravyn shoved him forward, forcing him parallel to Jazz, his hands resting on either side of her head. “You heard the queen. Fuck her.”
Tristan’s breath caught as Jazz rolled her hips against him. “Must I do all of the work once again?”
“N—ngh—no!”
As he moved, Ravyn’s fingers wandered his shoulder blades, and her tongue teased his back, lapping the tiny beads of sweat that formed at his spine.
Have I ever been in the middle before?
It was too easy to picture. Himself on Jazz as he was now, Matt behind him, his mouth against Tristan’s skin. Calloused hands shaping and molding Tristan’s smooth form to their liking. Just the thought took his breath away and instilled more motivation inside his thrusts.
Jazz moved her ankles to rest on his lower back and reached for his hips. Slowing his pace, she caught his gaze, her perfect lips pursed. “Tristan, it isn’t me you’re looking at.” She brushed the long strands of blonde hair away from his face. “Where are you?”
Shit! Tristan felt his face flush.
“I know where you are.” Ravyn cupped his backside, sinking her nails into the cheeks. “You’re wishing it was Matt touching you.”
“T-that’s not—”
“Don’t lie to yourself.” Ravyn laughed, digging her fingers deeper. “I know that it’s not either of us you want. It’s Matt.”
Tristan’s hands and feet went numb. Jazz’s hand froze at his jaw. Two little words revealed the only secret he so desperately needed to keep—it’s Matt. It felt like he was choking, drowning, and burning all at once. Ravyn may as well have clamped a hand around his throat, stripped him, and put him on display.
“Truly?” Jazz asked.
“Truly.” Ravyn released him and licked another bead of sweat from his spine. “I see the way you look at him. Like you’re starving.”
No… Stop it…
“You sneak glances when you think it’s safe. Make excuses to bathe together. You hang on his every word like a kitten to milk.” Ravyn drew hearts into his shoulder.
The memory of Matt naked resurfaced. How badly Tristan wanted to touch and memorize every curve, dip, and scar. Let Matt force him into any submission he pleased. He shivered, every nerve alight with yearning.
No! Stop it!
Ravyn laughed. “Look, all I have to do is talk about him, and your body reacts.”
“Ravyn—” Tristan tried to argue.
“Doesn’t it feel good to hear it out in the open? This must be killing you,” Ravyn interrupted.
Jazz followed the line of his cheek, cupping his face in her hand. Her expression was impossible to read, and she used his name like a command. “Tristan.”
“What does it matter?” Tristan murmured, defeat and humiliation burning his face.
“Because it’s way more fun this way.” Ravyn wrapped her arms around his chest, her breasts pressing into his back. “We’re going to pretend he’s here.”
Jazz wriggled her hips against him, taking his wrists into her hands. “You can feel what you feel, my sweet. Tell us what you want.”
“I-I can’t,” Tristan whispered. The heat running through his veins wasn’t for her or Ravyn. How could he admit to something like that? This was his job. A man who ached for the alternative would surely be considered a blasphemous traitor to Nyarlea.
Ravyn slid from the bed and sauntered to the table, her tail moving with the sway of her hips. She knelt, retrieving a box she’d snuck beneath the cloth when they first arrived. You’ll see soon enough, she’d said when Tristan had asked her what was inside.
“Look at me, Tristan,” Jazz commanded.
“Jazz—”
Jazz pulled him down, claimed his lips, and plunged her tongue into his mouth. One hand snaked through his hair and grasped tightly to a snare of tendrils, holding him steady as she searched every fold and line of his tongue and throat. The other held tight to his wrist. She clenched her legs around his back and thrust around him with a newfound ferocity.
Tristan gasped inside her kiss, pinned by her hold and feeling utterly used. For the first time in his life, the tiny voice in the back of his mind that urged him to take control was silent. When Ravyn’s hands returned to his flesh, the fantasy he’d worked so hard to keep at bay returned. Someone forcing him down and bringing him to the edge—prepping him both mentally and physically for the one person he wanted to lose himself to.
“Poor little Tristan.” Ravyn’s words were soaked with ridicule as she clawed her nails down his back. “All these catgirls to fuck, and all he wants is Matt.”
Tristan shivered. His tongue was tied with Jazz’s. And even if it weren’t, what was there to argue? She was right.
“If he were here right now, I bet he’d grab you like this.” Ravyn dug her fingers into his left hip, spreading his ass wide with the other. “And then you’d feel this.”
A broad, slick pressure pressed between Tristan’s cheeks, sliding against his opening. His back arched, and he broke Jazz’s kiss. “That’s too big,” he whimpered.
“I’m sure you can take it. Just relax.” Ravyn’s timbre blurred, and for the length of a heartbeat, Tristan swore that he could hear Matt saying it.
“You really do wish he were here, don’t you?” Jazz said, searching his face.
There’s no escaping this. They see right through me. “Yes.”
A low, breathy laugh tumbled from Ravyn’s lips as she pushed the tip of her strap on inside of him.
Tristan’s whole body tensed. A noise between a gasp and a moan caught in his throat, and a shudder ran down his spine.
“You’re too tense.” Ravyn grabbed his right hip and held him still. “Don’t you want to feel me?”
More than anything. “Sorry. J-just give me a second.”
Jazz drew her hips away, taking his shaft in her hand and caressing the sensitive skin with gentle pumps. “Does this feel good?”
“Y-yes. Th—ngh!”
Ravyn had pushed in deeper without warning.
“W-wait! That’s a— a bad angle,” Tristan groaned, his toes curling.
“Bad angle?” Ravyn wrinkled her nose. “Mou ii. You all make it seem so damn easy.”
“I don’t mean to make this hard.” Tristan’s chin dropped to his chest. “I’m so sorry. All of this is a mess.”
“Nonsense. Ravyn is simply bad at ‘being Matt,’ as she so eloquently put it.” Jazz unfolded her legs from Tristan’s back, pushing against Ravyn’s chest with one heel. “Perhaps she should play a more supporting role.”
“Bitch! That hurts!” Ravyn pulled back, the dildo sliding out of Tristan’s body.
“I’m sure you’ll heal.” Jazz released Tristan’s wrists and guided him to sit up. “Give me that…device.”
With a string of murmured curses and grunts, Ravyn and Jazz hopped off the bed. Ravyn slid the strap on from her hips and handed it to Jazz. Tristan watched from his knees, steeping in a mixture of embarrassment, apprehension, and anxiety. The dildo was just as huge as it felt. How the hell would that fit?
“Can you hold him still? Or must I do that, too?” Jazz asked Ravyn, kicking her shoes off to the side.
“You must be fun at parties,” Ravyn growled, returning to the bed.
Jazz smiled. “Of course I am.”
Ignoring her reply, Ravyn positioned her back against the headboard, then grabbed Tristan’s shoulders. “Come here.”
He turned to face her, but Jazz stopped him with a touch on his hip. “Put your back to her chest.”
Tristan’s eyes widened as he looked between them.
“That wasn’t a request.” Ravyn yanked him backward with more strength and force than Tristan anticipated.
He yelped in surprise, clapping a hand over his mouth. Why do I always sound like a kid?
“Why cover your mouth, Tristan?” Jazz crawled onto the bed, the strap on erect between her voluptuous thighs. “We want to hear your noises.”
“It’s true. That’s part of the fun,” Ravyn added. “Don’t expect me to agree on anything else.” She wound her arms around his waist, reaching down for his thighs. In one swift scooping motion, his knees were in the air, thighs parted wide.
“R-Ravyn!” Tristan instinctively reached for her hands, mortified to be forced into such a vulnerable position.
But Jazz was ready, catching his wrists as he moved and pinning them against the headboard just above Ravyn’s shoulders.
“A-ah— I-I—”
“Shh.” Pinning both hands beneath one of hers, Jazz trickled her free hand down his face, resting two fingers over his eyes. “Close your eyes, Tristan.”
Adrenaline pounded in his ears. He swallowed against his impulse to fight back and closed his eyes.
“Picture Matt’s hands wandering your skin. Noting every curve,” Jazz murmured. She traced Tristan’s lips with her thumb, followed his jawline with a brush of her fingers, teased the sweep of his ear with her breath.
Matt’s hungry gaze in their time with Peony lingered at the forefront of Tristan’s memory. It had been for her, but Tristan had already begun to wish that Matt would turn it on him. Just once. Drink him in with that stare, consume him with his touch.
Tristan’s breathing sped as Jazz circled his nipples, teasing him with intermittent strokes. Heat rushed between his thighs, twisting his stomach into knots.
“What are you thinking?” Ravyn whispered into his ear, the tip of her tongue flickering inside.
“W-would he…” Tristan swallowed and licked his lips. “Would he like what he saw?”
A laugh echoed in his ear—a prideful sound that Ravyn did so well. She’d won. “He would love it.”
“What do you want, Tristan?” Jazz asked, her finger dipping into his navel, then circling his hipbone.
All I can hear is his voice. “I… I want you to take me.”
“My pleasure.”
The pressure returned, and Tristan’s fingers clenched into fists. Someone’s tail wrapped around his shaft, distracting him from the initial tension. Tristan hissed air between his teeth as the bulbous head slid inside him. But, unlike the first time, there was very little resistance. He found himself spreading his thighs wider, adjusting his hips in a position of acceptance.
“I’ll make you mine,” Matt growled.
N-no! Wait! That’s Jaz— Tristan’s thoughts were muddled with Jazz’s slow penetration. He gasped for air, his back arching away from Ravyn’s chest. His nerves were on fire, skin pulsing to the beat of his heart.
“It’s going in so easy this time,” Ravyn crooned. “What a good boy you are.”
Inch by tortuous inch, she descended. Every twitch of his body was amplified around the girth invading him.
“That’s d-deep,” Tristan breathed.
“Just wait,” Jazz muttered.
And then her hips connected with his.
A hundred tiny white explosions speckled the darkness behind his eyelids. He cried out in pleasure, his toes curling and lips numb.
Jazz withdrew her hips by inches, then thrust back inside of him. The shaft collided with his prostate a second time, and his head lulled back.
“You like it when I fuck you?” Jazz asked, her voice still disguised beneath Tristan’s fantasy.
“It’s so good,” Tristan moaned. “God, it’s so good.”
The tail vanished from his cock, and the hand dropped from his wrists. Tristan wrapped his arms around Ravyn’s neck, twining his fingers together until his knuckles turned white.
The rhythm increased. Even, tantalizing thrusts and measured withdrawals were punctuated by the carnal sounds that tore from Tristan’s throat.
“You’re so tight, Tristan,” Jazz groaned. “You’ll make me come like this.”
A slew of images turned real by the girls’ machinations assaulted his imagination. Matt’s hands holding his thighs back. The sweat gleaming on his chest with the effort. The look in his eyes when he wanted to take control.
“I want you to,” Tristan managed between gasps. “Make me yours.”
Ravyn released his thighs, allowing him to wrap his legs around Jazz’s back. One hand rested on his hip, two more toyed with his nipples.
Tristan could have opened his eyes to see whose hands were where. He could have seen the look on their faces as he submitted to his fantasy.
He could have. But he didn’t want to.
Two fingers from a fourth hand parted his lips and slid into his mouth. They massaged his tongue and tested the depths of his throat. Another long-held desire emerged with their twisting, furious movements. Tristan on his knees, hands bound behind him, using his mouth in a service he’d never done before. Not for another guy. But he would do anything, anything, that Matt asked him.
“You’re sucking so hard,” Ravyn mused. “What a practiced tongue you have.”
Tristan lapped the length of her fingers, teased at their tips. Groaned as the thrusts inside of him grew desperate and hammered against the point of his pleasure. His cries were loud and frantic. His heart felt like it was about to burst. Had he ever been so turned on in his life? He ached with the need to climax.
Not yet. Not until he does.
“On edge, are we?” Ravyn chuckled. “And no one’s touching your cock.”
The deliberate pinches and rubbing against his nipples. The fingers in his mouth. The labored breathing of the person fucking him. The combined sensations were overwhelming, and he dove into that forbidden ocean headfirst.
The next words he heard were the four words that kept him up at night touching himself. Ones he would kill to hear from Matt’s mouth.
“Come for me, Tristan.”
Tristan’s body went rigid with his orgasm, pleasure rocketing from head to toe in waves of heated chills. “Fuck me hard!” he whimpered.
Matt’s easy laugh preluded a furious slamming of body against body.
The stringent slaps of skin on skin were muffled by Tristan’s delirious cries and the ecstasy beating in his ears. Massaging his prostate seemed to drag his climax out an impossibly long time, hot seed coating his abdomen and chest until the last drops were forced from his tip.
The thrusts slowed, and the fingers vanished from his mouth and chest, but his legs stayed clenched around Jazz’s back for what felt like a lifetime. His breathing matched his pounding heart, and sweat dripped from his hairline.
I…
“I’m going to take it out, alright?” Jazz called from another planet.
I don’t want to open my eyes…
The toy slid away, and Tristan rested his feet on the bed.
Matt…
“Tristan, it’s okay,” an uncharacteristically kind Ravyn murmured, brushing the hair from his forehead. “You can open your eyes.”
Tristan counted to three, then opened his eyes.
Jazz had discarded the strap on and held a clean towel out for him. Ravyn helped him sit up straight, and they waited while he cleaned himself off. Two of the most intimidating people he’d ever met were staring at him with concern.
“Are you alright, sweet?” Jazz asked once he’d finished.
“Yeah. I think so.” Tristan nodded and tossed the towel to the side. “I, uh, didn’t mean to get so into it.”
Ravyn grinned. “For what it’s worth, I like this side of you.”
“As I said. You will feel what you feel.” Jazz reached forward and stroked his cheekbone. “You’ve nothing to hide here.”
Tristan nodded. A translucent hope of acceptance hung just within his grasp. Trusting anyone with this secret was a terrifying thought. But, as he looked between Jazz and Ravyn, the hope gained a tangible form. “Thank you both.”
“Ne ne, enough with the touchy-feely stuff.” Ravyn waved a dismissive hand. “What now?”
Tristan laughed. “Well, it’s not fair if I have all the fun, right?” He caught Ravyn’s hand in the air and kissed just behind her knuckles. “You should lie down.”
Ravyn blinked. “Nani?”
“I insist.” Jazz snatched Ravyn’s ankles and yanked them back until Ravyn’s head hit the pillows.
“H-Hey!” Ravyn snapped.
Tristan set to work with Jazz’s assistance, melting Ravyn’s retorts into moans. Matt’s gaze was never far from his mind.
For the first time since he’d realized his feelings, Tristan didn’t try to push it away.
