Page 59 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded

“Yes, sir,” Dax said, nodding his head vigorously. I couldn’t help but grin. He was so cute when he was excited.

Reassured that Dax was a willing participant in this, I figured I may as well just ask for what I wanted. He wasn’t going to complain either way, and given that I was planning on keeping everything fairly vanilla, I didn’t expect he’d have any objections to anything I asked him to do today.

I reached for his hand and tugged it towards me, placing it firmly over my groin. “Could you massage me a bit?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes, sir.” He began a slow press-and-tug motion, and I went back to kissing him, confident that he could do both at the same time. After a few minutes, I fumbled around until I found his leg – not wanting to break the kiss to look at what I was doing – and slid my hand up until I reached his groin. He squeaked and jumped as I wrapped my firm grip around his erection. He slid his body closer, his hips lifting a little, and in response, I stroked him faster.

A few minutes later, he pulled back. “Master, I think I’m going to…”

He’d called me ‘Master’ the last time he’d climaxed, as well, and I was forming a theory that it was something he did when he was too distracted to remember my preferred form ofaddress. After twenty years of training, the term was probably a thoroughly ingrained habit.

But this time, I released my grip on him, and he gave a surprised little groan as he realised I wasn’t going to let him finish just yet. Instead, I stripped off my boxers, letting him take a good, long look at my erection. He wasn’t the slightest bit bashful about it, his eyes tracing my length as his tongue wetted his lips.

And that was fine with me. Because although I was reasonably hard, I was still a way off from being ready for the next stage of the evening. “How about you show me how talented your mouth is?” I asked him, and his eyes lit up.

“Yes, sir!” He scrambled over onto his knees, all but diving headfirst into my lap.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, as his lips closed around me, and I was reminded just how skilled he was. Within only a few minutes, I was breathing heavily, my cock feeling harder than it had been in months. “Fuck, Dax, stop. That’s enough,” I managed to say, biting my lip to avoid giving in to the temptation to just let him finish me like this. I would have been perfectly happy with that, but I was fairly sure that Dax wanted more.

“Lie down,” I said next, before he could get disappointed about being asked to stop. I reached for the lube, chuckling again as Dax threw himself over onto his back, spreading his legs without being asked. His cock was visibly throbbing, the head a deep purple colour, while his shaft was dark blue – a beautiful contrast to the lighter turquoise of the rest of his body.

The sight of his cock, arching up to rest on his belly, and his balls further down, sent a jolt of desire through my groin. Forcing myself not to rush, I squirted a dollop of lube onto my fingers and smeared it around a little. “Tell me if I hurt you,” I reminded Dax, knowing I’d given him a firm instruction to thateffect in the past, but he was so wound up at the moment, there was a good chance he’d forgotten.

He nodded, then whimpered as I reached down and circled his entrance with one slick finger. I was about to ask him if he was okay, when he spread his legs wider, and I took the sound to be eagerness, rather than apprehension.

When I slid the first finger into him, he gasped, his eyes rolling back, and his back arched. I probed him gently, adding a second finger a minute or two later. “Oh, stars,” he muttered, his fists gripping onto the sheets.

“How does that feel?” I asked him.

“So good,” he moaned, his hips lifting a little.

I added a third finger, feeling his body slowly loosen around me. “Do you think you’re ready to take me yet?” I asked eventually. I’d considered leaning down to suck him while I was doing this, but given the way he was leaking and throbbing, I’d decided that would probably be overkill. If there was one thing I could say about him, it was that he was an enthusiastic lover.

“Yes, sir,” he replied emphatically.

I wasn’t going to argue with him. My own throbbing erection was demanding some attention, and I wasn’t going to be able to draw this out any further. I slicked a bit more lube over my cock, then positioned myself between his legs, pressing them a little further apart. Dax looped his hands under his knees and pulled his legs back, allowing me easier access.

“Such a good boy,” I murmured, as I lined the head of my cock up with his entrance. He gritted his teeth and made a low, grumbling sound at that. I was sharply aware that I had not yet given him permission to come, and even in my own haze of lust, I was paying close attention to his physical reactions. I wanted to push him to the point that he really enjoyed this, that his climax was a fitting reward for a day of hard work, but at the same time, I didn’t want to push him too far, so that all he ended upfeeling was frustrated and resentful. Just let me get inside him, I decided, and then I’d tell him he could come.

I pressed forward, groaning as I felt the tightness of him, the heat of his body. God, it had been such a long time.

Hazy memories drifted through the back of my mind, as the stray thought attempted to remind me exactlywhyit had been such a long time, but I firmly dismissed the images, focusing on the muted flutterings of green and black across Dax’s scales. Black? I hadn’t seen his colours dothatbefore.

I paused as I felt his body envelop the last inch of me. Oh, fucking hell, that felt amazing. Dax’s breathing was coming fast and shallow, his eyes squeezed shut, and I fully expected his reaction to be explosive when I leaned down and whispered into his ear, “You can come now.”

As predicted, he cried out, a wordless combination of agony and relief as jets of fluid spurted immediately from his cock. His passage clamped down around me, his legs squeezing my hips, his head thrown back as his climax ripped through him.

“Oh stars,” he muttered, when he finally began to relax. “Thank you, sir. Master. Thank you. Oh, stars, that was wonderful.”

I grinned, then rocked my hips forward just a fraction – a gentle reminder to him that I hadn’t finished yet. He made a startled noise, then finally opened his eyes. “Oh. Yes, sir,” he said, as if I’d asked him a question. “Yes. Please…” He lifted his hips again, feet now planted on the bed to give him better leverage. I cupped his right buttock to hold him steady, then set up a slow but firm rhythm. I thrust in deeply, then pulled out almost all the way, relishing the way his body rocked with my movements. I wasn’t anywhere near as strong as I’d been a year ago, but feeling his small body beneath me made me feel powerful.

And from the sounds he was making, Dax had no objections to the slightly rough treatment. He wrapped his legs around my waist and clung to my shoulders, watching my face eagerly for signs that I was going to climax. The intense scrutiny made me nervous for a few moments. But unlike any human lover, who might get impatient for me to finish, or be waiting to revel in the arrogance of knowing they’d made me come, Dax was simply wanting to know that I was enjoying this. For all his own spectacular orgasm, his goal was to please me. And that took so much of the pressure off, when I was already feeling off balance and out of practice.

It took longer than I had expected – longer than I would have liked. And after a few minutes of thrusting, I felt my arousal ebb a fraction, as doubts began to swarm in my head. Was he going to get bored? Was I going to make him sore? Was he just going to think I was incompetent, or useless, or…

A wavering moan drifted out of his chest, and that was when I registered the firm lump pressing against my belly. Oh. He was hard again. And far from getting bored, he seemed to be revelling in the slow rise to what was very likely to be another climax.

That bolstered my confidence. I reached between us, gripping him firmly, and began stroking him in time with my thrusts. “Oh, stars,” he muttered, gripping my shoulders more tightly, and then his breath hitched.