Page 22 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

Danny gives another huff of laughter and leans back down, circling my hole with his tongue teasingly. He’s got me so relaxed and helplessly pleasured that I’ve almost melted into a pile of goo. I’m giving some consideration to working up the will to turn around and push him onto his back so I can get his gorgeous cock in my mouth when I realise he’s not only stopped, but is no longer touching me at all.

I lift my head and twist to look, only to find him face down on the floor.

“Uh, didya fall over?” I slur in confusion. “You okay?” I poke him. “Danny?” It’s then I realise he’s got his arm wedged under the sofa. “What are you doing?”

“Wait… I just… almost,” he says in a strained voice. “Aha!” he exclaims in triumph as he withdraws his arm. In his hand, he clutches a bottle of lube. “I knew there was a bottle that rolled under there last time.”

“I do like a man who can think outside the box.”

“Well, problem-solver is my middle name.” He grins.

“And yet we both know it’s Lionel.”

“Are you trying to kill my erection?” He snorts and he flips the lid open to drizzle some onto his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

“Why, Inspector Hayes, I do believe you were about to ride me like the Polar Express.” I snigger, but it turns into a hiss and then a groan when he slides one long, thick finger in.

Fuck.

“So articulate,” Danny teases. He pumps his finger slowly to loosen me up before slipping further in. A long, unintelligible, garbled sound bubbles from my lips as he meticulously strokes over my prostate.

“Just there, I think,” he croons, leaning over me so the heat of his chest is pressed to my back. His breath is little puffs against my ear.

I rock back onto his hand as he thoroughly stretches me, one finger becoming two, then three. But just as I’m on the verge of breaking down and begging him to get his dick inside me, his patience snaps and I feel him shoving his sweatpants down his thighs. I twist my head to see him pour more lube into his palm and slick his cock. Then the blunt head is pushing against my opening.

Fuck.

“Maybe I should’ve got you a thesaurus for Christmas,” Danny breathes heavily, his tone laced with amusement. He slides halfway in, then pulls back and then pushes further, working his way inside me.

I don’t answer. I can’t. Any remaining coherent thought drains from my mind, to be replaced by thick, syrupy pleasure. Once seated fully inside me, he grasps my hips and begins to move. My eyes roll back in my head and I gasp, feeling his fingers digging in. Oh my god, that man’s hips should be illegal.

Although I haven’t slept with that many people in my life, more than one of them would just hump away once they got inside me. Not my Danny though. He has this way of rolling his hips so his cock drags over all my most sensitive spots. Seriously, with the way he moves, the man should come with his own Bee Gees soundtrack.

He leans over me, blanketing my body with his weight, grinding against me rather than thrusting. The thickness of his cock drags over my prostate until I’m almost wailing with how good it feels. I literally have no filter right now—the sounds coming out of my mouth are positively indecent. He slides his arms under me, wrapping one around my chest to pin me to his body while the other snakes up so he can wrap his hand around my throat. Not enough to hurt me or restrict my breathing, but because he knows I like it. I like to be held tightly, to feel him completely surrounding me. It’s so fucking sexy.

“Danny, please,” I manage to gasp out. He lifts up, pulling me with him. Holding me against his front, he speeds up and pounds into me.

The room spins and my body is on fire. My skin is prickling and my balls are tightening as my stomach clenches.

“Wait! Wait!” I cry out loudly. “Stop!”

Danny stops immediately, panting hard. “What’s wrong? Are you dizzy? Sick? Are you going to be sick?”

“What?” I frown. “No! I just don’t want to get cum on the new sofa.”

I feel his forehead press between my shoulder blades and his body shake as he silently laughs.

“What?” I reply indignantly. “We haven’t finished paying for it yet and I’m pretty sure this is not what the sofa company meant by stain-proof.”

Unable to help himself, Danny gives a helpless snort and begins to pull out of me.

“NO!” I grab his hips to keep him where he is.

“Baby, you want us to move,” he points out in amusement.

“Yes.” I nod. “But we just need to… pivot.”

He starts laughing again but does what I want. We end up with me grasping onto his hips to keep him inside me and his arms wrapped around me to hold my back against his chest as we kind of knee-shuffle ninety degrees so we’re not facing the sofa.